On the bright side, he didn’t mention the three different times she’d butchered names she’d gotten right several times before.

She strode down the hallway toward her desk in the newsroom, the sharp raps of her heels with each step showing about as much mercy for the stained concrete floor as she showed her performance.

God, the newsroom was hot today. If she’d known it was going to be this stuffy, she’d have forgone the ice-blue suit for something a little more lightweight. And what was that smell? She’d swear someone left a tuna salad sandwich lying out overnight again.

An overly cheerful voice shot down the hallway. “Hey, Cassie! Wait up.”

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Tempting as it was to ignore Lizbet and her fake let’s be besties routine, Cassie slowed her steps, pasted on a professional smile and turned. “Hey, girl. What’s up?”

“Well, I was going to ask the same thing of you.” Lizbet’s smile was perfect—an ideal blend of concern and kindness—but there was definitely calculation behind her brown eyes. She slowed as she got closer. “You seemed a little angry on set tonight. Everything okay?”

Ding. Dig number one.

Cassie waved her hand and snickered. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Just got a little distracted. There’s a new story I’ve been noodling and a few angles popped in my head. Bad timing, but you never know when you’re going to get good ideas.”

“True.” Lizbet cocked her head just enough the tips of her dark bob played around the edges of her perfectly painted red lips. Cassie couldn’t pull off a harsh red like that if her life depended on it, but Lizbet could and did frequently. She’d swear half the men on staff fantasized about what it would take to get her lipstick stains on some very tactical body parts. “If there’s anything you want to bounce off me, I’d be happy to brainstorm with you. I think it’d be great if we teamed up.”

Right. Because that wouldn’t be an idea that would come back to bite me at all.

Cassie at least tried for a decent smile to go with her playful response. “Wow. Could you imagine? The two of us working together? That’d be a dangerous combination, for sure!” Dangerous as in a cat fight, or an all-out bloodbath, but at least she hadn’t lied or blindly agreed to something she’d never actually do. She checked her watch, knowing perfectly well it was only ten minutes past six. “Oh, shoot. I’ve got to run and get something to eat across the street before my seven o’clock. You staying for a bit, or are you done for the day?”

“Oh, no. I’m done. Running down that last story wore me out. I’m headed home for Netflix and ice cream, but I’ll be sure and watch you at ten.”

Watching and jabbing her Cassie McClintock voodoo doll was probably more like it. Cassie hustled to her desk midway into the newsroom for her purse, but kept talking. “Well, have some extra for me. Especially if there’s chocolate involved.”