For some reason, though, she had a terrible feeling in her stomach about this trip. What was she getting herself into? She wasn’t even a fan. ‘It’s for the good of the magazine,’ she reminded herself. She was the head music reporter for the newest teen magazine, Stir.
Snapping herself back to what was going on, she surveyed the room to see what she was supposed to do. A mother was holding tightly to her little girl’s hand, a young woman was checking in at the desk, a man was holding up a sign that said O’Leary…she almost looked past the last one, but suddenly, it clicked, and she walked over to him.
Meanwhile, five guys waited in a room for someone to arrive. “I still don’t understand why she has to come along,” the youngest one, a sexy blond guy, said. “Journalists are always trouble, and you guys all know it!”
“Do you know how good this will look to the public, Nick? People are going to find out how we live, and you know all our fans will go nuts over it,” another one with dirty blond hair said patiently. He had a very strong southern accent.
“What is this woman like? Have any of us actually met her?” another guy asked. He had blue hair and tattoos all over.
The one who answered had dark, shaggy brown hair and sexy green eyes. “I haven’t met her, but management has. Her name is Liz…Liz O’something or other. It was some Irish last name. She’s from Stir magazine. She lives in the suburbs of New York. She’s twenty-three, and she’s already the head reporter of the music department, so she’s damn good.”
“She’s younger than I am, and she’s already head reporter? Man, she’s gonna dig up some dirt on us,” the young one named Nick grumbled.
Just then, the door opened, and in stepped a small, yet very confident looking woman. She had long, wavy, flowing, red hair and green eyes. Her skin was very light, with a spatter of freckles across her cheekbones and nose. Her body was slim and developed. All in all, she looked…well…perfect. She was followed by a Backstreet Boys bodyguard. “Hi, I’m Liz,” she stated, obviously not shy or star-struck.
Each of the boys introduced themselves. “I’m Kevin,” the one with the dark hair and green eyes said.
The one with the deep accent went next. “I’m Brian.”
Tattoo-boy gave her a small wave. “I’m AJ.”
Another guy, who hadn’t participated in the previous conversation, smiled welcomingly. He was short, and he had curly black hair. “My name is Howie.” He looked at Nick and realized his friend needed something to collect the drool hanging from his mouth and was too distracted to speak for himself. To save Nick from embarrassment, he added, “and that’s Nick.”
At the mention of his name, Nick snapped out of his trance and realized what was going on. “Hey.”
“And you’ve already met me. I’m Larry,” said the burly bodyguard.
“Okay. It’s nice to meet you all. I guess I’m gonna be spending a lot of time with you in the next three months,” Liz said.
“You’re with Stir, right?” Brian asked.
“Yes, I’m the head music reporter on music.”
They chatted for a few more minutes before she wanted to get settled in. “I will see you all later,” she stated before following Larry out of the room.
“Still don’t want her to come along with us, Nick?” AJ teased.
“Okay, so I think I was wrong. She’s gorgeous, and she seems way too nice to make up crap about us,” Nick replied. “I have a new goal for the next three months. I am going to date her.”
“Sorry to tell you this, buddy, but you’re gonna have a hard time. She’s got a boyfriend. That’s what management said,” Kevin told him.
“Aw, dammit! That totally screws up my plans!” Nick exclaimed. “Oh, well. Maybe they’ll break up or something.”
“Nickolas, that isn’t very nice,” Howie scolded.
“Besides, maybe she’ll turn out to be a total bitch and you’ll decide you don’t wanna date her,” AJ added.
“I guess you guys are right,” Nick resigned after a moment of thought. “But that woman is a goddess.”