The house that loomed before her was unlike anything she had ever seen. It wasn’t to say that the Moore family lived in a hovel - the home she grew up in back in Seattle was nice enough, but it could never compete with the building that stood before her. Very few things in life truly intimidated Bobbi Moore, but the home occupied by Kathryn Merteuil made it on the list. Or maybe it was the person who lived inside that caused slight anxiety. It had been a long while since Bobbi had anything exciting to work on for the Chicago Sun-Times. One would think that she would learn to stop snooping into other people’s lives after the disaster that was her last lucrative assignment, but some habits died hard. Of course, it was obvious to anyone why she was so interested in doing some sort of portrait of the disgraced heiress. An exclusive would be enough to gain back some of that clout she once had, to get her back on the path towards the kind of journalism that Bobbi wanted to produce.
It was with slight trepidation that she entered into the home, caught a little off guard by Kathryn’s greeting. As the woman’s lips brushed over her cheeks, she steeled herself against the blush that was threatening to creep. Bobbi Moore didn’t blush, especially for heiresses that were very likely playing some kind of role. She was astute enough to figure that Kathryn saw something she could gain from this little project, but she wasn’t going to let her fool her. Not completely. Just enough to get a good story out of her. “No thank you,” she responded evenly to the offer of a drink, following after the other woman. She tried not to gawk at the room, at all the trappings of refinery of wealth that lay around her. It made her a little uncomfortable, though she chalked it up to the fact that she felt rather underdressed in her vintage band tee and ripped denim.
Her gaze shifted towards the artwork her hostess was admiring just a short moment before awkwardly determining a spot to sit down. Digging out a creased moleskin and fountain pen from her bag, she flipped to the first blank page she could find and prepared to take notes. It seemed that Kathryn wasn’t wishing to dawdle and neither was Bobbi. The sooner they started talking, the sooner she could go. “Thanks for the warning, but I think I’m smart enough to discern what’s real and what’s rather sensationalized. I work for a publication dedicated to truth, not a gossip rag.” Uncapping her pen, she pressed the tip against the page and looked up to Kathryn just in time to catch her gaze. “Besides, this piece is about your truth, and no one else’s. I’m interested in what you have to say and not what’s been spread through the grapevine time and time again.”
She squinted slightly at Kathryn’s next words, conflicted over whether or not she was being fed lines or if there was any ounce of sincerity in her voice. Despite herself, she smiled ever slightly. “I guess time will tell whether or not either one of us regrets this. But if we’re going to have success here then you have to promise no bullshit. I want this to be raw and as intimate as possible. No lies, no cover ups, no rehearsed prose. Just unfiltered, unapologetic you. There’s no sense in dragging all of this out again if you’re not going to be completely honest with me. And if that doesn’t work for you… We can stop right here.” She raised a brow, as if daring the woman to drop any and all inhibitions she may have for what they were about to embark on. “But if that does work for you… Then let’s start from the beginning - tell me who is Kathryn Merteuil? Outside of the scandal and the glamour and everything that comes with that. Tell me who you really are.”
IT WAS CLEAR TO KATHRYN that bobbi moore wasn’t as easily played as the rest of the other journalists she met before, but that wasn’t to say it was impossible. she realized this early on that sweet-talk and pretty looks wasn't what was going to win her over, and considering she didn't have much of a reputation to uphold anymore, kathryn decided to change her tracks. desperately wishing that the sangria in her hand had the kick it was supposed to, kathryn could not keep still — she had to do something, to distract herself from the fact that she was negotiating the terms of her redemption to an unknown journalist. “ i, kathryn odette merteuil, ” she started, taking her time with her each word. “ ... am in desperate need of a dip. ” with that, kathryn moved out of the room and took a few strides to reach the outdoor pool. as soon as she was out the house, kathryn pushed the thin straps of her dress over her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, leaving her topless in her underwear. other than the fact that she spent her entire life modelling, kathryn has never really been self-conscious about her body. she took a few steps to grab the bikini bra that hung on one of the lounge chairs, noting through her periphals the reaction of the woman with her. “ would you please tie me up ? ” she called out to bobbi, holding the fabric against her chest as the straps hung loosely on her sides. “ merci, ” kathryn thanked before walking to the opposite end of the pool, far from the journalist, her eyes flitting from the water to bobbi. “ there are new swimsuits in shower over there if you want to hop in — the water's heated ! ” she called out before jumping into a dive, aware and unapologetic at how she was completely derailing the interview.
