Jameson sits still and stares at me. Our eyes are locked, and the air swirls between us.
“You wanted to see me?” I ask. I really don’t know what kind of meeting has scotch involved. Maybe I should have had a glass. God, no. Remember what you did last time you got drunk with this man. You tried to suck all the blood out of him.
“As we just discussed, we have a special project we would like you to work on,” Jameson says.
I nod as I look between them.
“Yes. In light of what you told me this morning, we want you to write a story for us to publish.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Okay.” I look between them. “What’s the story on?”
“Name a subject.” His tongue slips out and runs across his bottom lip, and I feel it all the way to my toes. “We have a secret project coming up, and I wanted
