Chapter 35

"Elena."

Sally's firm voice made me look up from my computer. She was standing at the entrance to my cubicle, frowning down at me. I hadn't seen her since she ran out of the conference room the night before, and seeing her again made me nervous.

"Hi, Sally."

She looked at me with a frown, and my stomach dropped to my toes. I was sure she was going to fire me.

"How much of that article do you and Matilda have ready?"

It took me a second to comprehend her words.

"I'm done. I just need an editor to look it over and Matilda will attach the photos for final approval."

Sally nodded. "Okay. Please send the draft to me as soon as you can."

"Thank you," I start, but she is already walking away.

As soon as she is out of earshot I do a silent scream of happiness, pumping my fists in the sky and kicking my feet. Then I stop, take a breath, and stand as calmly as I can.

Glancing around, I saw that no one had seen me. I went toward Matilda's cubicle and tried but couldn't help the wide smile that broke out on my face.

She wasn't there, so I stopped by the darkroom, pushing the intercom button so not to disturb the occupants inside. A long time ago there were actual laboratories inside with chemicals that would explode and film that would be destroyed by light.

Now they were just expensive computers, but the photographers still maintained their private, separate space.

"Yes?"

"Is Matilda in there?"

The door buzzed open and I stepped in, going quickly over to where she was looking up at me from her workspace. Her eyes light up at the sight of my smile.

"No way. She said yes?"

"She said yes!"

Matilda pumped a fist into the air. "I knew you'd turn her around, Elena. Shall I send you my file?"

"Please."

"On it right now."

"Thanks, Matilda," I said.

It was out the next morning.

I felt like I was walking on air when I opened up the paper and there was my piece, the headline staring at me in the face.

I snapped a photo of it and sent it to Cathy who responded with a dozen celebrating emojis.

Sure, it wasn't the top article, but it was still on the front page, and Matilda's photos helped divert the eye away from the celebrity who got the top billing down to the cute but dirty child next to the crumbling paint of the front door.

By the time I was seated with coffee, Sheila was already stopping by to say congratulations, and say that the online edition had more views on my story than any yet that day.

"I knew you had something," she said, winking at me before heading back to work.

The rest of the day went by in a daze, with Charles congratulating me on my first article with champagne, though somewhat grudgingly, because it went against his tally for winning the bet.

"You must have said something right," he said, pouring me a fizzy glass. "And I've got to admit, it works with the rest of the spread."

"I'm glad you approve," I said sarcastically. "I know I sound silly, but I'm actually pretty excited about this. I've been working so long to see something I've done out there in the world and making a difference. If even two people read it and do something than I'll be happy."

Charles paused.

"Have you seen any of the comments coming into the chat rooms?" he asked, trying to look casual over our spaghetti.

"No!"

He nodded his head. "I'm pretty sure you'll have more than two people responding." He twirled his pasta, seeming not to be aware I was staring at him.

When he looked up, there was a twinkle in his eye.

"Really?" I said. "People are responding?"

"The life-span of these stories are small, so if I were you I'd hop online the moment you get home and see what people are saying. Minus the crazy comments, of course. There are a few of those, too."

I laughed. Tears were threatening. My dream was coming true, I'd done it.

"Thank you."

"For what?" he looked surprised.

"For giving me a chance."

He frowned. "And now, if you'll please fail so that I can get what I need?"

Charles was wrong about the life-span of the story. Instead of disappearing and the public's eye going elsewhere, both the comments section and Sally's editorial inbox was being bombarded by people wanting more information.

Mrs. Addison and Ms. Beale called, overjoyed to tell me they were having donations dropped off by the carload and people volunteering to help. Both sounded choked up with gratitude.

In the midst of it all, I opened my email and found a strange address with the subject line, "Keep Your Nose Out!"

I opened it and read the email.

Ms. Laurentia, If you keep looking into the orphanages I will make sure you regret it. I will hurt you. I promise. A Friend

Despite it being a little scary, I was honestly elated. It proved that I was doing my job, that I had found something wrong and someone was feeling guilty about it.

I asked Sally to look at it, and she forwarded it to IT who tried to track it, but it only went to a burner address.

"I'm not going to let anyone intimidate my reporters," Sally told me in front of everyone at another pitch meeting. "Are you okay to continue, Elena?"

I nodded. "Of course."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Stan scowl.

"Then I'd like to double down on this while there's public interest. Elena, I'm assigning you and Matilda to continue covering this. See what the impact has been on the orphanages. And please attend the city hall meeting where the orphanages will be asking for funds."

I couldn't believe it! A few days ago she had shut me down completely, and now she was doubling down.

"Thank you," I said. Matilda caught my eye and we smiled at each other.

"An actual dinner with people around?" I said, surprised as Charles held open a restaurant door for me. A maitre d' hurried up to us, and I noticed people turn to look as we walked in.

So this was what it was like to be out with a famous Alpha.

He shrugged. "I need to celebrate my company's new ace reporter."

He spoke with the waiter and soon we were at a table with a view overlooking the lake.

"This is beautiful," I said. "Thank you."

We studied the menu while I prattled on happily. I was brimming with enthusiasm and I could tell Charles was getting a kick out of my enthusiasm.

"You're like a kid on too much sugar," he said after listening to me go on non-stop. "So what made Sally double down? All the comments?"

I thought for a moment. "Honestly, I think it was that she doesn't like being threatened."

"What?" Charles' face went serious. "What do you mean?"

"Someone sent me a threat and she didn't appreciate the intimidation tactic. I totally agree with her. It had the opposite effect on me that it intended because now I am sure there's even more out there that someone doesn't want me to see."

Charles' eyes narrowed. The table vibrated slightly and I realized it was because he was leaning into it, growling deep in his chest.

My throat tensed, but I tried to play it off.

"My goodness, you can look fierce when you want," I said with a laugh.

He didn't smile. "I don't like this."

I had no response, and I quailed under his gaze.

"I will have a word with Sally."

"No, please." I looked up, pleading. "She's right. No one should think they can send a threat and stop us."

"I don't like that she's playing with your safety."

"I asked for this assignment knowing there was something going on. Plus, I have great self-defense skills."

He began to smile, the fire beginning to leave his eyes. "Despite me having a crappy teacher," I added.

He laughed. He stretched his neck and shoulders, shaking off his aggression.

"You won't quit this?" he said, looking at me.

"Not even if I had a hundred threats."

"I could have you fired."

"You wouldn't. Besides, then I'd write a blog or something about how you fired me, and all those people in the comments section would be upset at Rafe Media."

He signed and picked up a steak knife studying the tip and balancing it on his hand.

The waiter was coming toward our table, but when he saw Charles and the knife he turned and went back into the kitchen.

"Then I insist on taking you home personally after this. And tonight I'm coming inside. Got it?"