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Insatiable 2 (Insatiable #2)

By:J.D. Hawkins

months later, I can't even get an interview for an unpaid internship, let alone a real job.

'We're not hiring.'

'Your application has been added to our list.'

'We're seeking candidates with more experience.'

It's a catch-22: I can't get experience if nobody's willing to hire me, and nobody's hiring me because I don't have experience! I spent four years on my college newspaper, working my way up to editor. I freelanced for blogs, even had a couple of stories published in the local paper, but here in New York City, all that work means nothing.

I'm back at square one.

Today was my last hope-and my best shot. The New York Daily called me in for an interview: my first time actually getting in the door. I was so excited when I walked through the newsroom and felt the buzz of all the ringing phones and people typing at their computers. But my high lasted about as long as it took for the news editor, Charlie Granger, to glance at my portfolio and toss it on his desk.

"I'm sorry, we're cutting back staff right now, not hiring more."

I blinked at him, my hopes crashing to the ground. "But, why did you even call me in if there's no job available?"

He gave me a sympathetic smile. "Look, I like your clips. You've got some good stories here. Good instincts. But I can't use instincts. What I need is stories. Bring me something good, something juicy, and maybe I can swing something."

Which is why I'm trussing myself up in this ridiculous outfit, layering on the mascara and squeezing my feet into Tasha's knee-high stiletto boots. Because I need the story of a lifetime to get my career off the ground, and right now, getting this hostess position is the best chance I've got. My instincts say there are some serious stories to be discovered at The Underground, and my instincts are never wrong.

I grab my purse and go downstairs, wincing at the boots digging into my toes. But my budget doesn't stretch to a cab, so the subway it is for me tonight. I head for the station, my stomach jittering with nerves.

What kind of interview is this going to be? Will I have to do regular hostess things like showing customers to a table and checking for reservations, or does the position come with other demands? I mean, it's not a regular club. The Underground is a super-secretive sex club, catering to the most exclusive clientele.

It was Tasha who turned me on to the place. She heard about a sex club uptown, private members only. The place where New York's elite go to indulge their dirty secrets. Where politicians, celebrities, and Wall Street hide away under the cover of darkness and let their inhibitions go.

She laughed it off like it was an urban legend, but I did some digging, and quickly found out it's the real deal. Ruled over by Dax Ryan, the club is totally secretive, completely exclusive-and my ticket to the biggest scoop in town.

If I can get a job here, I'll be able to snoop around and discover everything that's going down. If I can get proof of a few big names who use this place, and just what kind of scandals they're hiding, that should be more than enough to get me a job at the paper, and my first big byline as well.

I can see it now: Zoe Warren, junior reporter, the New York Daily News. I'll be able to write stories that really matter, pulling in an actual paycheck and learning from the best in the business.

"Aight, sugar?"

A voice snaps me back to reality. A couple of guys are checking me out from across the subway car, their eyes leering. Even under my jacket, this dress is giving them plenty to stare at. "Where you goin'?" One asks. "You got a man tonight?"

Thankfully, we reach my stop and I quickly get out, hurrying to the exit.

There's only one man I care about tonight: the one guarding all the secrets I'm out to expose. He's the one I need to fool if I've got a hope in hell of pulling this off.

Dax Ryan.

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