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chapter seventeen

Jillian

“ Y ou’re doing so well, darling.”

Graham’s voice echoed through my mind on a loop Monday morning.

We were setting up in the courtyard outside of City Hall, where the mayor was holding a press conference about tornado relief efforts.

Chase usually covered these things, but Marco thought putting me on camera would boost ratings.

Apparently, the people of Woodvale liked seeing me out in the wild—which was difficult to do when we had other stories to report on.

It made me feel like I was riding a unicycle across a tightrope with a stack of plates in my hand.

Even when my brain wasn’t preoccupied with the memory of my boss asking if I liked watching his fingers disappear inside of me.

I adjusted the mic clipped to my collar and forced myself to focus as the crew moved around me, lining up their shot and checking the light.

The mayor was scheduled to speak in fifteen minutes Somebody nearby was lining up rows of chairs on the brick pavers, and I recognized a few of the people starting to show up: the president of the chamber of commerce, some city council members, and local business owners.

I got the impression Mayor Michaels had something to announce. Otherwise, this could have waited until the city council meeting.

“We’ll immediately pan to you when she wraps up,” Marco was saying, “for a quick reaction and tight summary before we cut to Bernard.”

I nodded, fiddling with my earpiece. “And then Chase’s pre-recorded segment before it’s back to me, right?”

“Right.”

That gave us plenty of time to snag someone from the crowd for an interview. Actually, I could put Olivia on that task.

After checking my lipstick in a compact mirror, I looked up and searched for her.

She was standing near the camera crew with her arms loosely crossed, watching everything unfold with wide, curious eyes.

Just soaking it in. Something about that girl reminded me of my younger self; a young woman immersing herself in broadcast news for the first time and realizing this is it.

But as much as I saw myself in her, I saw Graham, too.

And it wasn’t just in her eyes or her bone structure, either.

It was the way she carried herself. That whole awkward-but-confident thing?

She had it, too. I smiled to myself as she politely grinned at the Chamber of Commerce president, arching one eyebrow at his back as he walked past.

That look was so Graham.

And just like that, I was thinking about him again. Damn it.

I distracted myself with the note cards I’d prepared for later segments, inhaling through my nose as I reread them. After standing for a straight hour, my hips and thighs were already beginning to ache. And we were just getting started.

Olivia approached me from the side. “Isn’t that your ex-boyfriend?”

I glanced up from the cards, and sure enough, Xander was strolling up the sidewalk toward City Hall with a notebook tucked under his arm.

My stomach knotted as soon as I saw him.

Of course, he would be here—City Hall events like this were kind of his domain, too.

I knew this. But that didn’t stop my breath from catching in my throat or my skin from crawling with guilt, as though I’d done something shameful.

The last time Xander saw me, I was stumbling in the direction of Graham’s house.

He was going to have questions, wasn’t he?

He strolled right up to us. “Thought I was going to see Chase here.”

“Sometimes they let me out of my cage,” I joked.

Olivia stood between us twisting her hair with her fingers, looking Xander up and down. She was looking at him the way most girls looked at Xander. How I used to look at him. But considering he was at least twice her age, he barely even gave her a glance.

Instead, he kept his eyes locked on me and cleared his throat. “Everything go okay Friday night?”

Oh God . Did he really want to get into this now? “Yes, Xander.” I flipped through some of my notecards without really absorbing what was on them. “Thanks for asking.”

“You were still there when I left.”

“I slept in,” I said, smoothing my hair with one hand. I prayed he wouldn’t mention Graham’s name. Olivia was paying close attention to this conversation, and I didn’t want to have to explain why I’d spent the night with her dad.

But Xander, adjusting the notebook in his arm, looked down at the ground and mumbled, “I bet Graham loved having you in—”

“Xander,” I quickly said, touching Olivia’s arm. “Have you met Graham’s daughter, Olivia?”

He blinked at her. “Mornin’.”

“Hi. I’ve read your articles,” Olivia said, still twirling her hair. “I love it when you’re sarcastic in them. Like last week, when you said, ‘in an astounding display of dueling egos’ about the city council meeting? That was so snarky. I bet it pissed people off.”

I was glad she was rambling about this instead of focusing on his mention of her father.

Xander scratched the back of his neck with an uncomfortable nod.

“Uh, yeah. Pissing elected officials off is half the job.” He pulled his phone out to glance at the time before turning to me.

“Can we chat in private for a quick minute before this starts?”

I wanted to say no, but everything was prepped and ready to go. Now all we had to do was wait, and unfortunately, I had a few minutes to spare. I handed Olivia my notecards and followed Xander halfway around the side of the City Hall building, where the noise of the gathering crowd faded slightly.

“Let’s make this quick, Xander,” I said, carefully stepping over the busted sidewalk where tree roots were crumbling the concrete. “I don’t want to miss anything.”

He turned around. “Are we good, me and you?”

“Of course we are. Why?” I asked, furrowing my brows.

“Maybe because you got insanely belligerent with me on Friday night and went out of your way to get under my skin?”

