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chapter eight

Graham

O n Wednesday morning, I put all my trust and faith into a sixteen-year-old named Richie Bailey. He had one job: to deliver my daughter to her first day at WWTV in one piece. Preferably on time.

The night before, I’d gotten into a rare disagreement with Andrea. When I questioned why Richie would be at their house so early in the first place, and Andrea revealed she’d been allowing him to sleep over a lot, I almost stroked out.

And then…

“Maybe you haven’t figured this out, Graham, but our daughter is already sexually active.”

No. No, I hadn’t already figured that out.

I was also unaware Olivia had been taking the pill for at least six months.

As a “precaution,” according to Andrea. It wasn’t that I needed to be part of the decision—it was just that I’d been left in the dark completely.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready to be a grandparent,” I’d said, reminding her Olivia’s existence alone was proof that the pill wasn’t always effective.

And Andrea had the gall to tell me not to be so melodramatic.

The frustration was still simmering just beneath the surface as I walked into the conference room just before 8:00 a.m., where some of the interns were already trickling in.

Elaine passed out packets, pens, and pastries to all the bright-eyed teenagers, some of them still half-asleep.

Others were excitedly watching Jill behind the news desk through the soundproof glass walls of the conference room.

Her live report was over for the day, but she was pre-recording material for the evening broadcast.

I couldn’t hear a word she was saying, but from the animated way she moved her arms, I could tell she was in good spirits. For a few minutes, I was just as distracted by her as the kids were, watching her smooth her hair between takes.

At two minutes before the top of the hour, the packet with Olivia’s name on it still sat untouched on the long table. She was still nowhere to be seen. And when seven out of eight interns had filled their seats by 7:59, my heart began to sink. She was going to be late.

This had to be Richie’s fault. It had to. I’m going to hang that kid by his toes and—

Olivia strolled into the room at 8:00 on the dot, looking more polished and grown up than I’d ever seen her.

I didn’t even know my kid owned a blazer, let alone heels that gave her an extra three inches of height.

She walked in them like a pro, though, giving me a side glance before finding her seat. All business.

I kept my expression neutral, offering only a polite nod and half-smile.

Because twelve hours ago, I made a promise: I wasn’t allowed to acknowledge that she was my daughter in front of the other interns. She said it would embarrass her so much she’d never forgive me, and I took her at her word.

“Welp. I think they’re all here, aren’t they, Elaine?” I asked, adjusting my tie. I’d gone with the full suit today—not my favorite choice, but I figured I should at least try to look like someone these teenagers might take seriously.

Elaine, who was out of breath from flitting around the conference room, fiddled with her lanyard and nodded. “I think so. Are you ready to introduce yourself and say a few words?”

She had been planning this orientation meeting for a few days. She even wrote me a little introductory speech, but I barely looked at it. I was no stranger to speaking in front of a room of young adults.

“Good morning, everyone,” I said, standing at the head of the table.

I waited until the majority of them were looking at me.

“I know you’re all eager to get this boring paperwork out of the way and get started, but I wanted to quickly introduce myself, because you’ll be seeing me a lot around here. ”

I had to remind myself I was speaking to all of them, not just my daughter. I couldn’t let my eyes linger on her face for too long.

“I’m Graham Harlowe,” I continued, “interim CEO of Woodvale News Network. That title might sound impressive, but it really just means I sit in a lot of meetings and try not to mess things up too badly for the next guy.”

A couple of them chuckled, but they had no idea how accurate that statement actually was.

I went on about the exciting summer ahead, reminding them how lucky they were to be sitting in those seats, attempting to work in some humor to help them relax.

Still, nerves were high. The pimply, curly-haired kid on the end looked like he was about to be sick. I figured a little levity might help.

“Just last night, we had a full-blown crisis on Persimmon Road—cows on the loose, chickens staging a mass escape. Absolute chaos. Feathers everywhere. And who was first on the scene? WWTV. So as you can see, we cover all the hard-hitting stories here.”

Only one of them giggled, and it wasn’t Olivia, who rolled her eyes at the ceiling. The guy with the curly hair squirmed beside her, and half of them looked like they could fall asleep at any minute.

