“It’s a fluff piece. On a Wednesday night! There’s no news there. Everyone knows that stuff goes on. Maybe...maybe... I’d buy it on a ten o’clock newscast, but the five o’clock spot?”

“Yes, but it’s interesting. And, as she said, it’s much more mainstream these days.”

“It’s sensationalism, not news. And whose side are you on anyway?”

“Yours. That’s why I brought alcohol.” Frieda stood, grabbed Cassie’s now empty margarita glass and marched to the kitchen. “And apparently, we’re gonna need a refill, STAT.”

“What I need is a story. And for Lizbet to get a job offer outside of New Orleans.”

“Well, we both know the latter is a long shot. It took you a year to land the job here. I’d imagine it’s even harder finding something in a bigger city.”

“It is.”

“Okay, so how do you find a story?”

“I’ve never had to find one before. They always find me. Usually when I’m goofing off, or working on something else.”

With Cassie’s glass refilled clear to the top, Frieda rounded the dinette. “Then start goofing off. Spend some time on your photography. Sleep late. Do something to your apartment.”

“I went on a shoot yesterday.” Cassie took the glass from Frieda and took a long drink. “Not going to be doing that for a while. Too hard without a car.”

“Did you print your stuff from yesterday yet?”

Nodding, Cassie shifted, grabbed the stack off her makeshift end table made from an empty cardboard box then handed them over. “Not a bad collection this time around, but no story ideas.”

She sipped her drink and halfheartedly watched her aunt move from one picture to the next. Rather than take the time to really appreciate her work, she rushed through the stack. “What are you looking for?”

“More pics of the hot guy.”

Cassie grunted and sipped another gulp through her straw. “I didn’t get any of him.”

“Well, that’s too damned bad. He’s a looker.”

Boy, that was the truth. She’d caught herself losing the thread of her conversation with Kir way too many times Sunday night simply from absorbing how good he looked. And when he’d touched her? Yeah, thinking wasn’t an easy task anytime he got close enough for contact.

For a second, Cassie considered keeping her mouth shut and shifting topics. But this was Aunt Frieda. The one person in the world who’d never once judged or tried to control her. “I did see him, though. He wants me to help him research something. I’m hoping I might get a lead there.”

“A lead from what he’s researching?”

Oh, she was 150% certain the cause for his research would be a zinger of a lead.

That said, it might also mean her ending up being the focus of a missing person story if she ran with it. Assuming she ever found out what was driving Kir. “Not exactly. More likely from someone he knows, or something he hears. He’s got a lot of connections and plays things pretty close to the vest.”