Chapter 2 .

Snow hadn't always been the keyword of the juiciest click baits splurged all over Silicon Valley's tabloid journalism. In fact, nothing was known about him until a few months before Dudley's publication, until a little more months before Sarah Mays, the founder of Mays Games, kicked the bucket and willed both her business and estate to Snow, a mysterious younger lover of hers. Meanwhile, Sarah Mays' closest associate, Steve Wheeler had looked to be named Mays' successor at the company on the premise that Mays had no children before she finalized her divorce with her husband or after that.

So, it only made sense why Wheeler was distraught by Mays last wishes and why WNDRR Television began prying into Snow's private life since Wheeler became the highest shareholder of the media giant. Now, Hunch Spotter also began turning the beam on Snow because it was a subsidiary of Wheeler's WNDRR Television. Wheeler's grudge against Snow was why there was a need to run a story on Snow in the first place. It was why Mahoney thought he'd finally found a hell for me to burn in.

At the staff meeting that was held this morning, Mahoney, his copper eyes as indifferent as always, had said to me, "You'd take on Snow and that's decided."

I stayed behind in his office when my colleagues left at the end of the meeting so that I could protest getting the Snow story because I had pulled off an extensive cover of Atlas Turner's #MeToo moment only a week ago. I didn't want it. The thought of going to some hamlet in Los Altos Hills was sickening.

"And so, what if your hunch is wrong after all?" I had asked. "I mean Dudley never had facts, he was just throwing allegations about. What if he didn't have any proof because there wasn't any?"

"Well, you could be right," Mahoney had said, crossing his thick hands over his chest. "But you are wrong, Gina. Facts can be created."

I had squinted my eyes at him, eyeing him with unmasked suspicion.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You know exactly what I mean. Snow is a sex predator if management so decides. It's up to you to go along with the decision."

I had glowered at him for hopeless, powerless moments before turning on my heels and slamming his door behind me.

I took a deep breath, let it out and threw back my mirror into the drawer, pushing it to.

"You all right, pumpkin?"

I lifted my head to find Molly standing over my cubicle. It was her cubicle too. She had been my desk partner since I got a job at Hunch Spotter. She wasn't the sort of woman to have necks straining as they turned to have a second look when she walked past, but she was attractive in her own flawed and accessible way. The beads she had for eyes were black and soulful. The round of her face was framed by a shoulder-tumbling, wavy, blonde lob that fell over her right eye, brushing it out of the way, a thing of instinct she did from time to time. The faint smattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose blended so well with the beige of her skin that you'd have to be looking for it before you saw it and her slenderness didn't cheat her out of a near-hourglass shape.

"But it can't be that bad," she added, stepping around the cubicle to take her seat. She had gone out for a break. I lost my appetite in Mahoney's office, so no breaks for me.

"But why does Seth hate me so much?" I asked, wishful as I turned to face Molly.

"You are a black woman for one," said Molly, letting out a snort laugh. I could only crease a little spread across my lips and without taking a glance at my mirror, I knew it looked more like a grimace than a smile. "A black woman that won't let him score a few points."

"But fuck Seth!" Molly whisper-yelled after a pause. "Fuck nine to five! Fuck capitalism, but I'd give anything to fuck Snow though!"

And that was it, belly-deep laughter rose to my throat and exploded throughout the length of the cubicle office space. The steady pound on keyboards from other cubicles thinned as heads began popping to the side to cast warning glares at Molly and me.

Barely containing myself, I said, "I am sorry, guys."

"If you make Forbes thirty-five under thirty-five, you can have me," Molly said, with a wide goofy grin.

I returned my eyes to her, "Can we trade places then?"

"If you can pull it off, I don't mind," she said, beaming. "But I doubt you can. Seth wants you to do this because he thinks getting Snow to sleep with you would be bad enough for you. And who does that? Honey, I'd fuck Snow both ways. In his room and in my story. But listen, I don't think it'd get to framing Snow up. Seth may be as dumb as it gets, but he's never wrong. If he's been informed that Seth runs a sex cult over there, then you got to believe that. All you have to do is get the proof of it and run the story."

"Does it ever cross your mind that we are running a crime syndicate here?" I asked.

Molly shifted in her seat. "This is exactly why Seth thinks he can torture you with this assignment. I really hope you do find filth when you are over there at Snow's cause I know you won't be able to pull sex with him off, but you heard him, right?"

I nodded.

"Management has taken the decision. They want to sink Snow and getting him on tape fucking a college student supposedly interning in his company would do just that. Seth is in charge of handling who does the dirty job. And you know better than hoping you can convince Seth otherwise."

"So, I don't have a choice?"

"You do. Seth wants you to hand in your notice obviously. Cause he knows you are too Jehovah Witness to fuck Snow if it comes to that."

"Can you stop saying that?" I asked.

"What?" Molly returned.

"Stop saying the eff word"

"Fuck, I am sorry," Molly said, giggling as softly as she could. "Fuck! I did it again. Fuck. You should try this Gina. This is truly a fuck situation."

I was quiet for a moment before I opened my mouth in a roaring effort. "Fuck!"

Again, the clickety-clack of keyboards stopped.