Page 16
Story: Breaking News (Woodvale #4)
I opened it and blinked at the screen. I hadn’t even given the girl my email address, but she’d figured it out. With just one quick scroll through the list, I could tell it wasn’t a rush job. Fast, yes–but I was staring at a list of potential stories, and at least half of them were newsworthy.
“I’m still working on that,” she said, “but I figured I’d share what I had in case it helped.”
I turned my chair around to face her and slapped the long counter I called my desk. “Olivia!”
She raised her eyebrows like she feared she was about to be reprimanded. “I’m sorry, did I not understand what–”
“Where have you been all my life?!”
Her shoulders relaxed. “Oh,” she said, tucking her hair behind one ear. “It wasn’t that hard.”
I tapped my fingers on the desk, realizing I had nothing else for her to do.
She worked more efficiently than I’d expected, and I made a mental note to add to her workload next week.
“Damn,” I said, closing my laptop and spinning my chair slightly.
“That was supposed to take you at least an hour, so now I have to figure out what to do with you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, I love it. This is a great problem to have, trust me.” I tapped my pointer finger against my chin, trying to come up with something for her to do now.
“What else do you usually do in the afternoon?” she asked, as though she could read my mind.
I rattled off a few things—making calls, checking sources, reviewing police reports, crafting the perfect thirty-second segment. Olivia nodded along, but I could tell she wasn’t exactly on the edge of her seat.
I tiled my head to the side. “And sometimes… I prank Bernard.”
Olivia leaned forward in her chair, propping her chin up with one fist. Her eyes narrowed with interest. “I’m listening.”
Despite my mounting workload, I pushed all of the afternoon tasks aside to focus on the ultimate prank with Olivia.
We had to involve our graphics operator and another intern for the shenanigans we had planned, and before long, the entire newsroom—excluding Bernard—was in on it.
Marco caught wind of what we were up to and rolled his eyes, admitting that if our stunt went viral, it might be good for WWTV.
Our plan didn’t come to fruition until the following morning. As Bernard stood in front of his green screen, letting Woodvale and the surrounding areas know what kind of weather they could expect that weekend, he was met with something else: we’d given every town in the area a different name.
Like Bikini Bottom.
And District 12.
Bernard was a good sport, doubling over with laughter and playing into it. With his hand hovering over Forks, formerly Bedford, he reported they were expecting a lot of sun with a scattering of sparkly vampires.
Of course, we weren’t total menaces. We’d given him the real slide for his forecast, sparing the viewers any real confusion. By mid-morning, clips of the prank had already started making the rounds online.
I could tell Olivia was one of those teenagers who never liked to admit they were actually entertained, but she couldn’t hide her smiles. This stunt we pulled on Bernard felt like an initiation of sorts—her first real taste of newsroom mischief.
She’d only been there a couple of days, but already, she was establishing herself as the best intern in the building.
The kid assigned to the camera crew accidentally knocked over a boom mic during one of my pre-recorded segments, sending it crashing to the floor.
“At least we’re not live,” I told the red-faced kid, attempting to ease his nerves.
He left at lunch, and we never saw him again.
“Great. More paperwork for me to do,” Elaine muttered once it was clear the kid wasn’t coming back. I just shrugged and shot her a what-can-you-do smile, but she walked off in a huff.
She was having one hell of a summer playing intern wrangler, and I didn’t envy her at all. I was glad I only had to handle the one. And mine was perfect.
On Friday, Graham quietly ducked into the newsroom while Olivia and I had our heads together at the news desk.
We were going over some of the plans for next week.
She would be accompanying me at City Hall for an update on tornado relief efforts from Mayor Michaels, since we still needed to fine-tune some of the details.
I glanced up as I spoke, catching Graham beaming at his daughter.
She noticed me eyeing her dad and lifted her own eyes to stare at him in annoyance. “Hey, don’t give me that look,” he said, taking a few steps closer. “I’m not trying to hover. Just checking on you.”
“She’s doing amazing,” I said, crossing my arms on the desk. “In fact, I’m going to demand she drop out of school to work with me permanently. I’m going to have a hard time letting her go at the end of summer.”
“Oh my God, please,” Olivia expressed, widening her eyes. “I’d do anything to get out of going back to the hellhole that is Woodvale High School.”
“You hear that, Graham?” I asked with a grin. “She’s staying here forever.”
“She wishes.”
Olivia rolled her eyes at him before excusing herself to go to the bathroom. Graham remained in front of the anchor desk, watching her until she disappeared into the hallway.
“You should be proud of that girl,” I said, adopting a more serious tone. “I wasn’t joking when I said it’s going to be hard to let go.”
His smile fully reached his eyes, making those crow’s feet in the corner more prominent.
God , he was so sexy when he smiled like that.
I was mesmerized by his eyes as he spoke about Olivia, not feeling a single shred of guilt about my attraction to him now.
“And if this leads to her pursuing a career in journalism, I’ll die a happy man. ”
“She can use me as a reference for life,” I said, stretching to reach for my mug at the other end of the desk. The coffee wasn’t hot anymore, but I felt like I needed to do something with my hands.
“That’s right, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Graham said, running his fingers through his hair. “Well, I need to check in on the Emo Twins upstairs, but before I go—did you make that doctor appointment yet?”
My smile faltered, having not expected the sudden shift in tone. “I was going to,” I admitted, suddenly very interested in the mug in my hands. “But I got distracted.”
Graham clicked his tongue in mock disapproval, keeping his eyes on mine as he reached across the desk to take my coffee mug right out of my hands. His fingers brushed against mine before he sat the mug down a foot away from me. “There, you’re free from all distractions now.”
I tried not to smile. “Feels like you’re forcing me to make this appointment.”
“Oh, that’s absolutely what I’m doing,” he said in a commanding tone, adjusting his tie. “In fact, if you don’t, I might have to write you up for insubordination.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Graham put both of his hands on the desk in front of me, narrowed his eyes, and said, “Try me.”
Oh, fuck. For a moment, neither of us said anything. With his hands firmly planted on the desk, his body towered over me, sending a warmth that spread to all the right places.
Graham’s eyes never dropped to my lips or my exposed cleavage, much like the way I was avoiding looking at the veins in his forearms. I swallowed, unwilling to be the first one to break eye contact. His jaw tensed, but the glint in his eyes gave away the smile he was working hard to suppress.
It wasn’t until that moment that I realized that whole awkward, self-deprecating thing he had going for him was just an act. His smirk said it all. Standing before me now was a man who knew how to handle a woman.
“Yes, sir,” I finally said, keeping my voice low because I wasn’t sure where Bernard was or if anyone else was around to hear this dangerously flirtatious exchange.
His hands flexed on the desk as he inhaled, but Olivia chose that moment to return to the room complaining about the slow-flushing toilets, breaking us both from the spell we were under.
And just like that, he shifted right back into dad mode, like the last thirty seconds hadn’t even occurred between us. He talked to his daughter about dinner plans, not looking in my direction again for the entirety of their conversation.
I was busy anyway, making that appointment.
For the rest of the afternoon, I fantasized about what it might be like to completely surrender to Graham. I couldn’t stop imagining what he might do if he were really in complete control. Guiding every movement. Setting the pace. Telling me exactly what to do.
But I forced myself to shake it off, because it’s kind of hard to be a good mentor when you’re too busy daydreaming about the intern’s dad.
Table of Contents
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