I sighed. “I know, and I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve my drunken belligerence. But… you kind of got under my skin, too, you know.” The words “ you started it ” were on the tip of my tongue.

“I know I did, and I was about to apologize about that. It was kind of an asshole move for me to imply you’d try to sleep with Graham.”

Right, because I would never do that. “Let’s just put it past us.

We're going to keep seeing each other on assignments like this and at the Gardners’ on Friday nights.

If Owen and whomever he hooked up with can put it past them, so can we.

You know, whether it was Kendall or Erika or Abigail…

” I let my voice trail off, secretly hoping he’d give me a clue.

Xander’s eyes lifted to mine, and he smirked. “I’m not telling you who it was.”

“It was worth a shot.” I chuckled, crossing my arms. “How did it go with you and Abigail after I left?”

Xander shook his head, his smirk fading as he stared down at the crumbling sidewalk. “Just a couple o’ buddies, hanging out. It was fine.”

I could tell from the frustration in his voice and his uncomfortable posture it was anything but fine. “You didn’t get to try out the recliner that goes way, way back ?”

That pulled another grin out of him. “Goddammit. Don’t make me picture my friend fucking his wife in that chair. I slept in that thing.”

We both laughed, and Xander cleared his throat, stepping closer to me. “You know, if this Friday you want to—”

My heart dropped to my stomach, but to my relief, some pimply teenage boy with glasses came up behind Xander panting like he was on the verge of an asthma attack.

“Hey Mr. Pierce,” he said, wiping sweat from his brow.

“You accidentally left me in the newsroom. We were supposed to ride together, remember?”

Xander stared at him with a slow blink, like leaving him behind was no accident. “Oops.”

“Xander!” I stomped my foot at him. “Be nice to the interns.”

His eyes met mine. “Wanna trade?”

I could not believe he was asking me this in front of the poor boy standing before us, who let out a dorky laugh like Xander was just kidding around with him. Or maybe laughter was his defense mechanism.

The boy adjusted his glasses. “You wouldn’t want to trade today. I just saw that girl with the dark hair throwing up in a public trash can by the street.”

My hand flew to my heart. “You mean Olivia?” The boy nodded, and I whirled around to stare at the edge of the crowd around the corner. Olivia wasn’t there. “But she was fine.”

“I saw the vomit myself,” he said matter-of-factly. “She is not fine.”

I didn’t have time to process that, because Marco waved me over from the front of City Hall. I’d have to check on Olivia afterward.

I gave Xander a parting glare. “Don’t be mean to the interns.”

He only rolled his eyes in response before I jogged back toward our camera setup as the mayor approached the podium.

Angela Michaels, wearing a royal-blue sheath dress that perfectly complimented her warm, brown skin, greeted the crowd with a smile and adjusted the microphone.

“Good morning. As many of you know, we’re approaching two months since the EF2 tornado swept through our community.

Today I’m here to update you on our continued relief efforts, and to share some exciting news about the future. ”

She went on to announce that the town had received a regional beautification grant, allowing them to replant trees and restore the downtown gazebo, which had been torn apart in the storm.

Several small businesses affected by the tornado were also eligible to apply for rebuilding assistance, the mayor said, pausing to allow everyone to clap and cheer. “That’ll help with her campaign,” Marco whispered.

Somewhere in the middle of the speech, Olivia reappeared by my side as though nothing had happened at all. She mouthed a quick “sorry.” I didn’t ask any questions.

When the mayor finished, the crowd clapped, and Marco gave me the signal.

I stepped in front of the camera with a wide smile, delivering a quick summary of the mayor’s remarks with a hopeful tone. “Woodvale’s on its way back, folks,” I said. “And thanks to this grant, the town’s going to be stronger than ever.”

Just as we cut to Bernard with the weather, I gave Olivia a quiet look of concern. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear, but her face was pale. She forced a fake smile anyway, though. Confused, I pushed down my worry and moved on.

A few minutes later, I interviewed a small business owner Olivia had flagged from the crowd—a baker whose storefront had been damaged during the storm. She’d already applied for the beautification grant to install new windows and repaint her exterior.

The rest of the broadcast went off without a hitch.

But by the time we were packing up our gear and walking back to the WWTV vehicle–a black van with our logo on the side–my thighs were on fire.

The muscles in my hips were screaming from the hours of standing.

I winced with every step, trying to hide it as I slung my bag over my shoulder.

Olivia glanced over as we made our way through the City Hall parking lot. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said quickly. What was I supposed to say, I’m falling apart? “It’s just these dang shoes.”

It wasn’t the shoes.

I studied Olivia’s face. She was still a little pale, folding her arms tight against her chest as we followed Marco and the crew to the car. “What about you?” I asked, recognizing I needed to admit what I knew. “Xander’s intern said he saw you… getting sick?”

I raised my eyebrows at her in concern, and she chewed on her bottom lip. “Oh. Um, I just get nervous sometimes when I’m around large crowds. And it’s so hot out here. Plus, I think the gas station breakfast burrito I had didn’t sit right.”

Though she’d just given me three different excuses, I nodded as though I believed her.

We were both lying to each other, weren’t we?