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chapter twenty-two

Jillian

C hase had told our viewers I was sick, as if they all hadn’t witnessed my complete breakdown on Tuesday morning. When I returned on Thursday, I decided I owed them the truth—or at least a watered-down version of it.

“As you might have witnessed, I had a health flare-up on Tuesday morning that caught me off guard, and I took some time off yesterday to rest and recover. I want to extend an enormous thank you to Chase Monroe for filling in, and I’m so grateful to all of you for your patience and understanding.”

I wasn’t reading from a teleprompter. That came straight from the heart.

I continued with a news story about the local splash pad getting some updates and got right back into my flow like everything was normal.

When we cut to Bernard for today’s weather forecast, I let out a sigh of relief, glancing up to see Graham standing in the room sipping from a coffee mug.

We locked eyes across the room for a few seconds before I glanced down at the desk with a sheepish grin, hoping Olivia didn’t catch it.

She was standing nearby, too, clutching a clipboard to her chest while eyeing the monitors.

The show carried on like normal. I read headlines. Bernard warned about rainfall amounts over the next few days. We aired Chase’s pre-recorded story about a cornhole tournament. Everything was smooth.

But beneath it all, I couldn't help but notice a subtle shift in everyone’s attitude, like they were walking on eggshells.

Every single member of the crew only had kind things to say when I arrived that morning, checking on me and asking me if I needed anything.

I was grateful, of course, but there was this underlying vibe like they were all afraid I was on the verge of crashing out again.

The moment I finished my goodbye and the cameras shut off, I let my shoulders drop and exhaled slowly. I did it. I’m back. I leaned forward and gathered my notes into a neat little stack, pretending like I hadn’t fled this desk in tears just two mornings ago.

Olivia and Graham approached the desk at the same time, him with his hands in his pockets and her frowning like there was a storm cloud over her head.

It was hard not to notice the way her brows furrowed or how she barely looked up from her clipboard.

But knowing how teenagers can be, I decided not to acknowledge her obvious bad mood, choosing instead to look up at Graham, who wore a handsome gray button-up with his sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

“How did I do?” I asked, laying my hands on the desk, one hand on top of the other. I had to pretend this was just a normal conversation with my boss, as if he didn’t blindfold and bind me less than twelve hours ago.

“Perfect,” he answered, glancing at his daughter before turning back to me. “But it sort of lacked that unhinged, chaotic energy of the last two shows.”

I grinned. “I could try fainting into Bernard’s arms tomorrow, if you think that would help?”

Graham slid his hands into his pockets, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Could you? It’ll keep the viewers locked in, never knowing what might happen next.”

We smiled at each other like a couple of lust-drunk idiots, barely managing to mask the sexual tension with professionalism.

I glanced over at Olivia just in time to catch the confused, disgusted look she gave her dad before she rolled her eyes and said, “I have to go call the president of the Chamber of Commerce.”

She dropped her clipboard on the news desk and walked around the corner to my cubicle without glancing back.

Graham’s mouth was agape. “My daughter has to go call the president,” he said, beaming like the proud father he was.

“Of the Chamber of Commerce,” I clarified with a smirk. “But it’s still impressive. She’s setting up an interview for me. Also, what the hell did you guys do to that girl while I was out?”

“What do you mean?”

“The moodiness?” I said, motioning her direction with one hand like this was the most obvious thing in the world. “She seems really down today.”

“Welcome to Olivia’s roller coaster of emotions,” Graham said, leaning his hands on the desk. “Her mood swings give me whiplash sometimes, and she’ll never open up about what’s bothering her.”

“Hmm,” I said, tapping my fingers on the desk just inches from where Graham’s hand rested. “Maybe I can crack her.”

“Yeah, good luck,” he said, shaking his head. “I wish she would talk to me about her problems like she used to. But then again, her problems used to be… a boy pushing her at recess. I could make one phone call to the school and take care of it. Now…” He shook his head, letting the rest trail off.

“You can’t fix her problems with a simple phone call,” I guessed.

