Page 72

Layla stops in front of my desk and pulls a folder from her bag.

“Here.”

She drops it in front of me. I look down. It’s the contract. And it’s signed.

Something inside my chest shifts.

Satisfaction. And a hint of something else so small I almost miss.

Disappointment.

Because maybe she’s the reporter I’ve been searching for. The one trying to smear my grandfather’s name.

I shake off the thought, pick up the signed document, and flip to the signature page.

Layla Hawthorne.

There it is.

She’s mine now.

Well, more or less, for thirty days she is. I almost can’t believe she actually agreed.

“You look surprised, Mr. Knight.”

“Not at all, Miss Hawthorne. Besides, I don't get surprised often.”

“There's a first time for everything.”

I don’t allow myself to ponder that. Instead, I refocus on the agreement.

“Did your attorney review it?”

“Mine and the network's.”

“And?”

“You already know. Your attorneys spent half the morning arguing with mine.”

“Negotiating.”

“Threatening each other with billable hours.”

“That's how attorneys flirt.”

She snorts. The sound catches me off guard. So does the smile that follows. It’s not the polite one from last night. This is different. A genuine Layla Hawthorne smile. And it changes something about her.

Makes her look…

Radiant.

Fuck.

I like it way too much.

I close the folder before I can stare at her like an idiot.

“So we're agreed.”