Chapter One
Yvette
There were few things Yvette disliked. Getting an email from head office? That was at the top of her list. Having to go all the way downtown and meet with Fred Cavalier was enough to make her stomach churn. If he spent as much time managing his clients as he did staring at her, they wouldn’t have to worry about getting a headlining story ever again.
There it was typed out in black font against a white screen, staring right back at her. She was the third person they were trying out for their exclusive story. What happened to the other journalists? Yvette took another bite of her granola bar and stared at the screen. She couldn’t help but be a little disappointed that she was their third choice.
Realistically, she’d only been with the magazine for three months. It didn’t come as a surprise that she’d be lower on their list for exclusive stories. She was glad to just be considered at all. This being her first exclusive, there was the thought at the back of her mind questioning whether she had the ability to write a story worthy of a front cover feature.
Then, there was the idea of having to track down her subject. There was something dirty about working for a tabloid magazine that dealt in the hot gossip about high society’s elite and celebrities - from the catchy titles to the shallow content - that she was forced to write. The stories always included sources that didn't really exist. Most of the time, the “information” was made up and copied from some other magazine, then spun in a way that made it seem as though it was their breaking story.
She leaned back in her desk chair and brought her pen to her lips and began biting down on the cap stuck to the end. Jace Johnson. Of course, she’d heard his name before. Who hadn’t? The three brothers were infamous in the tabloids and on social media. The only one that had avoided the world like a ghost was Jace Johnson. He had no socials and preferred to stay out of the public eye. That was also how he’d captured the attention of women all over the country. Everyone was looking for a story on him, especially since he’d just returned from his deployment overseas.
Yvette ran her hand through her long dark hair, trying to push it out of her eyes. The email was sent earlier in the day and she hadn’t decided whether she’d take the job yet. She knew she needed this kind of breakthrough in order to advance her career but at what cost? From the looks of the company’s terms, she’d be essentially stalking him. She could barely figure out how to navigate New York City, which she’d lived in for nearly three years. Now, they expected her to track down someone she barely knew? It’s not like she was a full-time private investigator.
She preferred hiding out in her studio apartment and typing away. That was where she excelled. She brought her hands to the keyboard and began typing her reply. She wondered if the magazine was aiming for a three strike rule. If she was going to be the third person they’d send after this guy, she might just be the last. Even if she wanted to turn this assignment down, the opportunity to have a headline in her name was too irresistible.
~
The rain pattered against her leather jacket as she walked with a quickness in her step. She should have Ubered to the building. Luckily, she didn’t have much further to go. Yvette kept her head down as she walked the busy streets, passing by pizza places and smelling the thick scent of cheese and oil.
The scents of New York City blended together, bringing with it the smell of gas, the perfumes of passerby, fast food vendors and the freshness of the drizzling rain. Mist enveloped the skyscrapers, creating a desolate and grey day in the city.
Yvette was shivering by the time she reached the massive building with reflective windows all along its sides. This was where she’d find the online magazine, The Personage, which was essentially a high-end celebutante magazine - a rich people’s tabloid. She’d written for them for three months so far, ranging from Who Wore It Best to Dating A Celebrity: Who’s Who. Now, it was time to move up to the front page. That was if they assigned her.
The lobby was bare, except for a giant white pillar in the middle that had a large square directory on its front, which held the floor number of all the businesses in the building. There was a security officer whose desk filled up the rest of the area.
Usually, the security guard was an older man who spent the majority of his time trying to finish a daily crossword. She assumed his job was dull most days, as she only ever saw him look up from the page to give people directions. Not like they could just look up at the pillar and figure out where they were and where they needed to go.
The thought made Yvette smile - she’d been one of those lazy people.
She brought her phone from the back pocket of her light wash jeans and tapped the screen. It wasn’t even one yet. She was making decent time. Unfortunately, she knew that Fred Cavalier would be late, even if she showed up early. He was just that type of person. She could imagine him making excuses of how he was fashionably late. Just knowing she’d have to face him again caused her stomach to twist in knots. She was hoping it would be at least another month until she had to show up at his office again.
She reached the elevator and tapped the old button until she heard a ding. She could see herself in the reflective metal of the elevator doors as she waited. There were two of her, right next to each other. The building was large and the elevator old, so it took longer than it should to for it to climb down to the lobby floor where she waited. She adjusted her hair, which was held up in a loose bun at the top of her head. She could see a few strands out of place and rectified them, making sure to tuck them into the rest of the hair.
The elevator smelt too strongly of perfume the moment she stepped in. The building held a number of ad agencies, publications and start-ups, as did most skyscrapers in New York City. This one, however, had a number of elite companies that rested on the shoulders of men and women that always wore too much fragrance. Fred Cavalier was one of those people.
Yvette drew a deep breath and tapped her hand against her thigh. There was no sense in worrying too much. She just had to go in for a little bit. There was just something so threatening about his presence, and the fact that he looked at her as though she was the next thing on the menu. She wanted to believe she was more than just her looks, but men like Fred Cavalier made her rethink everything. He always reduced her to an object, and it took her awhile to shake off that feeling that she was less than a person.
The door dinged as she reached the twenty-second floor. The office itself had a quality of being so new that touching anything felt like breaking the law. It was as though the whole place had been imported out of an Ikea advertisement. She stepped out of the elevator and immediately heard her black heels clacking along the white tiled floor. She walked up to the front desk and waited, as she always did, for the young secretary to notice her. Being at The Personage always made her feel as though she was invisible.
The girl behind the desk stopped typing and lifted her eyes from the IMac screen with an expressionless face. She was dressed with the same monotone colors as the office, with a plunging white dress shirt, black cat-eye glasses, and an a-line black skirt. She always reminded Yvette as being so perfectly coordinated with the furniture that it was as though she was ordered along with most of everything else.
“Hi there. May I get your name?”
Yvette wanted to roll her eyes. How many people did this girl see in a day that Yvette wasn’t even recognizable? “My name’s Yvette Charbonneau. I’m here for a one o’clock meeting with Fred Cavalier.”