Interviewer enters the reception area of Ethan Masters’ corner office, looking around in confusion as Amos and Darius Drake stare at her menacingly: Ah…am I in the right place? I’m Delilah Miller, and I’m here from Wild Card, an online magazine? To interview Ethan Masters?
Amos, one of Ethan’s bodyguards, squints at her suspiciously: Let me see your driver’s license.
Interviewer hands it over, bemused: If you like. I’m not usually put through a background check.
Amos studies it, then sits down and types into a database. He looks up, makes a brusque gesture: Go wait over there. I’ll let you know when I’m done.
Interviewer, irritated: Come on, you guys. What do you think I’ll do to him, anyway? It costs you nothing to be polite.
Amos snorts: Polite, hah. That’s real funny, lady. We have learned, to our cost, that just because you’re a girl doesn’t rule out the possibility that you’re a psycho maniac who wants to eat his liver. So excuse us if we cover our asses. Okay?
Interviewer stares at him, alarmed: Um. Okay.
Amos gestures toward the couch in the waiting area again: Sit there, until we’re sure of who you are. If you don’t want to wait, then leave.
Interviewer sits down, intimidated: Okay. Okay, fine. I’ll wait.
The door bursts open. Ethan Masters storms in, followed by his harried assistant: Damn it, Jenn! I told you not to schedule interviews, press conferences, ribbon cuttings, charity events, balls, galas, cocktail parties, or anything where I have to schmooze! What part of that did you not understand?
Jenn: But it’s just a fawning interview from Wild Card Magazine! You can do this kind of thing drunk and blindfolded! You don’t have to go anywhere or do anything, just talk to Delilah for a few minutes! She’s a very nice girl, and you’ll be guarded by your own personal army the whole time, so I thought—
Ethan: Don’t think right now, Jenn. For the time being, instead of thinking, I suggest that you just do what I tell you to do. When it’s safe for you to think for yourself again, I’ll let you know.
Amos: Uh…Ethan? (He gestures towards the interviewer.) You got company.
Ethan glances over at the interviewer: Oh, shit. She’s here already? Why did no one tell me she was here already?
Interviewer: I am so sorry if I came at a bad time, but I had an appointment—
Jenn, soothingly: Of course you did. I was the one who scheduled you. It’s just a weird time, and he’s having a moment. Don’t take it personally. (She turns to Ethan.) Just do the damn interview, please, and I swear to God, I’ll stop scheduling anything that requires you to act like a civilized human being until further notice. Okay? Pretty please?
Ethan: Jenn. You’re bugging me.
Jenn: Of course. It’s my mission in life.
Interviewer: Um. I could come back later—
Ethan: No. I won’t want you later any more than I want you now.
Jenn: Ethan, damn it! Civilized. Remember? Civilized!
Ethan snorts, exasperated: Whatever. Come on, into the office. But we have to make it quick.
Interviewer follows him past Jenn, who makes encouraging go-go-go! gestures, and into a palatial corner office with two five-meter walls of glass: Good God. This place is huge.
Ethan: I like my space. It helps me think.
Interviewer, scribbling: Hey, can I record this?
Ethan: Fine.
Interviewer: I apologize for the bad timing. I had no idea that you—
Ethan: Let’s get right to it.
Interviewer: Okay. So, I have this list of questions. I use the same one for all my interviews. It’s sort of like my organizing principle, and it gives me a thru-line for any—
Ethan: First question?
Interviewer, flustered: Um, okay. So, how would you describe your childhood?
Ethan, wincing: Oh, shit.
Interviewer: We can skip that, if you want—
Ethan: The first sixteen years were fine. Pretty normal, all things considered. Then my parents died in an accident, and everything went to hell. I had to take care of my brother and kid sister.
Interviewer, looking around at the glass palace: Looks like it turned out okay, though, right?
Ethan, shrugging: Let’s just say, it was a turbulent time. Next question.
Interviewer: All right. What’s your greatest talent?
Ethan: When I was younger, I hacked, and I was very good at it. It paid the bills. Now, I run this company. So far, it seems to work. Other than that, not much talent. My brother and sister are more talented than I am.
Interviewer, eyes lighting up: Sounds like false modesty to me. Can you tell me about your brother and sister?
Ethan: No.
Interviewer, crestfallen: Ah…did I say something wrong?
Ethan, shaking his head: Sorry. It’s just been a weird time. My family’s going through some stuff. I can’t go into it, for security reasons.
Interviewer: Okay. So, do you have a significant other?
Ethan: If I did, I wouldn’t tell you, for the same reasons I don’t talk about my siblings. But truthfully? No. Lots of others…not much significance. Wait. Strike that from the record, okay? It would hurt some feelings. Ruffle some feathers. And I’m trying to be civilized. Insofar as possible.
Interviewer: As you like. So, what’s your biggest challenge in relationships?
