Mr. Lieder's stunning assistant had eerie blue eyes—the sort generally seen in films where small, adorable yet demonic children hypnotize some innocent adult into stepping off a cliff or diving into a vat of acid. She had straight glossy hair as black as a dung beetle and wore a tight mustard-yellow pantsuit.

After a few non-verbal 'comments' about the state of Andie's attire, the woman directed Andie to the penthouse bathroom.

Everything inside the dimly lit room was slate gray except for the bright green Venus flytrap lurking on the counter between the two sinks. Andie's mom, who loved almost all plants, never allowed a Venus Flytrap in the house, claiming only vegetarian plants were karmically in balance. Andie splashed some cold water on her face, unclipped and fixed her hair, and brushed the dust off of her suit. She could be deemed practically presentable.

Back in the penthouse reception area, Andie waited for Mr. Lieder on suede gray love seat perched across from the assistant's desk.

Andie examined the metallic coffee table in front of the couch. It had no legs. She waved her arm underneath, searching for wires. Nothing. Could it be magnets? She started to ask the assistant, but became distracted by the five issues of The Star Enquirer fanned across the top.

Sterling's picture graced the front page of three them. Of the other two, one had a photo of Angelina with an enormous-eyed green baby titled Angelina Jolie First to Adopt Extraterrestrial. The other had a picture of a man in a white coat with crazy hair and the headline: Scientists Reverse Aging Process in Fruit Flies. Andie rolled her eyes. Do people honestly believe any of this is real?

"Miss Bank," said a familiar baritone.

Oh no. It couldn't be. Tossing aside Kim Kardashian, Andie cringed, wishing she could disappear.

"I'm Oliver Lieder. Pleased to meet you ... again." He held out his hand.

Andie tried to shake it, tried to speak, but apparently had lost the ability to function as a normal human.

"Are you sure you're up to this today? We can certainly reschedule."

"Uh," Andie cleared her throat, stood, and smiled. "No, I'm fine. Let's go ahead. And thank you again for earlier."

"It was my pleasure to be of help." The way he said "pleasure" sparked Bad Andie, who tried to take center stage. Andie shoved her down, internally reprimanding her with harsh reminders about professionalism and office decorum.

"Did Talia offer you something to drink?"

"No. I'm not thirsty."

"Talia?" He frowned.

"I was just getting to that. I had important business to take care of for Mrs. Lieder."

Wait. Mrs. Lieder? Andie's heart sank. Why this reaction? To a man she didn't know at all. More internal reprimanding about professionalism followed.

"Come in," said Mr. Lieder, as he held open his office door.

"Talia, please get Miss Bank some water."

"Honestly, I don't need ..."

"It's no trouble," he said, gesturing Andie inside.

His office smelled like cinnamon rolls. He directed her to a plush chair in front of an enormous mahogany desk adorned with a disturbing array of carnivorous plants. But that wasn't the most troubling aspect of Mr. Lieder's office. Framed covers of The Star Enquirer hung like trophies around the room, and the issue behind his desk, directly in her eye line, had the cover pronouncing Sterling Champagne "tarnished."

Andie gasped. Was this a company that advertised in The Star Enquirer, or was it the actual tabloid?

"You're the CEO of The Star Enquirer?" Andie said to confirm her suspicion.

"I am."

Andie recalled what Sterling had said about the tabloid, knowing about her wrinkle so quickly. The missing building, the Hummer, the table. All of this added up to a mystery so bizarre that she had no idea how to phrase a question about it without sounding like a lunatic to this extremely attractive man.

She cleared her throat. "I have a few questions."

"I'm sure you do. Excellent. But first, I think you looked parched."

It seemed there would be no avoiding the water. He tapped his desk, and an image of Talia appeared. "Please bring the water. Today."

The image of Sterling on the wall kept drawing Andie's attention.

Mr. Lieder arched his brow and grinned.

"I see you like my artwork."

