looking at her expectantly.
“Well,” he said.
She dropped petulantly into her office chair. “Why should I care what some gossipmonger has to say?”
“You should care because it affects your business.”
“I sincerely doubt it.”
“Are you even going to read it?”
You bet your booty she was. But not now, with Marty looming over her, watching the painful process. “Maybe later. After coffee.”
Marty twisted the laptop to face him and began reading aloud. “Christmas has come early for those of us who love juicy gossip—”
“Honestly, Marty,” she interrupted. “Is this really necessary?”
“Yes.” His tone was unexpectedly firm. “You need to read this before anyone from FMJ shows up.”
She mimicked his tone. “Fine. Then be a dear and get me that mocha latte and I’ll be done reading it by the time you get back.”
As soon as he was gone, she leaned forward and began the laborious process of reading.
Christmas has come early for those of us who love juicy gossip. Readers of this column are probably wondering why Kitty Biedermann’s love life has been so dull lately. Ever since her breakup with Derek Messina, she’s been nursing her broken heart in private. But no longer!
This time she’s set her sights on entrepreneur Ford Langley of FMJ. The two were seen together at the posh Children’s Medical Foundation fundraiser just last night. It’s not surprising the enterprising Kitty would try to land such a hunky catch. The shocker is that they may be entering into professional negotiations as well as personal ones. There are rumors that Biedermann’s is about to get gobbled up by FMJ.
And that’s not even the biggest news. An inside source says Kitty may be expecting more than just a hefty bonus from FMJ. The only question is, once Langley finds out about Kitty’s little bundle of joy, will he still be interested in saving Biedermann’s Jewelry? Or will the heiress have to raise her baby and run her company all on her own?
Kitty felt bile rise in her throat as she sat back in her chair. Oh, dear lord.
Before she even began to ponder the issue, Marty reappeared. The mocha latte he set down in front of her did nothing to settle her stomach. His stony expression did little to quell her fears.
“I got a decaf. Just in case she’s right.” He must have read her answer in her expression, because he propped his hip on the edge of her desk and muttered a curse.
“How did she find out?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Guess.”
But she couldn’t guess. She’d known herself for less than seventy-two hours. How had Suzy-stinkin’-Snark found out about it?
“I bought a pregnancy test,” she said aloud. “Someone must have seen me do it.”
Marty sighed. “And if it was someone who reads the blog and recognized you, they would have contacted Suzy right away.”
Marty’s obvious annoyance rankled. “Why are you acting all put out over this? This is my private life she’s exploiting.”
“And it affects our business. Why were you out with Ford anyway? Did you think making a conquest of him would make this buyout any easier on you? Do you really think FMJ is going to want to do business with you when you act like this?”
She could only stammer in response. For years she’d put up with Marty’s passive-aggressive kowtowing, and now—the one time she could have really used him in her corner—he was turning on her?
Kitty was saved from having to formulate a defense when Ford appeared at the door.
“Oh, goody,” she muttered. “Because I wasn’t feeling beleaguered enough.”
Ford swept into the room with all the subtly of a tsunami, and he brought flotsam and jetsam in his wake. Jonathon and Casey followed him.
“I assume you’ve both seen it.”
Kitty opened her mouth to answer, but before she could, he turned to her assistant. “We’re going to have to make a preemptive strike. We’ll schedule a press conference. But not for this afternoon. We want to appear proactive, but we don’t want to lend credence to the blog by appearing to be reacting to it. So announce the press conference, but schedule it for a few days out. Wednesday maybe. Jonathon, why don’t you and Marty get started on that? Casey, you can—”
Fear propelled her to her feet. “A press conference?” She tried to scoff convincingly. “Over a piddling gossip blog? Isn’t that overreacting?”
Ford turned the weight of his gaze on her. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Not at all. FMJ’s acquisition of Biedermann’s hasn’t been officially announced yet. It doesn’t look good that the news was leaked.”
Right. The acquisition. The news of her pregnancy had overshadowed everything else. She’d forgotten that the blog even mentioned the buyout.
“But,” she protested. “It was leaked to a gossip blog. One that no one is likely to read. And it’s even less likely that anyone who does would care about business.”
“This blog may have a wider readership than you think. We all read it within a few hours. We have to assume others have, too. If we work fast, we can minimize the damage.”
“Why should we respond at all? We certainly don’t want people thinking that whatever this woman posts online is true.”
Marty’s gaze had been ping-ponging back and forth between them. Ford narrowed his gaze at the other man, giving him a why-are-you-still-here look. Before Marty could respond to the unspoken question. Jonathon ushered both Casey and Marty out with such practiced ease, she couldn’t help wondering if he and Ford had orchestrated the move.
“Wow,” she murmured. “I’m impressed. Normally it’s impossible to get Marty out of my office when he’s got a bone to pick.” She gestured between Ford and the door through which Jonathon had just vanished. “Did you guys plan out that two-pronged approach? Not that I mind. If we have to talk about that blog, I’d much rather do it without an audience.”
“Damn right we have to talk about that blog. Was she right? Are you pregnant?”
“Does it matter?” Kitty countered smoothly.
Her lack of denial was all the confirmation he needed. Ford gritted his teeth against the questions he wanted to throw at her. As prickly as she was, it wouldn’t take much to push her into a full-fledged argument.
“I’d prefer a quiet wedding, but I’ll leave that up to you. We should—”
She spun to face him. “We’re not getting married.”
“Of course, we’re getting married.” A hard note crept into his voice. “I’m not going to
