0.
"So, Miss Savannah Fisher, you want this internship?" Marla Knight doesn't look up from her desk. Her nails flick against a glossy folder stamped with the Varsity Ledger logo, the folder holding her future.
"No." She smiles low and certain. "I want revenge." That gets the woman's attention. Sharp eyes, slight smile, like a shark scenting blood. "Your annual feature on college football?" She continues. "I want it, but not another puff piece about grit and teamwork. I want to expose the rot at USC."
"Because of the game that ended your brothers' careers?" The name Fisher carries it's own curse. Everyone already knows. The hit that injured her brothers played on every network for weeks.
"Two of them may never play again." She says. "USC played dirty and walked away. I'm not writing a puff piece, I'm making sure these bastards pay their duties."
Marla's lips curve. "Coach Carrington's program has been untouchable for a decade. Everyone thinks the hardass is Mr. Perfection...." her voice softens. "I should know. I fell for the asshole once, before he became everyone's favorite coach."
She stills. "Carrington?"
The woman gives a bitter little smile. "The one and only. He walked out when I wasn't useful anymore. I've been waiting years for someone with teeth to take a bite out of him."
A slow smile spreads across her face. "Then you'll love this." She lets the names drop like stones. "Jax Carrington. Cole West. Ryder Stone. They call themselves The Apex Three. I call them the reason my family's broken."
Marla grins, eyes flashing. "You're a little pitbull, aren't you? I like it. But if you walk in there with hatred burning in your eyes, they'll shut you out fast. You'll have to turn it down to get under their skin."
She tilts her head and softens her voice, while pressing her chest out and bites her lower lip. "What hatred? I'm just here to write a puff piece and have a really good time with all these hot boys."
Marla laughs. "Oh, God. That's beautiful. You're just innocent enough to pull that shit off. I love it." She slides her card across the desk. "You've got the partnership. I'll set up a liaison at USC. Go practice your sweet southern belle thing and be ready when I call Savannah Fisher."
She stands, squaring her shoulders. "S. Lane." She corrects with a smile. "And trust me, they'll never see me coming."
