Act Like You Love Me (Jessica) novel Chapter 67

Chapter 67

Chapter 67

Jessica’s POV

“Don’t forget to take your medicine, Auntie!” I yelled, adjusting the strap of my blazer as I hurried toward the front door.

“I will! And good luck, honey!” She shouted back, though her voice was muffled by the heavy wooden door as I stepped out into the hallway.

I was on my way to an interview at Apex Media.

Honestly, I was a walking contradiction. Part of me was buzzing with caffeinated excitement, while the other part was so nervous I felt like I might actually vibrate out of my skin.

As I reached for the elevator button, the door to the neighboring apartment swung open. Ella stepped out, looking radiant in a casual sundress.

Her face lit up the second she saw me.

“Morning, Jess! Oh, you look great,” she beamed, looking me up and down.

“I’ve been meaning to catch you. Thanks again for dinner the other night. Seriously, that lasagna was to die for. I might start dropping by every night if you aren’t careful!”

I laughed, feeling some of the tension in my shoulders dissolve. “I wouldn’t mind that at all, Ella. It’s nice to have friendly faces around.”

“You headed to work or some other big engagement?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Actually, an interview. And I think I’m already pushing my luck with the time. I need to find a taxi, and I’m still not entirely familiar with the traffic patterns around here…”

Ella didn’t even let me finish. She reached out and snagged my elbow. “Say no more. I’m giving you a ride.”

“Oh, Ella, no, I couldn’t-I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Nonsense!” She was already pulling me toward the parking garage. “It’s my day off, I’m headed out for breakfast anyway, and I’d feel terrible letting you stand on a street corner in those heels. Let’s go.”

After a few more protests that fell on deaf ears, I gave in.

In the car, Ella kept up a stream of lighthearted chatter about the best coffee spots in LA, which helped distract me from the looming interview.

Finally, the car pulled up in front of the Apex Media building. It was a sleek, glass-and-steel monolith that reflected the entire California sky.

“This is it,” I whispered, staring up at the towering structure, my palms suddenly clammy.

“You’re going to crush it,” Ella said firmly, reaching over to give my hand a quick squeeze. “Text me later and let me know how it goes.”

I thanked her one last time and hopped out.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, I smoothed my dress and headed inside.

The lobby was a temple of modern minimalism: white marble, soaring ceilings, and a digital directory that looked like something out of a sci-fi movie.

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13:21 Mon, Jan 12

Chapter 67

Fapproached the receptionist, a woman with perfectly manicured nails and a gaze that was professional but distant.

After I explained why I was there, she gave me directions to the twentieth floor with a practiced smile.

In the elevator, the nerves returned with a vengeance. I found myself tapping my feet rhythmically against the floor, my fingers digging into the leather of my purse.

The doors slid open with a soft ding, revealing a sleek waiting area with plush chairs and glass coffee tables stacked with industry magazines.

Five other women were already there, waiting.

I braced myself for the usual “competitive interview” vibe-cold shoulders and judgmental glares, but I was pleasantly surprised.

Despite looking like they walked straight out of a high-fashion editorial, the women were remarkably polite.

We exchanged soft, nervous smiles as I took a seat.

The woman beside me, a striking brunette with an expensive-looking silk blouse, leaned over.

“That’s a beautiful skin you got there.”

I blinked, surprised by the genuine compliment.

“Oh, thank you! You look incredible too. Your hair is stunning.”

We chatted quietly for a while. Her name was Sarah, and she was an aspiring lifestyle lead.

It felt humanizing to talk shop for a moment rather than sitting in suffocating silence.

After almost an hour, there was only one person left before Sarah, then me.

Suddenly, Sarah’s phone buzzed in her bag. She glanced at the screen, and her eyes nearly doubled in size.

“Oh my God, really? I-yes! I’m on my way right now!” She spoke so loudly the receptionist looked up with a frown, but Sarah didn’t care.

She was practically vibrating with joy, her face breaking into a massive, toothy grin.

She stood up abruptly and turned to me. “It was nice meeting you, Jessica! Good luck! Hopefully, we run into each other again!”

Without another word of explanation, she grabbed her bag and dashed toward the elevators, her heels clicking rapidly like she’d just won the lottery.

I watched her go, wondering what could possibly be more important than an interview at Apex.

Soon, a woman walked out of the inner office, looking relieved. She caught my eye and whispered a soft “Good luck” as she passed.

Before I could even say thank you, she was gone.

The announcer stepped out after, looking down at a tablet.

“Sarah Miller?”

He called but there was no response. The women around me glanced at each other.

13:21 Mon, Jan 12

Chapter 67

“Sarah Miller?” he called again, his voice echoing off the marble floors with more irritation this time.

He waited ten seconds, then made a sharp swipe on his screen. “Candidate is unresponsive. She is officially removed from the selection process.”

