e model on the laptop s

photograph, taken with a telephoto lens outside City Hall, shows Hadley at her worst: soaking wet, mascara smudged, clinging tightly to a man whose face is subtly bl

and reputations with far more sensational material. Tomorrow morning, every café in Manhattan will be buzzing with t

rse scandals and handled less promising material. "And let them know there's more to this story.

ed, her finger hovering abo

tant about her." She stood up and walked to the window of her apartment-a respectable place in Tribeca, completely different from 15 Central Park West, but comfortable

ial office of The Washington Post, and scheduled for publication dur

bered Blair coming home late the previous night, reeking of whiskey and some other scent she couldn't quite place

herself that once Hadley completely broke down, once she could no longer be seen in any form and would only serve as a cautionary

? She glanced at the screen, frownin

m calling to inform you that your submission to Page Six has been rejected and destroyed. Any attem

lips, frozen in place. "What? You c

s long as you insist on this, you will never have a

hone line

ey. Hadley had used this man's name, whatever it was, whatever he was. And somehow, she had gai

he glass shattered, and bright red liquid flow

-

e headline a

ilently in his inbox, like a venomous snake, waiting to strike. He had instructed IT to track it down; they report

ked on it and saw-the Washington Post website, the headline, the photo. In that instant, he felt a wicked thrill. She had embarrasse

eshed t

t had never existed. The URL returned a 404 error. The title on the homepage

e Washington Post website. The

ched version in my browser history, but the

ut the

board. It's something about 'protecting important advertising relationships.'" Alex's tone remained

ad email, the one from the anonymous inbox, the one

Don't look for her anymor

e city he had conquered, and for the first time felt that this city held secrets he co

ost with a single phone call, erase digital records as if they never e

r her safety, suspicion of this strange protector, and the nat

tasted like jealousy, like loss, like gradually realizing th