Page 39
Story: Breaking News (Woodvale #4)
chapter twenty-nine
Graham
“ C an I ask you a personal question?”
Coming from Richie, I was inclined to respond with an immediate “no,” but I was doing my best to try to like this kid, and I didn’t want to be rude.
I reached for the tongs and dropped some spaghetti onto my plate, giving myself a couple of seconds to brace for this before I answered. “Yeah, go for it.”
He pushed a meatball around on his plate with his fork, eyeing me from across the dining room table. “Did you see Olivia and Caleb come out when they were born?”
My eyes widened at the red sauce spreading out across the noodles. “Uhh. No,” I said, clearing my throat. “They were both born via C-section.”
“Oh. So you didn’t have to watch their heads, like, stretch out the…”
For the love of God. “No.”
“Richie watched a birthing video today, and he’s a little traumatized,” Olivia explained, shaking her head.
“I just didn’t know vaginas could look like that,” he said, making Caleb explode into a giggling fit next to me.
Hearing my daughter’s boyfriend talk so casually about things I’d rather not think about was jarring, but then again, there was no need to tiptoe around the subject.
He’d already gotten her pregnant, and in just a few months, witnessing childbirth would be his reality.
I reached for a piece of Texas Toast from the plate in the center of the table. “Well. Nothing about parenthood is going to be what you expect,” I said, glancing up at him and Olivia. “Just wait until you learn about meconium.”
“What’s that?”
Olivia answered before I could. “Our baby’s first poop is going to be all black and sticky, like tar,” she said, looking into Richie’s eyes. “I read about it in one of the baby books.”
“That is so disgusting,” Caleb said, dipping his bread in his spaghetti sauce. “I’m never, ever, getting a girl pregnant.”
“That should be easy,” Olivia teased. “You’d have to get a girl to touch you first.” Caleb tore off a piece of crust to throw at her, but it went over her shoulder and landed on the dining room floor.
“Hey,” I said, moving my fork around in my spaghetti. “You’re going to pick that up as soon as we’re done.” I almost brought up the time he threw a ketchup-covered French fry at his sister at our old house, staining the kitchen curtains, but I was distracted by the way Richie was staring at Olivia.
“You’re not eating much,” he whispered, reaching over to squeeze her shoulder. Olivia had only taken a bite or two, and she hadn’t even picked up a piece of Texas Toast. Old Olivia could’ve lived off of garlic bread alone.
“It’s the garlic,” she said, making a face. “It smells like… feet.”
Richie gave her a warm smile and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “Let me guess. The baby wants a burrito bowl from Taco Bell?”
Olivia smiled at him, her eyes twinkling like he’d just said all the right words. “The baby also requires extra guac.”
I silently watched this exchange between them, the way Richie anticipated Olivia’s needs without her having to say a word, and her affectionate gaze. It was the first time I saw them as two people who were going to raise a baby together, and not just a couple of clueless kids themselves.
He was watching videos.
She was reading books.
They still had so much to learn, but maybe they were off to a good start.
“Should I feel insulted about my cooking?” I joked before taking a drink.
Richie looked down at his plate. “No man, these meatballs are straight fire. I’m going to steal Olivia’s if she doesn’t touch them.”
I chuckled. When Olivia first said Richie was joining us for our Thursday night dinner, I internally groaned.
But this was actually okay.
We cleaned up the table after we ate, and Olivia hugged me goodbye before leaving with Richie. Caleb and I played a few rounds of Mario Party before Andrea picked him up. She and I talked outside the car for a few minutes.
“How are you handling all of this?” she asked, leaning against her car with folded arms.
“Just trying to keep my sanity intact.” I slipped my hands into my pockets. “Trying not to panic over the logistics, the money, and who’s going to care for this baby while its parents are attending high school.”
Andrea shook her head at me. “I didn’t think we’d be raising another baby together, did you?”
“No,” I said with a long sigh. “But here we are.” I opened my mouth to say more, but my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and glanced at it long enough to see Jill’s name on the screen. I didn’t answer—I couldn’t. Not now.
“Is that Jillian Taylor?”
“Yeah. Probably a work thing,” I said, clearing my throat. “There’s a lot going on this week.”
“You have her in your phone as Jill ?” Andrea wrinkled her nose with an amused smile.
“Everyone calls her that,” I said with a nervous chuckle.
“Olivia says you and her are pretty close.”
“She’s my employee and she’s mentoring my daughter, so yeah, we’re reasonably close.” I tried to keep my expression neutral, but damn it, my mouth betrayed me. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips no matter how hard I attempted to suppress it.
Andrea raised one eyebrow and smirked. “All business, huh? That’s why she’s calling you at eight o’clock at night?”
“The news never stops, Andrea,” I said, but the smile wouldn’t go away.
“It’s funny,” she said, her hand hovering over the doorknob. “Pete and I were just saying that you haven’t brought a new woman around the kids in a long time. It would be great to see you with someone who makes you happy.”
“Caleb and Olivia make me happy enough.”