contrary to her words before, kathryn had no intention of finishing early. it has been a while since she had company, and if she was going to end up scrutinized and emblazoned on paper by someone from shermer of all places, tests had to be passed. she made us of the brief moment in the pool to think, swimming under the lights towards bobbi on the other side, contemplating the best possible way to go about this. as she reached the edge near the journalist, she rose from the water and chucked as she did, slicking her hair back to remove the stray locks from her face; every slight movement demanding bobbi’s full attention. “ you’re a demanding woman, aren’t you, miss moore ? ” kathryn said as her eyes locked on bobbi’s before roaming her entire face, taking note of her brown eyes and strong jaw. she was easily attractive, and there was a charm to how she sported herself — all grunge and hard in her graphic tee and tattered jeans. “ i would know; i’m the same. ” kathryn smirked as she brought her attention back to bobbi’s face, remembering the conditions she just laid out. “ you told me what you want, now it's time to listen to what i want.
“ i want you, roberta jolene moore. ” there wasn’t a hint of irony in kathryn’s words, each decision precisely calculated — choosing to use bobbi’s full name to make a point about just how much homework she has done on her end. well-aware of how easily she could be misconstrued, after a couple of beats, kathryn let out a small chuckle. her head tilted ever-so-slightly to the side — every little action perfectly timed to elicit a specific response. “ i want you raw and as intimate as possible, ” she added, echoing bobbi’s own words as she pushed her elbows straight, rising a bit from the edge of the water. “ i think it's only fair since you want the same thing from me. you didn't really expect that i'd just strip myself bare just like that, did you ? ” with that, kathryn emerged from the water and the contrast between her words and actions was even more obvious as the cool night’s wind hit her barely-clothed physique. “ metaphorically, at least, ” she smirked as she went towards the lounge chairs, grabbing a towel from a table and softly patting herself dry. “ if it's honesty you want; you would have to earn it. to get an answer, you have to give an answer. quid pro quo, miss moore. ” kathryn treaded the line with her actions, kissing cheeks and stripping down to her underwear, but she made sure to maintain formality with her words. “ i did my research as well as one always should — whether or not this succeeds, you have far more to gain from this than me. i can't have you holding all the aces; that's just bad business. ”
kathryn took a seat on one of the chairs near bobbi as a fresh warm towel hung over her shoulders, barely covering her skin, but provided just enough protection against the cold. “ so this what i propose we do: i say the when and where subject to your schedule, and you don't have to worry about a thing except listening, asking, scribling on your notebook, and sharing in return. ” kathryn had this small smile on her face, visibly entertained by their situation. if bobbi were to refuse, kathryn wouldn’t lose much except for some other form of amusement. she was sure that bobbi wanted this more than she led on with her strong facade and ultimatums.“ how about we start now ? but i just have to say, we need to change the question. the whole ‘ who i really am ’ angle is a load of bullshit. pardon my french, but it is, especially this early on. in the spirit of being honest, i was a little disappointed, miss moore. i expected more than a question that you should know is virtually impossible to answer with any sort of quality, but because i like you, we’ll try again. tell me about your family, your childhood. ” the truth was kathryn already knew the basics about bobbi and her family — their names, origins, occupations, and more — all stored in a handy folder in her room courtesy of her private investigator. she hasn’t bothered reading past the first page, but she had it ready. it’s always better to be safe than sorry; kathryn learned that the hard way. “ all truth, no holds barred. we are building trust here, after all, so go grab a suit and take a dip, or don’t. do what ever makes you comfortable. it’s just us here. ” with a soft smile, kathryn took a quick glance around to prove her point. “ besides, i don’t bite that hard. ”
