I poke my head in. “You wanted to see me?”

“Ah, Blair, yes.” Richard beckons me, and I sit in the chair opposite to his desk.

Today he’s wearing a deep blue shirt that’s begging to be ripped off him. I swallow.

“This is a bit last minute, but are you free this weekend?” Richard asks.

My heart skips a beat.

Is he asking me on a date? What do I say?

“This weekend?” I repeat trying to buy time to think.

“Yep. How would you feel about flying with me to LA?”

A weekend in California? That sounds so romantic. Is this really happening?

“We would have to fly economy as the company budget is low…”

Company budget? Oh. My heart plummets. So it’s a work thing. Stupid me for thinking otherwise.

“Sorry, I’m not following,” I say. “Why LA?”

“A good friend of mine is hosting a charity ball in Los Angeles… You know Christian Slade?”

“Christian Slade?” My eyes bulge out. “As in the mega Hollywood star?”

“Yes, him.”

“He’s your friend?”

“Yes, we go way back. We met at boarding school in England.”

“Wow!” Richard really is connected, Indira was right. “Why do you want me to come?”

“The event will be A-list celebrities only, with a red carpet and everything. I thought as Fashion Editor you could piece together a few nice articles…”

“Something like best and worst dressed…”

“To be honest, I’d like to give Christian’s charity better exposure through a more commercial approach.”

“Make the ladies lust over the Hollywood glam to spread the word about the cause?”

“Exactly.”

I lean forward in my chair and switch from deluded-employee-helplessly-in-love-with-her-too-handsome-boss to professional magazine editor. “What’s the name of the charity?”

“Teachers without Postcodes.”

Opening my notepad, I scribble the name down to research later. “Interesting name. What’s the cause?”

“A program to bring better school systems to kids in neighborhoods with underfunded education. The charity supports a network of charter schools.”

“That’s a great mission. Do you have a list of the attendees?”

“Yeah, I’ll email it to you.”

“What about interviews? Am I allowed to ask the guests questions, like when they reach the end of the red carpet, or something?”

“Let me double check with Chris, but I’m sure it won’t be an issue.”

I put a checkmark next to interviews. “And for photos?”

“How good is your phone’s camera?”

I stare up from the pad. “Seriously?”

“You can buy freelance shots with the budget you have, no extras. The plane ticket and hotel will already be expensive enough.”

“I can’t do a spread without professional photos.”

“Isn’t Saskia’s page still bringing in loads of ad revenue?”

“Yeah, but I’ve allocated the profits to other projects. What am I supposed to do?”

“Be creative. I don’t like to micromanage my staff.”

I suppress a scream of frustration.