“Exactly.” His gaze dropped to the floor, and my heart ached for him. He was trying so hard to be a good father, but Olivia was keeping him at arm’s length. I could see that it broke him a little.

“What about Caleb?” I asked, wishing I knew more about Graham’s life outside of this building—and our bedrooms. “Is he as closed off as she is?”

“Not quite,” Graham said, shifting on his feet. “He’ll spend hours on his Xbox, not speaking a word to me, but then he’ll join me on the couch and talk for an hour about how he and his friends took down another squad.”

“Fortnite?”

“What else?” He laughed. He talked about Caleb some more, and I hung onto every word, like I was getting a rare peek into a part of his life I knew very little about.

On the surface, it probably looked like nothing more than a casual conversation between a CEO and his morning news anchor, but this felt like…

intimacy. A different kind of closeness than what we shared the night before.

I swallowed, realizing I’d been craving a connection with a man like this for a very long time.

Maybe there was a way to make this work.

Or maybe I was delusional.

Olivia reappeared a few minutes later, twisting her hair between her fingers as she said, “Devon said Monday at two o’clock is fine. I went ahead and added it to your calendar.”

“You’re amazing! Thank you.”

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Graham touched her on the shoulder. “Hey kid, do you want to have lunch with me in my office today?”

“Sure, as long as you promise not to eat seafood in front of me.”

“I was thinking Subway. Do you want your usual turkey and provolone?”

Olivia froze and then slowly looked up at him like he’d just made the most offensive, idiotic suggestion she’d ever heard. “No. I want a veggie sub instead,” she said, glancing down at her feet as she added, “please.”

Graham let a short laugh slip out before he asked, “A veggie sub? Since when do you like those?”

She dropped her fingers from her hair and frowned up at him “If you’re going to laugh at me, never mind.” She started to turn away, but Graham grabbed her arm.

“Wait, Livvy, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve just never seen you order one before. I saw you picking the tomatoes off your salad the other day. What do you think they put on a veggie sub, sweetie?”

She wriggled from his grasp. “That’s so condescending. I’ll take care of my own lunch,” she muttered before disappearing around the corner toward my cubicle again.

My stomach turned, and Graham’s mouth fell agape. “Was I an asshole just now?”

“No,” I answered, shaking my head as I pushed backward in my stool. “But it might be smart to give her some space. I think I’m going to go talk to her.”

I touched his arm as I stood up, and we locked eyes. “Please,” he said, pausing to swallow. “Let me know how it goes.”

My heart tugged at the notion of him trusting me to handle this. Maybe it was just because I was a woman who might be able to relate to her better, or maybe it was because he knew Olivia actually liked me. Either way, I knew I’d have to approach it gently.

I found Olivia sitting in her usual chair in my cubicle, the Concerned Citizens of Woodvale group open on her laptop. She didn’t look up when I sat down, turning in my chair to face her. “If you’re trying to improve your mood, that group is a terrible place to start.”

“Actually, a bunch of Karens are crying about the splash pad being too loud, and it’s kind of making my day,” Olivia deadpanned.

I folded my hands over the knee of my white linen pants. “Is it just me, or was your dad being just a little judgy about your veggie sub?”

I knew I had to be on her level first before she’d open up to me. And just like I hoped she would, Olivia spun her chair around to face me. “Oh my God. Right?” She let out an exasperated grunt. “He still treats me like I’m a five-year-old, and I’m sick of it. I’m not his little girl anymore.”

I nodded slowly, knowing that to Graham, she’d always be his little girl.

But I couldn’t say that to her right now.

At least, not in those words. “It seems like he’s having trouble grappling with the fact that you’re this professional young woman now.

That means he has to admit to himself that you’re all grown up. Maybe he’s just not ready.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, he needs to get ready,” she mumbled, barely opening her mouth.

I studied her for a minute, getting the impression she might be on the verge of sharing something personal. It would just take the slightest amount of coaxing. “Has something… changed recently?” I asked, keeping my voice low just in case someone else was lurking around.

Olivia looked up, crossing her arms against her chest. Before she even said the words, I was putting the puzzle pieces together. What would force a teenage girl to grow up even faster than she wanted to?