“Caleb and Olivia aren’t the ones making you smile like that, are they?” She smirked again, and all I could do was shake my head down at the ground. “Goodnight, Graham.”
“Night. Be safe.” I leaned over to wave at Caleb, but he was looking down at his Nintendo Switch.
As Andrea drove off, I stood there for a few seconds, staring down the empty street. Her words replayed in my mind. It would be great to see you with someone who makes you happy.
With a deep breath, I pulled my phone out of my pocket again, staring at Jill’s name. My employee. My daughter’s mentor. The ray of light in my otherwise chaotic life.
I never wanted it to end. But how could it continue?
When she knocked on my door all those nights ago, I never expected I’d end up caring this much.
I didn’t know I’d lie awake at night, missing the curve of her body against mine when she wasn’t with me.
That I’d lose my cool in the studio in her defense, risking my reputation.
I didn’t know I’d end up caring this much.
My phone lit up with a text, but it was from Meghan.
Meghan: Jill still doesn’t suspect a thing.
Meghan: And I’m going to need your credit card again tomorrow.
Another smile tugged at my lips as I replied with an eyeroll emoji.
I sure as hell didn’t expect to be the guy funding Jill’s surprise thirtieth birthday party, but I let Meghan twist my arm. It didn’t take much. And when I told Meghan my idea for the ultimate surprise for Jill, she’d stared at me for a long time, like she could see right through me.
I could probably stand to be a little better about hiding my affection.
***
Friday’s morning show went much better. No cursing, and only a couple of awkward moments–which Jill saved by initiating some funny banter. They even read some of the online comments we’d received about Chase, and there was this whole bit about him stealing the limelight. It was good.
Everything seemed to be on track, but the board called an emergency meeting to discuss Chase’s “shit” mishap anyway.
“Whose idea was it to stick that guy in an anchor chair?” That question came from Arthur Briggs, my former mentor and the man I’d replaced as editor at the Woodvale Times years ago.
The other men sitting around the conference table met his question with laughter, mumbling about what a disaster yesterday’s broadcast was. They needed someone to blame, and when one of them suggested Marco was probably behind it, I took a deep breath.
“It was my idea,” I said. The chatter died down. “I’m the one who recognized the need for a fresh perspective. Chase’s first day was rough, but I stand by my decision.”
I swallowed, feeling only half as confident as those words made me sound.
Every man in that room was staring at me like they regretted voting me into this spot.
I could feel the weight of their scrutiny, each of them silently waiting for me to explain myself further. But I didn’t. That was all I had.
David Granger, the middle-aged accountant with a permanently furrowed brow, cleared his throat and leaned forward.
“Normally when we make big moves like this, we hold a meeting first. It’s a group decision.
You…. you didn’t consult with any of us on this, did you?
” He glanced around the table, and the rest of the men shook their heads.
“This isn’t the type of call you should be making on your own. ”
“I consulted with Marco,” I said. “He greenlit the idea before we made the changes.”
“Marco was pressured into it, it seems,” Jack Olsen, another board member piped in. It felt like the rug had been pulled out from beneath my feet. How close was Marco to these men, and what else had he been telling them?
Somewhere down at the other end of the table, someone muttered the words “Silas 2.0.” The comparison made my spine stiffen.
“Graham,” Arthur said, his voice gentle but stern.
“We chose you to lead us through this transitional period because of how well you integrated the hybrid content strategy under Silas. You proved you can adapt to new challenges quickly. But this—this steamrolling the team and making big picture decisions without even a discussion? I’m sure you can see how it’s taken us all by surprise, here. ”
“Steamrolling?” I repeated, letting his words sink in. There was this nagging thought in the back of my mind that he might be right. I took a deep breath, pressing my palms together on the table.
I needed a better defense.
“I should have discussed this with some of you before going forward. But after observing Jill doing the work of two people for so long, which led to her on-air breakdown, I decided to intervene. Quickly. Chase’s first day was admittedly rough, but today was better.
The public’s reaction has been overwhelmingly positive. ”
A couple of them nodded, muttering quietly in agreement.
“I saw a need, and I acted upon it. Fast,” I continued. “It was never my intention to ‘steamroll’ anything.”
There was a brief silence and more agreeable nods, and I felt a sense of calm. But the relief was short-lived, because Jack took a deep breath and asked, “By the way, how’s your daughter liking that premier internship spot, Graham? Seems like a… valuable opportunity for her.”
It was a ‘gotcha’ question, and everyone at that table knew it. I felt the weight of their scrutiny bearing down on my shoulders. Fuck, if they only knew what I’d really been up to.
Noah Sherman was right: I was under a microscope. Every move I made was being scrutinized, and as long as I was sitting in this role, that would never change.
My gaze drifted to the glass wall that separated the conference room and the studio.
I could see Olivia standing by the news desk, handing Jill a little birthday gift bag.
Jill’s mouth dropped open in surprise when she saw whatever was inside, and she leaned across the news desk to give my daughter a tight hug.
The sight of them sharing that moment hit me in a way I wasn’t prepared for.
Maybe I needed to rethink my priorities.
Table of Contents
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- Page 39 (Reading here)
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