Time to wrap this up.

I straightened my tie with a sharp inhale.

“Look, I’m not going to bullshit you guys,” I said, leaning onto my hands on the back of the chair in front of me.

The expletive brought them all to full attention.

“Working for small town media doesn’t always feel rewarding, especially when we’re covering missing dogs or watermelon seed spitting contests. And I’ve done both, believe me.”

I paused, and most of them laughed. I had them now.

“But sometimes, it’s the little guys like us who make a big splash.

It’s not unheard of for a hometown newspaper to break a major story.

A friend of mine in a town with a population half the size of Woodvale won a Pulitzer for his editorial on lake pollution.

And,” I said, making my way around the table.

I lightly touched the back of Olivia’s chair.

“Just a few weeks ago, a woman sitting in this very chair authored an exposé that led to the arrest of a corrupt CEO who might otherwise have gotten away with it.”

They all knew what I was talking about, or at the very least, they’d heard their parents gossiping about it. Every single one of them was staring at me with wide eyes now. Even Elaine seemed a little stunned I’d brought this up. I doubted this wasn’t part of the little speech she’d prepared for me.

“Small town media. Big impact,” I said, letting those words settle for a few seconds as I made my way back to the head of the table.

“Some of the people who started here have gone on to write for the Chicago Tribune or produce segments for Good Morning America . I hope some of you will look back on your summer here as the place where your career in journalism started.”

I let my gaze sweep the table one last time before landing on Olivia. “Good luck,” I said. This was for all of them, but mostly, it was for her. “I’m so glad you’re here, and I hope you learn a lot.”

For the briefest moment, Olivia met my eyes. Then, just as quickly, she looked down at the table, a small grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

Elaine directed the kids to go ahead and work on their paperwork, and that was it.

As I started to leave, I noticed Olivia squinting at her W-4 form.

Beside her, the anxious boy with the unfortunate acne problem adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat.

“Where’d you get assigned?” he asked my daughter.

“I get to assist Jillian Taylor,” Olivia answered with a smug grin. She sat up a little straighter. “What about you?”

“Uhh, the newspaper,” the boy said, his knee bouncing violently beneath the table. His nervous energy reminded me of Reese. “I’m with Meghan Dobson and some guy named Xander, I think.”

Oh, Jesus. I ducked out of the conference room as quickly as possible so they couldn’t hear me laugh.

Meghan and Xander were going to eat that poor kid alive.

“It’s not every day you hear a CEO giggle,” a bright voice said behind me as I strolled through the WWTV studio. I turned around to face Jillian, who was standing with one hand on her hip and the other holding an empty coffee mug.

“What? I’m sure Silas giggled all the time,” I said, stealing a quick—and hopefully unnoticeable—glance at her toned, tan legs.

A smile stretched across her face as she caught up with me, and we both continued walking in the direction of the kitchen.

Was that where I was originally headed? No.

But I could pretend I needed another cup of coffee for the sake of having a longer conversation with her.

“Silas laughed like a Bond villain,” she said as we entered the hallway.

I chuckled, preparing to respond with some dumb joke about Silas having an underground lair, but Jillian spoke again before I could even open my mouth.

“Speaking of James Bond, you’re looking pretty sharp today, boss.”

I blinked, momentarily speechless. Jill grinned, clearly pleased with herself.

My brain scrambled for something clever to say, but all I could think about was how effortlessly she’d just knocked me off my game.

I wasn’t sure I couldn’t exactly return the compliment without my remarks bordering on sexual harassment.

An awkward chuckle was all I could manage at first. As I held open the kitchen door for her, I ran my fingers down my tie, saying, “Thanks, my kids got me this tie for Father’s Day.”

Jill flashed a toothy grin. “Wasn’t talking about your tie,” she giggled, making her way toward the coffee pot.

Then what was she talking about?

My coffee was all the way across the building, sitting untouched on my desk, so I grabbed a fresh mug from the cabinet and waited as Jillian filled her own cup.