She licked her lips. “If I tell you what’s going on, do you promise not to tell my dad?”

My heart sped up and my skin felt hot all over.

This girl was about to drop something major, and no matter what it was, I would not tell Graham.

“I won’t say a word,” I said, planting both feet flat on the floor and rolling chair close enough that I could lightly touch her knee with my fingertips.

I met her gaze with all the sincerity I could offer “You can trust me, Olivia.”

And without even a beat of hesitation, she whispered, “I’m pregnant.”

I held my breath, finally hearing the words I’d expected were coming. That didn’t make them any less heavy. There was real fear in her voice and her eyes right now, and she looked so young all of a sudden.

“Oh, honey,” I said, giving her knee a pat. “Thank you for trusting me with that secret. How far along are you?”

“Seven weeks.” She adjusted her folded arms. “I went to Planned Parenthood last week—that’s why I left early that one day.”

“Oh, wow. Going there was definitely the right move. Does your boyfriend know?”

She nodded, staring down at her fingernails. “Yeah. He kind of freaked when I first told him, but he’s all in now. Like, he even drove to Barnes and Noble and bought this baby book for dads.”

She looked up with a little smile, and I chuckled. “Um, hello, adorable,” I said, making her laugh, too. “He gets major points for that.”

Olivia nodded, but her smile faltered a little. “Nobody knows besides him and my friend, Sasha. And now… you.”

“You haven’t told your mom, either?”

“If I tell my mom, she will immediately tell my dad. And, well, you’ve seen how he is. He’s going to crash out. I’m not sure he’ll survive the news.”

All I could do was stare back at her with a wincing, sheepish smile.

After all, her prediction for his reaction probably wasn’t far off.

“That might be accurate. I’m sure he’ll freak out a little initially, since sees you as his baby girl.

” I tucked my hair behind my ears. “But you know what? Once he gets past that initial panic, I know he’s going to support you every way he can.

I really believe that, Olivia. He loves you more than anything, and he’ll be there every step of the way. ”

I wasn’t bullshitting this kid. I meant every word. I knew in my bones that Graham would guide her through this because that’s who he was. He took care of the people he cared about.

Why did my throat feel scratchy all of a sudden?

“He hates Richie, though,” Olivia said, shaking her head. “He’s going to kill him.”

“He’s not going to kill him.”

“He already mildly threatened him outside of La Cocina last weekend. I’ve been trying to tell him that Richie is a good, responsible guy, but I can tell he doesn’t trust him.”

I leaned back slightly in my chair. “Tell him about the book,” I said, “and let Richie show him how responsible he is with his actions, not just words.”

Olivia nodded, but she was quiet for a moment.

I watched her chew on her thumbnail, and I tried to picture how my fifteen-year-old self would have handled pregnancy.

A baby. The sheer weight of it all. I could hardly remember to wear my retainer, so being responsible for a whole other person was unthinkable.

Then again, that was in the time of Roe v. Wade. I would’ve had more choices than Olivia, who was sitting there looking like she was barely holding it together.

“Are you taking prenatal vitamins?” I asked, and she answered with a nod. “Okay, good! You’re already being smart about this.”

“I changed my diet and cut way down on caffeine, too,” she said in a perky voice, like she wanted me to be proud. And I was.

“You’re doing great, Olivia,” I said, leaning in a little closer. “And you know what? I think you should tell your mom and dad. The sooner you do, the sooner they can support you through this. I don’t think it’ll be as scary as you think.”

Olivia exhaled, her shoulders sinking like she was carrying the weight of the world on them.

And then a small smile formed on her lips, and she rolled her eyes.

“I bet my dad’s going to be the type of grandpa who’ll insist on being called Pappy or Pop-Pop or something goofy like that,” she said before turning back to her laptop.

My smile quickly faded and I froze, staring at the back of Olivia’s head.

Grandpa.

The word echoed through my brain like an alarm bell.

Last night, a soon-to-be grandpa tied me to my headboard and edged me until I almost cried.

Suddenly, the age gap between us felt wider than before.