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“On it.”

She consulted her laptop screen. “There was a robbery on Eighth this morning. Shots were fired, but no one was hit.”

“Boring,” Rory said, and he looked it. Huh. Where was the passionate guy I’d seen so many times on air? “We get ten of those a week.”

“Doesn’t mean we don’t check them out,” Kristin said calmly. I could see why she produced, the picture of calm and collected over there. She ran through a few more of the city’s overnight happenings. Acongressman with a vandalized home. Snatched up immediately. A press conference held by a gubernatorial hopeful. Grabbed. I was missing out. Two more stories were nabbed, and I was left wondering what I would do with my afternoon. I hadn’t wanted to seem overzealous on the first day, but maybe I’d blown it.

“I could take the robbery story,” I said, raising my hand. “See if there are any details that might make it more compelling.”

Caroline raised her gaze and studied me as if perplexed. I was now very aware of myself and wondered if I’d somehow said something wrong or strange. Maybe I had lipstick on my chin. I slyly swiped at it.

Kristin, however, nodded in support, so whatever it was couldn’t have been that bad. “Thank you, Skyler. Give it a shot, and let me know. Take Ty. Your photog. You’ll work primarily with him. He knows the city well.” I nodded, took down his name, and would find him when the meeting concluded. I listened as the fifteen or so people in the room went back and forth, pitching ideas, updating the producers on what they had in the works. Even Tam stepped into the space before the meeting concluded.

“Carrie, where are we on the home-invasion segment?” he asked. He turned to Kristin. “Weren’t we looking to slot it at the end of the five o’clock next Thursday?”

Caroline didn’t hesitate. Her eyes flashed. “I need a tighter edit on the reenactment footage, and I’ve asked for it four times, even left my notes.”

“Let me look into the delay,” Kristin said. “We’ll get it turned around.”

I blinked. This was a side of Caroline McNamara I’d yet to see. Calm. Confident. Pointed. Gone was the overt on-air warmth I’d come to identify her with. This version was kind of a badass, and I liked it. I grinned as I took in the rest of the story meeting, feeling like one of the pack. It was a whirlwind of fast-paced planning and organization, and I couldn’t have been happier. When I arrived back at my desk, Carrie was just a few seconds behind me. I heard her heels clicking across the floor. She took a seat at her desk and looked over.

“Can I ask a question?” She didn’t wait for a reply “Why take the robbery story? It’s a dud.”

I thought on it, intimidated. “Just trying to be a team player.”

She nodded. “Admirable. But who is that going to benefit in the end?” She raised an eyebrow. “Not you.”

I opened my mouth, but she was up and moving already, havingmoved on from our interaction, probably off to see about that re-edit she needed. I felt silly now for laying up in the meeting. She was right. I had six months to make my mark or be shipped out and needed to step up more and back up the hunger I’d professed to Tam.

“Are you Ty?” I asked one of the camera guys hanging out near the editing bays.

“Nope. Over there,” the man said. I followed his gaze to a guy with an athletic build, a backward baseball cap, and a pair of cargo shorts. His hair was a mixed mop of blond, brown, and strawberry sticking out from underneath the cap in a variety of directions.

“What can I do for you?” he asked with a big smile.

“I’m Skyler Ruiz. New reporter.”

“Another one,” Ty said and exchanged a look with the first guy. “Revolving door of you guys around here. Luckily, you seem friendly. Do you like food? I’m a big eater.”

“I’m not opposed to it.”

“Awesome. We’ll be buds. What’s up?”

“Kristin said I should grab you. I’m headed out to cover an early morning robbery on Eighth. A 7-Eleven.”

“And you want me to tag along. Snag some shots.”

“I was hoping you’d be game. She said we’d be working together.”

“We will. Just wanted to make you ask.” He grabbed a backpack and car keys from the wall. “Let’s ride. Maybe I can score a midmorning Slurpee. They better have lime, man. Those places always have cherry and cola only, and I don’t get that. The world is bigger than that, ya know? We need the green. And not apple either. Lime.”

“I will hope for lime on your behalf.”

“Hey, I appreciate that.”

Ty meant it, too. Twenty minutes later, while I located the manager at 7-Eleven who’d been on duty when the place was robbed, Ty made a dash for the back of the store and filled up an obscenely large cup with a bright blue slushy drink.

“Tell me exactly what happened last night,” I said to the young guy who’d agreed to speak with me. Brown spiky hair and a nose ring. Once I got his story, we could record some B-roll footage of the store and get a few sound bites from him that could be edited into a short package later.