A cold, heavy beat of silence followed before he called the next name on the list.

“Jessica Reid?”

My name echoed through the hallway. I stood up, my legs feeling a bit like jelly, and walked into the lion’s den.

Inside, three people sat behind a long, polished table. Their gazes were neutral-blank, almost robotic, which only served to heighten my anxiety.

“Hello,” I murmured awkwardly, standing in the center of the room.

“Please, take a seat,” a man in the middle said, gesturing to a lone chair facing them.

I sat, trying to keep my hands from shaking.

There was a thick, oppressive silence as they looked over my portfolio.

Finally, the silence was broken by a woman on the left. I recognized her instantly; Esther Banks.

She was one of the top media blogger in the industry, known for breaking stories that changed the cultural landscape overnight.

Her dark hair was pulled into a severe bun, and her eyes were piercing.

“Ms. Reid,” she began, her voice like velvet-wrapped steel. “Your investigative work in the Northeast was… impressive. You have a knack for finding the threads people try very hard to hide. That is exactly what we need for our new project.”

She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing.

“Let’s talk hypotheticals. There is a specific high-profile individual. He is a ghost in the media. He’s private, guarded, and his legal team is a pack of wolves. However, the public is starving for news about him. We don’t want the sanitized press releases. We want the real story. We want his personal life, his secrets, and specifically, his love life.”

She paused, letting the weight of the request settle.

“We need an investigative journalist who can move through his world like a shadow. Someone who can gather intel without his team or the man himself. It’s high-risk, but the payout is astronomical, Tell me, how would you approach a target like this?”

I didn’t jump to answer. Instead, I let a quiet, knowing smile play on my lips.

“Before I give you my blueprint,” I began, leaning forward and meeting the eyes of the two women on the panel.

“I have to ask-do any of you read those high-stakes fictional thrillers? The ones with the shadow organizations, the untouchable mafia heads, or the elite hired assassins?”

The panelists exchanged a look of utter confusion. The man cleared his throat, but the two women nodded slowly, curious.

“Occasionally,” Esther, the lead woman admitted. “Why?”

“From everything you’ve read about men who live in the dark, what’s the one lesson you’ve learned about how they operate?”

One of the women shrugged. “That they’d kill for their woman? Or that they’re fanatically loyal to their inner circle?”

13:21 Mon, Jan 12

Chapter 67

Het out a soft chuckle and shook my head.

“The loyalty is the surface. The real lesson,

the one that actually works in investigative journalism-is how they take down an enemy they can’t reach from the outside. They don’t send spies to the dry cleaners or harass the low-level staff. A man that intelligent has already bought the silence of his employees, and they’re too terrified of him to speak anyway.”

The room went still. I had their full attention now.

“To hit the neck correctly, you don’t stay an outsider,” I continued, my voice dropping to a steady, more professional tone.

“You become the friend. You dine and wine with the prey. You find the one person he actually trusts, the one person he lets his guard down with, and you become a fixture in their life first. You move into his peripheral vision so slowly that by the time he notices you, you’re already part of the scenery. You don’t hunt him. You wait for him to invite you in.”

The man in the center tapped his pen against my folder, a look of genuine intrigue replacing his blank stare.

“That’s a long game, Ms. Reid. It requires patience and a level of acting most journalists don’t possess.”

“It requires being a shadow,” I countered. “And I’ve spent the last six years learning how to be invisible.”

Esther’s eyes sparked. She exchanged a quick, decisive look with her colleagues.

The man finally closed my folder with a firm thud.

“Excellent. You’ve clearly thought this through. Honestly, Jessica, your perspective is exactly what we were looking for. The job is yours, provided you’re willing to start Monday.”

My heart soared. A job. A real, high-paying job in LA.

“Thank you! Truly. I’m excited to get started. But… who is the individual? If I’m to start gathering details, I need a name.”

The panel members exchanged a look that made my stomach drop. It was a heavy, weirdly secretive glance that felt out of place given that they’d just hired me.

“You’ll be briefed fully when you arrive next week,” the man said.

“Wait,” the third panelist interrupted, a woman who had been quiet until now.

“She’s already been picked, and we need her to hit the ground running. She has a week before she officially starts. That’s a week she could spend observing him from a distance, gathering subtle details before she has to get closer.”

The other two murmured in agreement. They leaned in, and the air in the room seemed to turn cold.

“The target,” Esther said, her eyes locked onto mine, “is the man who has single-handedly redefined the sports and media landscape in this city. He’s the crown jewel of the athletic world.”

She took a breath. “You’ll be investigating the personal life of Aaron Tyrone.”

The world didn’t just stop; it shattered.

My vision blurred for a second, the sleek office and the expectant faces of the panel spinning into a dizzying kaleidoscope of white and grey.

“What?” I whispered, the word barely audible.