It's the creepiest thing I've ever seen. "Oh yes. The covers are outstanding examples of The Star Enquirer's ... journalistic integrity."

"Tactful."

"I try."

Someone knocked. "Come in."

Talia handed Andie the glass. "Thank you," she said.

Mr. Lieder and Talia stared expectantly at Andie. She sniffed the water. Seemed fine. And it was probably rude to ask "have you poisoned my beverage?" at an interview, so she drank it. People rarely poison job applicants.

He smiled. "That will be all, Talia."

"Let me know if I can get you anything else. I'll be right outside," she glared at Andie. "At my desk."

Luckily she would never work here because the assistant looked like she wanted to blast Andie into the next galaxy with her demon blue laser eyes.

"Now about your company. I've had a few peculiar experiences I was hoping you could clarify for me."

The door opened and a gorgeous blonde woman with her hair pulled into a severe bun, floated into the room along with a wave of expensive French perfume. Chanel? She wore an impeccable off-white wool suit trimmed in fur.

"I'm in the middle of the interview," said Mr. Lieder.

"Yes, yes. I thought I'd come meet her. You must be Andromeda." Leaning over him, she adjusted his tie.

"May I introduce Mrs. Cyra Lieder," he said, frowning.

Andie's heart sank at the sight of the stunning Mrs. Lieder. "I prefer Andie."

"Charmed," said Mrs. Lieder. "I can see you need this job, poor thing. Dressed in rags. Alas. I believe you will be happy here at The Star Enquirer. Have you gone over the benefits package yet, Oliver?" Her arctic ice-blue eyes bored into Andie's, though she refused to look away.

"She will do." Mrs. Lieder walked over to the framed picture of Sterling and after straightening it, she outlined Sterling's face with a French-manicured claw ... no finger ... no claw ... no finger. Anyway, the way Mrs. Lieder affected a faraway daydream-like expression and caressed the photograph, almost absentmindedly, infuriated Andie.

"What's wrong, dear?" said Mrs. Lieder.

"She's my friend."

"I like her very much," said Mrs. Lieder. "So beautiful. So sexy. Millions of admirers."

"Mother," his eyes flashed with a blue light.

This was his mother? A thousand thoughts tumbled into Andie's mind at once. Relief—hurrah, Mrs. Lieder was his mother, not his wife. Shock—his mother looked to be about thirty years old—about the same age as him. Stepmother maybe? But no, the resemblance was there. But while Mrs. Lieder's eyes were iceberg blue, his were the blue of a flame, the hottest part, nearest the wick. Both had sultry, thick lips, but Mrs. Lieder kept licking hers predatorily. Both were tall and lean and muscular.

"Just get it done," said Mrs. Lieder.

"The door, Mother." Mr. Lieder pointed.

"Oh, Oliver. You are such a bore. And do not forget to tell Miss Bank about the ironclad 'no fraternization policy.' Goodbye for now, Andromeda. Welcome to The Star Enquirer family." She exited.

What a bizarre assumption.

"I am sorry for the interruption. Shall we discuss your compensation?"

"Aren't we supposed to have an interview first?" said Andie. "And I still have those questions."

"There will be plenty of time for that after you start. I am thinking three times your previous salary? Things are heating up with the IRS, and we need you immediately."

"I don't think so."

"What will it take to get you to say yes?"

She glanced at the photo of Sterling. A crazy idea popped into Andie's head. Maybe she should work for The Star Enquirer after all. The best way for her to find out what was going on was to work there. And she could help Sterling at the same time. "Hmmm. I'll take the job under one condition."

"Name it and it is yours. A car? An expense account? Health club membership?"

Andie frowned. "You think I need to join a health club? Never mind. Don't answer that. What I want is for The Star Enquirer to leave Sterling alone."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean no more trying to ruin her career. You only run stories telling the world how fantastic she is. I work for you; you stay away from Sterling. When do I start?"