Ethan: My terrible character.
Interviewer laughs, waits for Ethan to laugh with her, realizes he’s not joking: Ah, um. So, where do you live?
Ethan: Not a good time for me to publicize that.
Interviewer: Right. Right. So, um, do you have enemies?
Ethan lets out a burst of laughter: Lady, have you been paying attention at all?
Interviewer: Sorry, sorry. So, do you have children, pets?
Ethan: I’m passing on that one, too. Same reason. See why I hesitated to do this interview in the first place? I don’t enjoy putting you in this position. I don’t enjoy being an abrasive asshole.
Interviewer: I understand. Let’s move on. The next question is, what do you do for a living, but I know that you’re a famous tech mogul, so never mind. How about your greatest disappointment?
Ethan frowns: That’s nobody’s business but mine.
Interviewer, ruffling distractedly through her notes: Um. Yeah. Greatest source of joy? Oh, never mind. Scratch that. You don’t want your enemies to know what you care about the most, right?
Ethan: I see you’re finally catching on.
Interviewer: This is a real softball question. How do you like to have fun?
Ethan: Actually, it’s not softball at all. Because I don’t. Have fun, I mean. Not my thing.
Interviewer, perplexed: Okey-dokey, moving right along. How about your greatest personal failing?
Ethan: My sister says that I’m too controlling. But I just like for things to go smoothly, and be done right. Is that a personal failing? Really?
Interviewer: Safer for me not to answer that. So, what keeps you up at night?
Ethan, unironically: Worrying about my family’s safety.
Interviewer: What’s the most pressing problem you have at the moment?
Ethan, laughing under his breath: You don’t want to know, trust me. It would not improve the quality of your life. Or your sleep at night.
Interviewer: I…I said something wrong again. Sorry.
Ethan: I’m sorry I’m not a fun interview subject. I think you need to go. All the problems I can’t share with you are really biting my ass right now. Tell your editor you can’t run this interview right now. Or I will sue your asses off.
Interviewer, shocked: But…but why?
Ethan: Security risk. I think I said too much. If I fix my situation, I’ll let you and your editor know, and you can print anything you want. (hits the button on his desk.) Jenn, come take your journalist away. We’re all done here.
Jenn, entering the room: That was quick. (Turns to the interviewer) Was he civilized?
Interviewer, clearing her throat: Um, well. I don’t know. I don’t know what I said or did wrong.
Jenn glares at Ethan: So he was mean to you? I’ll make him pay for it in blood. Come on, Delilah. I’ll get you a veggie juice at the bar to calm down. Let him marinate in his own bile, alone.
Ethan: Jenn, please remember that I pay your salary, okay?
Jenn slams the door, loudly. Silence follows.
MASTER OF SECRETS by Shannon McKenna
She’s temptation incarnate…Worst idea ever. No matter how stunning she was.After my brother Shane was abducted last year, I’m concentrating on keeping what’s left of my family alive. I will find the bastards who took Shane, and I will gut them.No extra time and energy to get blindsided at a business meeting by Kat Banner, the seductive secretary. Besides, getting anywhere near me puts her in danger, and I won’t do that to a helpless, innocent woman.Thing is, Kat is anything but innocent, or helpless…That arrogant bastard…So, maybe flirting with hot tycoon Ethan Masters wasn’t the smartest move on the first day of my temp job. So irresponsible. I shouldn’t let any guy near the toxic shit-show that was my life just because he’s tall, dark, and mysterious.Then, before I know what’s going on, I’m being yelled at, insulted, and fired, which is bad enough—but the death squad that jumps me and the tycoon in the elevator? That’s over the top, even for me.But Masters fights like a demon. We kick ass together, which is great, until he goes all alpha on me, drags me into his helicopter, and sweeps me off to his luxury lair.I won’t be bought, or shoved around. But soon we’re facing off against brutal enemies and uncontrollable desire…and other feelings we can’t even put into words, not while Death is stalking us. Hell, even if it wasn’t.But the stakes are rising by the minute…and Death is gaining ground…
Romance Contemporary [Oliver-Heber Books, On Sale: August 1, 2023, e-Book, / ]
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About Shannon McKenna
Shannon McKenna is the NYT bestselling author of seventeen action packed, turbocharged romantic thrillers, among which are the stories of the wildly popular McCloud series and the brand new romantic suspense series, The Obsidian Files. She loves tough and heroic alpha males, heroines with the brains and guts to match them, villains who challenge them to their utmost, adventure, scorching sensuality, and most of all, the redemptive power of true love. Since she was small she has loved abandoning herself to the magic of a good book, and her fond childhood fantasy was that writing would be just like that, but with the added benefit of being able to take credit for the story at the end. Alas, the alchemy of writing turned out to be messier than she’d ever dreamed. But what the hell, she loves it anyway, and hopes that readers enjoy the results of her alchemical experiments.
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