Hot Spot. Debbi Rawlins

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СКАЧАТЬ will share this with a man.”

      “Ah.”

      The psychic briefly closed her eyes. The effect was lost on Madison. “He is someone who works with you.”

      Madison sighed. She freelanced, for heaven’s sake. Why had she bothered wasting her time? Even if she didn’t have anything better to do.

      “But you don’t know him.” Madam Z. frowned. “Yet.”

      “Right.”

      One of the woman’s brows went up. “It’s up to you whether you believe or not.”

      “That’s right.”

      “So choose to believe this.” Madam Zora leaned slightly forward. “There are things you hold dear that you must let go. Nothing will bring you the satisfaction you seek until you open your mind. A broken heart need not be.”

      Madison sighed. “Thank you,” she said, rising from her seat, ready to get back to her martini. She knew now that the so-called psychic was just blowing smoke. She’d known about Madison’s profession because she’d done her homework, not because she had supernatural gifts. “You’re good,” she said, meaning it. It must have taken her quite some time to research all the guests.

      Madam Zora laughed. “Yes, and so are you,” she said. “But that skill won’t be enough to get you what you want.” She paused until Madison got to the door. “There’s more.”

      Madison smiled, then got the hell out of the room.

      Karrie waited impatiently outside. “Hey, hey. What was that about ‘I’ll be right behind you’?”

      “Okay, I was an idiot. I stayed an extra minute. It was garbage, Karrie.”

      “Garbage? Did you hear what she said about my brother?”

      “She did her homework, I’ll give you that, but as for the rest? She got one thing right about me. That’s it.”

      “That you’re a photographer?”

      Madison shook her head. “Nope. That I got a new job.”

      “A job? Like going in from nine-to-five?”

      She shook her head. “Okay, it’s an assignment, so she didn’t get that right, either.”

      Karrie squinted. “Not for—”

      Madison nodded. “For Today’s Man.”

      “No way. Which issue?”

      She grinned at her best bud.

      Karrie stepped back. “The sexiest-man layout?”

      “Yep.”

      “Oh, my God. That’s terrific! When were you going to tell me?”

      “I got the call this afternoon. I still can’t believe it myself.”

      Karrie raised her glass. “Congratulations. Damn.”

      “Save the kudos until I get the man-of-the-year cover.”

      Karrie sighed. “Would you chill out long enough to enjoy the moment? This is major. World class. How many photographers vie for that shoot each month? And you got it.”

      “Yeah, but—”

      “Nope.” She held up a hand. “I’m not listening to any ‘yeah buts.’ You’re too hard on yourself. You’re a damn good photographer, and you deserve the assignment. Period. Which state are you covering?”

      “New York. I’m shooting right here in Manhattan.”

      “Cool. Who’s the guy?”

      “That’s up to me.”

      “I know you have someone in mind.”

      “A couple of guys, actually, but I have over a month before I have to submit a name.”

      “Are you going to give me a hint?” Karrie waited during the span of a leisurely sip. “I’ll give you one. The question was rhetorical.”

      Madison laughed. Yeah, she had one guy in particular in mind. But he wasn’t going to be easy. Others had tried to snag him to no avail. “I’m superstitious. I don’t want to jinx it.”

      “Oh, brother.” Karrie sighed. “Okay, I’m sure you’ll find someone positively delicious.”

      “Delicious?” Madison sipped her drink again, wishing it was later so they could head home. “I just pray that he’s photogenic, and not an insufferable prick.”

      “Who knows,” Kerrie said, her brows arching. “Maybe you won’t find his prick insufferable at all.”

      1

      Three Months Later…

      “EXCUSE ME, JACK, but there’s a Madison Tate on line two for you.” Lana stood expectantly at his office door, pushing the mass of shiny black hair away from her face. “She says you’re expecting her call.”

      Jack Logan hesitated. He should talk to her and get it over with. The sooner he got the eager Ms. Tate off his back the better. “Take a message, will you, Lana?”

      “Sure.” She smiled, first at him and then at Larry before turning to leave, her short skirt showing off a pair of dynamite legs.

      Shaking his graying head, Larry exhaled sharply as he tapped the edge of Jack’s desk. “I don’t think my heart could take having a secretary who looked like that.”

      Jack smiled at his longtime agent. “She has a husband and twin toddlers she adores.”

      “With those eyes and that smile she should be working in front of the camera. Maybe I ought to try and sign her up—”

      “She’s not interested. She’s just a nice kid from Nebraska who can’t wait to get home to her kids every day.” Jack loosened his tie and motioned with his chin to the briefcase on Larry’s lap. “You have papers for me to review?”

      Larry stared back, his weathered face creasing into a frown. Years of golf without sun protection had added ten years to him. He suddenly looked grim. “You’re not going to like the new contract.”

      “That’s a given. Let me see it.”

      “Not to say it’s not a good deal. It’s entirely favorable to you. Any other morning-show host would give his right arm for the concessions they’re willing to make. I heard that Matt Lauer couldn’t even—”

      “Larry, just give me the contract.”

      The older man sighed and took the leather folder out of his briefcase. “Don’t be rash. Think about how much you have to lose.”

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