"He's been photographed thousands of times, but he hasn't done any in-depth interviews outside the celebrity magazine circuit. All we know about him is that he was born in Los Angeles. His parents died in an automobile accident when he was twelve. He went to live with his aunt. She died when he was seventeen. After that he made it on his own, no other relatives, not too many close friends. He made his first million before he was twenty-five years old, without the benefit of a college degree, and he hasn't looked back since. That was seven years ago. At thirty-two he is ranked among the top thirty wealthiest men in the country."
"That's amazing," she admitted.
"He's a success story, and people like to read about success stories, especially rags to riches. Our readership is primarily male, but Alexander Donovan will bring in the women. He's young, attractive and a billionaire."
"What more could a woman want?" she asked dryly.
"Exactly. But I want more from you than a fluff piece. I may have been pushed to put this man on the cover, but you're going to find me some reasons why he belongs there."
"All right. I'll do Alex Donovan." She stopped abruptly, realizing what she'd just said. "I mean, I'll interview him," she added hastily, ignoring Roger's grin.
"He's expecting you at his office in one hour."
"What if I have other plans? It's Friday night. I could have a date."
He raised an eyebrow. "You haven't had a date in months."
"Well, it's not because I haven't been asked," she grumbled.
"Oh, I know that, Andrea. You're a beautiful woman, but you're a workaholic, and while I appreciate your dedication, I know from firsthand experience that all work and no play equals burnout."
"Then why did you schedule a job for me on a Friday night?" she challenged.
"That was at Donovan's request. He's going to let you shadow him this weekend. I want to put this story to bed by the first of October. That gives you ten days. And one last thing—Donovan is not a stupid man. He also has a great deal of money and power. You're going to triple check every fact in your article. The last thing I need is a lawsuit."
The last thing she needed as well. "Got it."
She walked out of Roger's office and down the hall to her cubicle. It was in the far end of the newsroom and boasted one small window that overlooked downtown San Francisco. If she stood on her tiptoes at a certain angle, she could actually see the Golden Gate Bridge. Not that she ever took much time to look at the view—she was usually buried in her work. She loved her job, and she wanted to keep it. While she'd agreed to do the Donovan article, she was going to continue to work on her other story on the side.
Sitting down behind her desk, she opened the file of clippings Roger had given her. The photo on top was a picture of a man and woman leaving a party. The man was dressed in a sleek black tuxedo. He was tall with dark hair, a square face and a strong jaw. He was caught in midstride, the power of his movement clear even through the fuzziness of the photo. The expression on his face was a mixture of amusement and annoyance, and there was something about the thrust of his chin that seemed downright challenging.
The woman was pure eye candy, long cascading blonde hair, big breasts spilling out of a very tight and short dress.
Andrea sighed, turning the photo several different ways as she studied her next assignment. Did Alexander Donovan's eyes hide some sort of a mystery? Or was he just a good-looking man with too much money and too many women?
Whatever he was, she could handle it. She could handle anyone, as long as he wasn't a complete bore. Dull and uninteresting would mean death to her career—a career that was apparently on thin ice.
Her cell phone buzzed and she picked it up, seeing her friend Kate's number flash across the screen. "Hey, what's up?"
"I can't believe you actually answered your phone," Kate said. "You've been missing in action the last few weeks."
"Work," she said, knowing her friends were getting tired of that excuse, but it was the truth. She'd been so obsessed with her last investigation into the car seat manufacturer that she'd put everything else in her life on hold. She just wished she had something to show for all that time.
"We all work, Andrea," Kate reminded her. "But I didn't call you up to give you a lecture. Laurel and I are grabbing drinks tonight to discuss her bachelorette party. She said she's texted you several times but you haven't answered."
A wave of guilt ran through her. Her twin sister Laurel was getting married in a few weeks, and she wasn't doing a great job as the maid of honor. "I can't do drinks tonight. I have a work assignment. But I will try to be at brunch on Sunday. We can talk then."
"What kind of work do you have on a Friday night?"
"I've been assigned the cover story on Alexander Donovan, and he's agreed to let me shadow him this weekend."
"What?" Kate asked with a surprised squeal. "Are you serious? Are you telling me that you're going out tonight with Celeb Magazine's 'Sexiest Man Alive'?"
Andrea quickly leafed through the clippings in the folder in front of her, landing on the cover Kate had just mentioned. "I didn't realize," she said, a little mesmerized by the shot of a bare-chested Alexander Donovan. The man obviously did more than sit behind a desk all day. His abs were ripped.
"Where are you going with him?" Kate asked.
"I don't know yet. I have to meet him at his office in an hour."
"This is so exciting. He's attractive, single and rich. The two of you could fall in
