Scandal Sheet aka Hollywood Scandals

chest, his muscles flexing. I had to admit, they were impressive muscles.

I tried not to look as unnerved as I felt.

Finally he nodded.

“Okay, yes. I think you are being childish.”

“I knew it.”

“I know this arrangement wasn’t your idea, but I think you should take this threat seriously.”

“You’re right. People get killed through the telephone all the time.”

“You have a real sarcastic streak to you, you know it?”

“It’s one of my better traits.”

“I’m serious, Tina. This isn’t the kind of thing you should take lightly.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a hand to stop me.

“Look, I know you think you can take care of yourself, that you don’t need anyone’s help, you’re a strong, independent woman, yada, yada, yada. I’ve heard it a million times.”

My turn to cross my arms over my chest. “Gee, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize we were back in the nineteenth century.”

“I’d be giving the same lecture if you were a man.”

“Yeah, I see guys getting dissed for being ‘strong independent men’ all the time.”

“You know what I mean.”

I opened my Strawberry Shortcake purse and pulled out a five.

“Actually, Cal,” I said, spitting out his name like it was dirtying my mouth, “I don’t need your help. Because I’m not in any danger. In case you haven’t noticed, we are not in a Schwarzenegger movie, there are no bad guys gunning for me, and I write about celebrity hookups, not political scandals and government corruption.” I shoved the five at him. “And I can buy my own lunch.”

He took the five, turning it over in his hands.

Finally he tucked it into his pocket and silently moved back to his desk, unwrapping his own sandwich.

I sat back down and took another bite of salami. But some of the heaven had been argued out of it.

“What’s Audio Cloak?”

I swiveled in my seat to find Allie reading over my shoulder.

Instinctively, I closed the window on my screen.

“Nothing.”

“You think that’s what he used to disguise his voice?” Cam asked, coming up behind her.

“You mean the caller?” Allie asked, her blue eyes wide.

Reluctantly, I nodded.

“How does it work?” she asked.

Man, she was a pushy little thing.

“It’s…complicated.” Which wasn’t entirely true, but considering it was Barbie I was talking to, reciting her ABC’s was probably complicated.

“Do you think that guy from PW used it?” Cam asked.

Allie turned to her. “What’s PW?”

I vaguely felt Cal perking up in the corner, but I ignored it, instead shooting Cam a silent “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” look. While I might have to share an office with Neanderthal Man, he didn’t need to know every detail of my personal business.

But Cam was either playing blonde or not receiving vibes today. “It’s the name of the company she traced the call to. PW Enterprises.”

“How did you find that out?” Allie asked.

“I’m a reporter, remember?” I answered. I think I showed great restraint for not adding, “One hired for more than her great rack.”

“So, you know who did it then?”

“Well…almost. I know where the call was made from, but not who made it. Yet,” I added, trying to save face.

“Hmm.” She pursed her lips together, a furrow forming between her perfectly plucked brows.

I knew I was going to regret asking, but…“What?”

“Well, the caller did say to stop printing stories about him.”

“So?”

“So, I’d think the easiest way to generate a list of suspects would be to make a list of people you’ve written about.”

I snorted. “Look, I know you’re new here, but some of us have published quite a few articles. I write a daily column. The list would be a mile long.”

Allie blinked at me, and I wasn’t sure just how many of my subtle insults had made it through her thick blonde skull.

“He said stories. Plural,” she pointed out. “You could narrow it down to the people you’ve written multiple columns about lately.”

I hated to admit, the Barbie had a point. While plenty of celebs had mentions in my column, there were only a handful I’d given more than one mention to in the last few weeks. Hollywood’s attention span was about as long as an ADD-affected two-year-old’s.

“Right,” I said. “I was going to do that next.” I cleared my throat. “So, did you actually want something, or were you just coming over to chat?”

Barbie blinked at me. “Oh. Yeah. Um, Felix said we should go to the courthouse together. Pines’s evidence trial is starting in half an hour.”

I looked down at my watch. “I’m on it.” I grabbed my purse, notebook, and a ballpoint.

I felt rather than saw Cal rise from his desk, following a pace behind as I made for the elevator.

“Who’s he?” Cam whispered as I hit the “down” button.

“No one.”

Cam gave him a slow appraisal, her eyes resting on the fit of his T-shirt across his broad chest. “He doesn’t look like no one.”

“He’s my insurance.”

She gave me a look but, thankfully, didn’t push it.

Once we hit the parking lot, we all dispersed to our respective vehicles. Cam’s a Jeep Wrangler with mud caked into the tires. Allie skipped to one of those new little VW bugs. Powder blue. Figures. Even her car was adorable.

I unlocked my helmet and threw a leg over my bike.

“No.”

I turned to find Cal at my side, shaking his head.

“Excuse me?”

“I can’t let you ride that.”

“Hold up-you can’t let me?”

“You’re completely exposed. Not to mention how easily someone could stage an accident on something that flimsy.”

“My bike is not flimsy.”

“It’s the smallest bike I’ve ever seen. What’s it made of, plastic?”

I clenched my teeth. “I’m petite. I need a petite bike.”

“Not today you don’t.”

“Look, you-”

“No, look you,” he countered, taking a step forward. Suddenly his jaw clenched, his eyes going intent. His entire demeanor shifted into something hard and dangerous. I felt my breath back up in my throat, realizing just how good at his job he must be. “I was hired to keep you safe. Which I intend to do, whether you cooperate or not. You want to go to the courthouse? Fine. We do it my way.”

He gestured to his left, where a huge black Hummer sat at the curb. And not one of those new SUV-sized ones. This was an original tank.