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“Your wish.” I wrapped my arms around her waist, sinking my lips against hers. “I will miss you,” I whispered. The parking lot was relatively dead at the late hour, but it didn’t matter. We’d stopped hiding what was happening between us, and yes, the whispers had certainlypicked up. And policy-wise, as long as we kept things professional, there should be no trouble with the higher-ups. I didn’t report to Carrie in any capacity.

“Skyler, you good?” Kristin asked, moments before the broadcast went live. “Anything?”

I shook my head, ordering my nerves to stand the hell down. “I’m just ready.”

I looked over at Rory, who nodded to me with an encouraging smile. I pictured him doing his coffee dance and then imagined Carrie imitating it to perfection. That certainly helped untangle some of my tension.

I consulted the iPad in front of me with an outline of the broadcast and a script I’d need should the teleprompter fail. It was funny that they called it the big chair, given that there actually was no chair at all. I’d be standing behind a glass desk as I anchored the five and ten, and thereby made sure my blouse was smoothed and my skirt on straight.

“And five, four, three.” Eduardo, the stage manager, mouthed the two and the one and tossed it to me with an underhanded point. I was live from the anchor desk and ready to drive this thing home. “Good evening, San Diego. I’m Skyler Ruiz in for Caroline McNamara, and there’s lots to get to tonight. A fire in North Park this afternoon had crews scrambling to contain the blaze that threatened to spread to neighboring homes. As families struggled to evacuate in time, the image of the raging fire no doubt ignited fear in their hearts.”

Rory picked it up from there, and we were off. Headlines, a live shot from Carlos, weather, cheerful banter, sports, community interest, more banter, and we were out. It was a marathon that, at the same time, zipped by in a stressful, exhilarating flash.

“And we’re clear,” Eduardo said.

I looked to Rory. “Thank you.” He might love himself a whole lot, but Rory had been kind to me and made the experience a good one.

“No, thank you. You were a champ.” He offered me a high five, which I accepted, loosened his tie, and was out of there. Just another Thursday for Rory Summerton. For me, I felt like I’d taken a round trip to the moon. I stood, still on uneven footing, and absorbed the quiet bustle in the studio as cameras were reset, lights were dimmed, and the place put back in order for the start of the ten. That’s right! I got to do it all over again in a few hours. I rolled my shoulders, now extra smiley.

“Fantastic job. How do you feel?” Kristin asked, emerging from the booth.

“Good. I think.” I squinted. “I suppose that depends on how it went.”

“Couldn’t have been happier. My only note would be to let yourself loosen up a little on the in-between chatter, and tighten up those transitions. Too many beats before.”

I nodded, absorbing the helpful criticism. “Got it. Not a problem at all.”

“You have some time now. Get something to eat and take a look at the stories we have working for the ten. Familiarize yourself. Let me know if you have any questions about anything, and we’ll go from there.”

I’d seen Carrie make this turnaround a million times. A big chef’s salad at her desk and her laptop open as she read through the copy as soon as the producers uploaded it. She’d furrow her brow and nod along, likely saying the words in her head, flagging the copy with questions.

When I returned to my desk and retrieved my phone, it was ringing. Carrie. “I saw. You killed it. I’m so proud of you I could leap through the phone.”

I could hear every ounce of genuine excitement in her voice, and it was contagious. I beamed. “Please leap. I would love to see you right now.” I blew out a breath. “It’s a little nerve-racking, your job. So many moving parts.”

“There’s a lot of choreography that most people don’t know about.”

“You can say that again. I’ve seen it done a million times, but it’s a whole different animal when you’re the one with the reins.”

“Everyone there knows what they’re doing, including you. Remember that. Nothing to worry about.”

“I will. Good tip.”

The ten o’clock went even better than the five, and I felt like I’d found a little bit of traction. I smiled more during the handoffs and let myself breathe deeply whenever I had a short break. I ended the night on a high, strolling to my car, and angling for a celebratory glass of champagne when I got home. The only downside was that my favorite person wasn’t there to celebrate with. I went home to Micky and snuggled into my bed, happy the day had gone so well and gearing up for my second and final day as temporary anchor. If someone hadtold me a year ago that I’d be anchoring at KTMW while waiting for Caroline McNamara, who I was sleeping with, to return home from a conference, I would have laughed them off the planet. Yet, here I was, basking, luxuriating, and enjoying every damn minute.

* * *

I was sitting on the trunk of my car when the cab carrying Carrie from the airport pulled alongside her home. I couldn’t contain my smile as she emerged, having been counting the minutes until I could talk to her, stare at her, and kiss her properly.

She walked directly to me, even letting Micky jump all over her until she’d greeted me. “Hi, you,” she said, immediately pulling me into a kiss. “God, I missed you a lot. Let’s not do this again ever.”

I still hadn’t said anything, my smile dialed to constant and probably hyperbolic. Couldn’t help it. That’s how I felt, like I was finally back in the arms in which I belonged, and that required my happy display. “Agreed. Don’t leave anymore. I’ll pay you.”

“How about I just take you with me?” Were her blue eyes even more blue now? I stared into them dreamily, lost. I adored them.

“Or that.”

She smoothed a strand of my hair with affection. “Unfortunately, you couldn’t cover for me at the station if I did that, and you’re the best fill-in.”