Page 5 of Easy Come

"Hey, Diane, this is a reporter fromContemporary Lifemagazine. Georgie Dempsey this is Diane Connor, our marketing guru." She dropped her pen as Diane stepped into view.

Georgie stuck out her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Di, do I require you to wear a corset and mini skirt around the office?"

She laughed. "Funny man. By the way, I think it'll be a thumbs down on this thing. It keeps pinching my sides."

Georgie crossed something else off her notepad.

"You know what, Georgie, I'm going to make this easier on you so you don't have to keep crossing stuff off your list." I looked up at Diane, who seemed a little confused about her office invite and rightfully so. "Di, Georgie is writing an article about Plaything, and I think if you could answer some quick questions, it might give her a better insight into how we run things."

Diane adjusted the corset. "I'll try. Fire away."

"Do you like working here?"

"Like winning the job lotto." Diane looked down at Georgie as she quickly wrote on the notepad. "I work twenty-five hour weeks, which allow me time to do homework for my master's degree. Plaything pays college tuition and I earn six figures. I've got great benefits and I own a percentage of the company. Respect and trust are two core values at Plaything. And about the only rule that is strictly enforced is never heat up fish in the lunch room microwave."

Georgie grinned as she wrote down Diane's response. "Good rule. Well, thank you, Diane. I don't want to take up any more of your time. I'm sure you're busy."

"Nice meeting you." Diane walked out.

As she left, Olivia, my assistant walked in. "Hey, Di. So how is that thing? Torture?"

"Not torture but not exactly pleasure," Diane commented as she walked out.

Olivia was wearing gray sweatpants and a football jersey. She insisted she was more productive if she was dressed for a day on the couch binge watching a Walking Dead marathon, so this was her usual attire.

"Liv, this is Georgie, the reporter."

"Hello." Olivia smiled. "Just came in to let you know your lunch meeting was cancelled."

"Great, thanks for letting me know."

Olivia headed out.

"Oh, Liv, could you get me a cup of coffee, black, please."

Olivia burst out laughing, the reaction I'd expected but not the one Georgie had. Again, her blue eyes blinked with surprise.

"You should see her on casual Friday," I said. "So, Ms. Dempsey, now that I've shown you how we run this place, let's go to lunch and discuss an angle on your story that I think will satisfy your craven boss, help you sell millions of magazines and give Plaything some great publicity."

Chapter Five

Georgie

I'd been invitedto lunch, and before I had time to breathe my response, I was being swept to a local restaurant in a navy blue Tesla. Trey wasn't your typical high power executive. He was charming, direct and, oddly enough, seemed pretty down to earth.

Trey walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for me. "Hope you like comfort food."

I climbed out. "Well, I like comfort and I like food, so it works for me." He was much taller than I realized, and now that I was walking next to him, I noticed that he smelled nice too. Guess that wasn't a surprise. What was a surprise was finding out just how nicely the company was run. Something told me I could bug the place or hide in corners for a week and never find fodder for a damaging article. Meredith was going to be pissed, but I wasn't going to make something up and risk my credentials as a journalist just to feed her carnivorous appetite. Trey had mentioned that he had an idea for a story, but I just couldn't figure out how that was possible.

We walked inside and attracted more than just a little bit of attention from the other diners, most of whom looked retired or on their way through town on a road trip. There was no ritzy, white linen and crystal water glasses at the end of our quick drive through the city, but rather, a mom and pop style restaurant, complete with corny decor and laminate tables.

The hostess, a stout woman with red apple cheeks and a mop of bleached blond hair waved from behind the register. "Hello, Trey, honey, just take any seat."

Trey placed his hand behind my elbow. It was a light touch, but I could feel the heat of his fingers through my blouse. We walked to a booth at the back and a young man, not more than twenty, dropped menus in front of us.

"I'm Kyle, and I'll be your server. Can I get you started with something to drink?"

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