Page 67 of Under Her Skin

Bertie let out a long breath. “Well, no, to be honest. What’s hisgame?”

Bertie, who had been Christo’s roommate at Harvard, had no time for Christo’s father or his associates, and was the only one of Christo’s friends to say as much to his face. Bertie came from old money, older and even more powerful than the infamous Five Families and their successors. Bertie’s money dated all the way back to the signing of the Declaration of Independence – and no one fucked with Bertie’s family.Noone.

Bertie sighed. “Well, I guess you’re clear. Just, for me, take Fogliano’s word at face value for now, but don’t trust him,Christo.”

“I know. But it’s the firststep.”

“I know you, Christo. You’ve got a glimpse of freedom, and you’ll run at it full tilt. I love that about you, brother, but as your best friend…well…I got yourback.”

“Don’t trust to hope.” Christo’s smile faded, although he knew Bertie was right. Fogliano wasn’t someone people left behind without consequence, not even his ownson.

“That’s what I’m saying, but at the same time, go forit.”

Christo mulled over his words. “Okay. Look, the dinnertonight?”

“I’ll come, of course I’ll come. I don’t suppose there will be any chance of some beautiful women to distractus?”

Christo laughed. “No, it’s one of Dad’s sausage parties. But after…drinks atLaForge?”

“Deal.”

New York City

Anoushka ‘Noosh’ Taylor shifted in her chair nervously as her boss, Allison, read through her proposal. Yes, it was her first big story, and yes, it was out there – even for a late-night radio talk show known for tackling dangerous subjects – but in her bones, Noosh knew Ally would go for it. It was the kind of story Allison Monroe had built her fearsome reputation on; a look into the BDSM clubs of New York’s subculture. Noosh had spent months researching and talking to people who worked the clubs, and now she had put together a fifteen-minute segment for the show – her first chance to be onair.

Noosh had come to New York from London a year ago, straight from a doctorate in creative writing, and now she had cultivated an honest and friendly working relationship with one of New York’s major radiostars.

Allison Monroe was known for her exacting methods, razor-sharp intellect, and her ability to convey her natural warmth and vivacity with her interviewees. She set the proposal down now and looked at Noosh over her spectacles. Noosh’s heart was pounding hard against her ribs; she couldn’t read her boss’sexpression.

Allison studied her young friend for a minute then took her spectacles off, laying them gently down on her desk. “Noosh…how old are youagain?”

Noosh felt her face redden. “Twenty-four.”

“And I’m assuming you’re not avirgin?”

The blush deepened. “No.”

Allison sighed. “Sweetheart, while this proposal is well-written, obviously researched, and full of good intentions, it sounds like it was written by avirgin.”

Noosh felt a lump settle on her chest. “Oh.”

Allison smiled kindly at her. “I don’t mean to be rude, darling, but here’s my thing – there’s a sense of ‘Gosh, golly’ about it. And by that, I mean you’re painting this world as some kind of otherworldly experience that ordinary people don’t subscribe to. The people you’ve interviewed here – hookers, security guards, club owners…what about the clientele? And I have one more major question which overrides allthat.”

“Which is?” Noosh tried to stop her voice from croaking with distress but failed, and Allison got up and came to sit on the desk in front ofher.

“Noosh…did you actuallygoto theclubs?”

“Yes, of course,” Noosh said defiantly.Don’t sulk, you’re not ateenager.

Allison smiled. “I mean, at night, as aclient?”

Noosh was horrified. “No, of coursenot.”

“See? How on earth can you expect to convince our listeners you’re an expert on this subject if you yourself have no experience with the places? And Noosh, just so you know, BDSM is no longer a dirty little secret. With safety in mind, it can be a thrilling experience if that’s where your particular peccadillos find their home.” She sat back down behind her desk. “I’m not saying you have to go out and fuck a ton of men or get spanked by them, I’m just saying you should go, sit at the bar, have a drink and see what happens. Watch the interactions between people, talk to them. But don’t tell them you’re a journalist, for fuck’s sake. Pretend you’re the clientele for the night. You might surpriseyourself.”

Noosh’s face was burning. “So…”

“So…keep working on it. There’s promise, but it’s not quite there yet.” Allison handed the proposal back to Noosh. “Darling, it’s coming along. I just think you need to go the extra mile. I’m pushing you because I believe in you. I believe you could be a rising star. I just want your debut to be as perfect as it shouldbe.”