Tully opened the door. “Sure. Later. That’s Mutt, by the way.” She pointed to a huge, long-haired, hunched-over guy standing by the open window, who was blowing his cigarette smoke outside.

“Hey,” he said, barely lifting a single finger in greeting.

“Carol Mansour—she’s the reporter—is at a city council meeting,” Tully said, leading Kate toward a closed door.

As if Kate hadn’t been hearing Carol Mansour stories forever.

Tully stopped at the door and knocked. When a male voice answered, Tully opened the door and pulled Kate inside. “Johnny? This is my friend Katie.”

A man looked up from behind his desk. “You’re Kate Mularkey, huh?”

He was, hands down, the best-looking man Kate had ever seen. He was older than they were, but not by much; maybe five or six years. His long black hair was thick and feathered back, with the barest hint of curl at the ends. Prominent cheekbones and a smallish chin could have made him look pretty, but there was nothing feminine about him. When he smiled at her, she drew in a sharp breath, feeling a jolt of pure physical attraction that was unlike anything she’d ever experience before.

And here she stood, dressed for work in her preppy Gloria Vanderbilt jeans, penny loafers, and red V-neck sweater. All of last night’s curl had fallen out of her hair and she hadn’t redone it this morning. She hadn’t bothered with makeup, either.

She was going to kill Tully.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Tully said, skipping out of the office, closing the door behind her.

“Please. Have a seat,” he said indicating the empty chair across from his desk.

She sat down, perching nervously on the edge of the chair.

“Tully tells me you’re a genius.”

“Well, she is my best friend.”

“You’re lucky. She’s a special girl.”

“Yes, sir, she is.”

He laughed at that; it was a rich, contagious sound that made her smile, too. “Please, don’t call me sir. It makes me think some old guy is behind me.” He leaned forward. “So, Kate, what do you think?”

“About what?”

“The job.”

“What job?”

He glanced at the door, said, “Hmmm, that’s interesting,” then looked at her again. “We have an opening for an office person. Carol used to do all of the phones and filing, but she’s going to have a baby, so the cheap-ass station manager has finally kicked in for a little help.”

“But Tully—”

“She wants to stay an intern. Says that thanks to her grandmother she doesn’t need the money. Between you and me, she’s not great at answering the phones anyway.”

This was all coming at Kate too fast. Only an hour ago, she’d finally admitted that she didn’t want to go into broadcasting, and now here she was being offered a job every kid in her department at UW would kill for.