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to avoid this kind of sensationalism. It's just popular, mass-market-driven propaganda. And in case you haven't noticed," she added parenthetically—if a little sarcastically—"the typical Man's Life reader is an elitist, sexist snob."
    "Oh, I've noticed that," Lucas assured her.
    Adam nodded. "Me, too."
    Mack narrowed her eyes at both of them, but only continued, "Your typical reader has worked hard and sacrificed a lot to preserve his elitist, sexist, snobby way of life. You might want to be careful to not offend him. Elitist, sexist snobs have a way of not minding how much money they spend to read about elitist, sexist snobbery. Lauren Grable-Monroe doesn't pander to that."
    This time Adam was the one to narrow his eyes. "You know, Mack, I think I speak for both Lucas and myself when I say, 'Huh?'"
    She frowned at him but said nothing, which was just as well, because Lucas started up again.
    "I want to do this story, because I think Ms. Grable-Monroe has acted irresponsibly."
    "In what way?" Adam asked.
    Lucas thought for a moment before responding. "Well, she could cause a lot of unhappiness in the world," he finally said. "Women will be crushed when they don't land the man of their financial dreams even after following the instructions in the book."
    In response to his assertion, Adam covered his mouth and yawned.
    "She could cause a lot of disappointment," Lucas added.
    Adam, in turn, glanced down at his watch.
    "A lot of heartache."
    Adam tugged gently at a hangnail.
    "You know, the least you could do is listen to what I have to say."
    Adam crossed his legs and rubbed at a spot on his shoe. "I will, once you start saying something that doesn't make me want to throw up. Hey, I had sushi for lunch. It could get ugly."
    Lucas gazed down at his drink, then ran his thumb slowly, thoughtfully, along the rim of the glass. "I want to do a story on her, Adam."
    "Why?"
    "I have my own reasons."
    "Care to tell me what they are?"
    Lucas glanced up and met his gaze levelly. "No."
    Adam studied the other man with much interest but didn't pursue the matter. Not because he wasn't curious about whatever was going on in the wily head of the hotshot writer, but because, suddenly, he began to get a pretty good idea of his own for a story. Before he could stop it, the idea had taken root, and even more quickly, it began to blossom.
    It was a good idea for a story, he thought. A really good idea. One that would definitely appeal to his readership. Because it was, without question, elitist. And sexist. And snobby. And it was also, he had to admit, not a little sensationalistic.
    Okay, so sensationalism had its uses, he conceded. Elitist, sexist snobs were only human. In their own unique sort of way.
    "Fine," he told Lucas, even before the idea was fully formed. "Let's do it. Let's do a story on Lauren Grable-Monroe. But," he quickly interjected when he saw Lucas snap to attention again, "it's going to be on my terms. With my spin."
    The other man's disappointment was almost palpable. "Oh, come on, Adam. That's not fair."
    "My magazine. My rules."
    Lucas gazed at him sullenly.
    "Don't worry," Adam told him. "You're going to like this. Because you, my fine, young, ruthless writer, get to go hunting."
    The younger man shook his head, still looking ticked off. "I don't like the sound of that. You know how I feel about the cruel and senseless slaughter of innocent animals."
    "You couldn't care less about the slaughter of animals," Adam said. "But not to worry. For this assignment, you won't be hunting an animal." He smiled with grim satisfaction. "You'll be hunting a woman."
    Lucas brightened some. "Oh, well, in that case, I'm your man."
    "Good boy."
    "Now, then. About this assignment," he continued, dipping his head forward with much interest. "Will I, by any chance, be hunting a woman in lingerie?"
    Adam chuckled. "Hey, if you want to wear lingerie when you go hunting, it's none of my concern."
    "You know what I mean."
    Adam eyed him