I shake my head. “I’d rather not.”

She presses her palms together in a plea. “He’s pretty insistent, and he does have a great reach. Will you reconsider?”

Sighing heavily, I lean back in my leather chair, thinking. I need to make sure my focus remains on Haven—always on Haven. These people depend on me. As much as the guy irked me with his offhand comment, if I have to sweep it under the rug, I will, and keep my emotions out of the equation. “Will it help the marketing? Is it important to the company?”

“I think it’ll help our rollout. The more publicity we get, the better. His network is expanding. His work is getting great pickup—not just the shows he hosts, but all his shows. His podcasts and reports are carried everywhere.”

When I started the interview with Sabrina, I promised myself I wouldn’t let my feelings for her get in the way of that piece. While she has more on the line than I do when it comes to this story, I can’t afford any missteps either. Not with her, and not with anyone. It would definitely be a misstep to piss off Kermit.

I look at my watch. “I’m pretty focused on this piece with Sabrina right now. It takes up a lot of time. Could we set something for when it’s done?”

She bounces on her tiptoes. “I can do that.”

“Glad I could make you happy.”

She smiles. “I know he’s a pain in the butt, but he’s also a rising star, and he’s somebody we can’t overlook.”

That’s what irks me. I feel like he has something to lord over me. Something he’ll whip out at any moment. That’s another reason why I personally can’t afford to ignore him.

18

Sabrina

This is cruel and unusual punishment.

The icing calls to me. It speaks to me in sweet, sugary tones. Lick me, take me, touch me.

“This isn’t fair. This is like going to a shelter full of big-eyed pups needing homes. I want to give them all a home,” I say to Courtney as I gawk at the polished glass case in the Sunshine Bakery on the Upper West Side.

Marble cakes and slices of tropical coconut pies whisper sweet nothings to me. Pink strawberry-shortcake cupcakes wink in my direction. A mouth-watering seven-layer bar talks dirty to me—eat me.

Oh yes, I believe I will.

Courtney taps her finger against her chin. “We’re having a celebration today since one of our start-ups hit a big milestone, and I need to bring cake to the office.”

“Cake is the universal currency.”

“It’s also the universal motivator. People will do anything for cake.”

“You’re going to use cake to tell your team you need them to work sixty-hour weeks? You’re a cruel mistress.”

“Ha. Not quite. But you know what else cake does?”

“Tell me.”

“It weeds out the animals in your office. I brought a sheet cake in once, left it in the break room, and when I went to get it ten minutes later, it looked like a family of bear cubs had come through.”