Daisy cleared her throat and threw her head back. “The public has a very personal interest in you. You sell a lot of papers. You get a lot of hits online. She is now a part of you, so yes, they might not have a right to know those things, but they want to know them.”

I snapped my mouth shut and breathed in and out through my nose. I wanted to threaten her, to tell her not to ever write about Sutton again or she wouldn’t like the outcome of her actions. But I knew that I couldn’t do that. Anything I said in here could be used against me. She’d write about it the second I left this office.

“Why did you come here today?” she asked, breaking me from my thoughts.

“I don’t want you to write about her scars again. It’s rude. It’s mean. It’s a shitty thing to do. She doesn’t deserve the public knowing that kind of stuff about her.”

I watched as the sly grin faded and her expression turned.

“I have pictures,” she said. “After the article came out, I got an anonymous email that had pictures attached.”

“How do you know it’s Sutton?”

“Her face is in them.”

“What do you want?” I asked, and she looked confused for only a second. “To not print them. Ever. What do you want?”

Daisy sat silent for a moment, measuring me with her eyes that had on way too much makeup. She looked like she was ready for a night out, not a workday.

“Exclusives,” she said simply, and I nodded.

“I’ll give you pictures of us before we even arrive at any of the Social Month events. I’ll get you behind-the-scenes photos. Us getting ready. In our homes. Things like that,” I offered as I pulled out my phone and started typing up a quick email to Kayla. I needed her to get something ready for me and send it over as soon as possible.

“Yeah”—she nodded, her face lighting up—“I like that. I also want one other thing.”

“What?” I finished typing, pressed Send, and waited.

“An exclusive joint interview with you both as a couple. Your first before anyone else.”

“Done.”

“How do you know I won’t print the pictures anyway?”

“Because before I leave this office, you’re going to sign a document that says you won’t. And if you do, I’ll sue you personally. Not the Post. You. And I’ll make sure you never work in journalism again. Not even if you try to start a blog.”

I planned on delivering the same exact message to the “anonymous” emailer of the photos as well. There was only one person who could have done it; Sutton’s ex. He wouldn’t even think about breathing her name after I finished with him.

Refreshing the email app on my phone, I watched as Kayla’s response came up with a document attached. “I need a printer.”