The Hot Corner by Amy Noelle

Author:Amy Noelle [Noelle, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Writer’s Coffee Shop
Published: 2014-06-23T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

“Bradley Reynolds is a lying, cheating, cold-hearted son of a bitch.”

I blinked, those being the first words Karen Grant had to say when she answered the door to her modern Beverly Hills mansion. Brad hadn’t been entirely accurate when he’d said Karen Grant wasn’t fond of him. She hated him.

“Uh, can you hold that thought while I get out my tape recorder and notepad?” And maybe I could sit down or something? Jeez.

“I suppose.” She shrugged one slim shoulder and stepped aside, gesturing for me to come in. I followed her down a marble tiled hallway and fought the urge to roll my eyes at the columns and shiny vases everywhere. Did everyone here decorate like they lived in a museum? I bet Pam didn’t. I thought I should get her to invite me over for a drink after the interview. I had a feeling I might need one.

I took a seat on another all-white sofa, which was impractical as hell if you asked me, and got hissed at by a Persian cat that matched the sofa so well I hadn’t even noticed her. Well, they said animals often reflected the personalities of their owners. In this case, it looked like that might be true, not that I knew anything about Karen Grant yet, other than the basics.

I cleared my throat. “So . . . I loved you on Clueless in California,” I said. The hit television show about a fish-out-of-water Midwestern girl moving to Los Angeles had been one of my favorites. Karen had been charming as its star. I wondered where all that charm had gone.

Karen shrugged, but I saw a small smile. “Thanks. It was kind of a grown-up’s 90210, but it really launched my career.”

I nodded, and Karen sat across from me after pouring herself what appeared to be vodka from a crystal decanter. She didn’t offer me any, but I couldn’t say I was upset as it wasn’t even noon yet. I set up my recorder and got out my notebook as she regarded me with what I could only describe as complete disdain.

She brushed her blond hair over her shoulder. “Are you ready now? I really don’t have all day for this. In fact, spending a minute of my time talking about that man is the last thing I want to do.”

Did she have to act like I’d forced her to see me? She’d agreed to the interview. I hadn’t held a gun to her head. “I thought you wanted to tell your story. If you’ve changed your mind, I can go.” I started to reach for my tape recorder, but she shook her head.

“No, no. I’m sure I’ll be the only voice of reason in your little puff piece, so I’m going to tell it like it is.”

“I’m not writing a puff piece. I’m writing Brad’s biography, which includes his highs and lows. His wins and his mistakes.” I’d definitely put her in the latter category. What had he been attracted to?

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