She tucked her hair behind her ear as she reached for a sugar packet. “By the way, I know what you did,” she said, her tone teasingly ominous.

I froze. “Uh oh.” Sliding my mug down the counter, I moved closer to her. “You could be talking about any number of things, so that’s concerning.”

Jillian ripped open a second sugar packet. “You told Xander and Meghan I looked like I was in pain on-air.”

“Oh, right. Guilty,” I said, smiling sheepishly as I poured my coffee. Until that moment, it hadn’t even occurred to me that I might have handled it the wrong way. “Yeah, I may have expressed some concern. I’m sorry I went to them instead of speaking to you directly.”

“No, I really appreciate the concern. I’m going to try harder to save my grimacing for when the cameras are off. Sorry about that.”

My jaw dropped. “Is that why you think I said something?”

“I mean, I just assumed…” Her words trailed off as she brought her coffee to her lips to blow on it. “If I keep it up, you’ll start getting complaints from viewers.”

“What? I don’t give a shit about what our viewers think,” I blurted, setting my mug down on the countertop with a loud thud.

When I realized what I’d said, I glanced around the kitchen to make sure we were alone.

Unfortunately, Elaine chose that very second to enter the kitchen from the school gym at the other side of the kitchen.

There was no doubt in my mind she’d heard what I just said.

“Sorry,” she muttered, turning on her heel and exiting as quickly as she could.

I slapped my forehead. “Fuck.”

Jill could hardly contain herself. “Oh my God,” she said, giggling against the back of her hand. Her eyes twinkled in amusement at my new predicament. “I’m sorry, I’m just imagining the damage control it’s going to take to recover from that.”

“Yep,” I said, dragging the word out with a slow nod of resignation.

I cleared my throat, deciding I’d have to worry about this later.

First, I needed to do damage control with the woman standing in front of me now.

“Jillian, I didn’t voice concern to Meghan and Xander because I cared about how it l ooked .

I brought it up because I was worried about you . ”

Her teasing smile slowly faded, and she stared down at her coffee mug, holding it close to her chest. “Oh. Then… thank you. Meghan’s making me go to the doctor.”

“That’s good to hear. I hope you get some answers.”

“Yeah,” she said, but she wouldn’t look at my face. It was almost like she didn’t mean it. There was something else worrying her, but we weren’t close enough for me to ask what it was.

I decided to change the subject entirely, wanting to put an end to her discomfort. “Anyway, I guess you know my daughter’s starting today?”

“Yes, and I’m absolutely thrilled,” she said, the light returning to her eyes. “I can’t wait to corrupt her.”

“Great, that’s just what a father wants to hear,” I said with a chuckle. “I’m far more concerned about how Meghan and Xander are going to treat the poor kid who was assigned to them.”

“I’ll pray for him.”

I picked up my coffee and took a step back. “Tell Xander to be on his best behavior, or HR is going to have a field day trying to—”

“Xander’s not my problem anymore,” she interrupted.

“Oh.” I stared at the floor. Everything about me suddenly felt unnatural; the way I was standing, the way I was holding my coffee mug, how my tie felt around my neck. I just felt… awkward and wrong. Could she notice? “I didn’t know.”

“Now you do,” she said with a grin, gathering up her torn sugar packets.

And then she winked before turning to the trash can.

My brain was still too busy trying to catch up to the revelation that she and Xander were over to react to the wink.

It wasn’t unlike Jill to be playful like that, so I knew not to read anything into the gesture.

As she pushed the kitchen door open with her hip, both hands clutching her mug, she turned around and said, “Before I go teach your daughter all kinds of bad things, I might tell Elaine you said you hope this place burns to the ground.”

“Don’t you dare,” I said, catching her playful smirk just before the door swung shut behind her.

I stared down into my coffee cup, smiling like an idiot.

Jillian Taylor was single again.

Logically, I knew there were about a dozen other reasons she was still very much off limits. Her singleness should have meant nothing to me.

But that didn’t change the fact that I wanted her.

And it didn’t stop my mind from remembering the way that red dress hugged her curves, or the maddening urge to know what she looked like underneath it.