Page 33 of Savannah Sweethearts

I enjoyed sleeping in then hitting the gym after I got up. I didn’t arrive at work until three in the afternoon and I liked it that way. “I will be just rolling out of bed at noon, so no thank you. I can wait.”

Attention back to Rex, Tyrell rapped his knuckles on the door frame. “I need that package pronto.”

With a nod, Rex brought the headphones to his ears and got back to work. Tyrell disappeared, leaving me wondering what Kool-Aid they had drunk to think that a woman was all they needed in life.

All I needed in life was a good job, my apartment, and my freedom. All of which I had. Family only complicated things. I knew that because my parents had divorced when I was ten and instead of them fighting over who got to take me and my sister, they tried pawning us off on one another. Finally, when I was out of school and working, I took control of life and left my selfish parents out of it. Romance and family were messy and I didn’t need a mess in my life.

I pushed the thought from my mind and brought my attention back to a story about a new high school opening in Chatham County. Our anchor Russ Raity had already done the voice over and loaded it. With a sigh, I sped through B roll footage of schools to fill the time needed.

Piper

The studio looked the same as it had when I interned at Action News years earlier. As a college student at the Savannah College of Art and Design, I had landed a coveted internship the summer before my senior year. The reporter I shadowed, Jennifer Marcingill, had helped me make a wonderful package that had gotten me hired at a small station in Virginia fresh from college. Now I was replacing her after her retirement. It was like I had come full circle.

I had been born and raised in Chatham County, Georgia. Savannah was my playground. Getting away had been a dream fresh from school, but my family needed me and I needed them. Coming home was a breath of fresh air that I desperately needed.

I checked my makeup in the mirror and reapplied my lipstick – Kiss’n’Tell – before taking a deep breath. I felt my now chin-length wavy hair, a bold and spontaneous move I had made upon moving back to Georgia, and hoped it wasn’t off-putting. Nothing I could do about it now, I told myself as I exited my car. “You got this, Piper. You are a talented and excellent journalist. Show them what you’re made of.”

With a nod, I strode up to the front door of Action News and yanked the door open. I went up to the desk like I owned the place.

“Can I help you?” A gruff woman with a thick southern drawl stared at me from behind a desk.

“Hello. I’m Piper Campbell, I’m here to see Mr. Andrews.” I picked up my chin and flashed my big grin, my signature look.

The woman behind the counter did not care. She halfway rolled her eyes and picked up the phone beside her. “A Pepper Campbell is here to see Mr. Andrews.”

“It’s Piper.” My voice was a whisper and she didn’t hear me. But it was okay because she pointed up the stairs where an older man opened the door and beckoned to me.

“Miss Campbell, come on up. Welcome to Action News.” I returned his smile and hurried to the stairs, my low heels clicking on the tiled floor. As I reached him, he put out his right hand. “I’m Heath Andrews. It’s nice to meet you in person.”

Shake firmly, but don’t squeeze, I reminded myself. People don’t like women who come across as too strong. At least not at first. “It’s my pleasure, Mr. Andrews. It’s wonderful to be back in the building.” I followed him down the hall to his office.

After a briefing of my duties and expectations, I was introduced to an attractive man named Tyrell Harris who took me downstairs to show me around.

“I’m the production manager, a bit of a do everything and anything guy. If you ever need anything, I can help. But your cameraman and producer is more than capable.” He flashed a bright white smile in my direction.

“Is my producer here?” I hoped to meet him—or her—before I started work the next week. Building a rapport was an important part of the job and I had loved my cameraman and producer back in Virginia, he had envisioned himself as something of a father figure to me.

“Afraid not. He doesn’t come in until three, which is when you will be coming in as well.” He held a door open for me and I scooted past his large frame and waited.

Disappointed, I was determined to make a good impression on this man. I would be working with him as well. I smoothed my business dress down and prepared my professional expression.

He took the lead again and I followed dutifully. The halls looked similar to when I had been there almost seven years prior. The walls were still a dusky gray, the carpet the color of rust. When we began to pass desks I tried to recall Ms. Marcingill’s old producer.

“Is Ms. Marcingill’s producer still here? I was her intern several years ago.” I had to walk quickly to keep up with the man’s long strides.

“Well, AO has been her right-hand man for about five years now. Before that was Joe, but he moved.” Tyrell stopped in his tracks and I had to halt my steps to keep from running into him.

“Oh. Did you say his name is ‘Hey Yo?’” Surely I heard that wrong. Perhaps it was an Asian name I had misunderstood.

Sure enough, Tyrell laughed. “Oh, that’s rich. I’ll have to tell him his name is Hey Yo now. No, AO. Like the letters. A and O.”

That made much more sense and I giggled. “Thank goodness. I’ve heard some crazy names, but I’m glad it’s not Hey Yo.” I rolled the letters A and O around on my tongue. They were a strange combination.

We went over to an empty desk that faced into the open newsroom. “This will be your desk, Miss Campbell.”

“Please, call me Piper.” I looked him in the eyes and noticed Tyrell’s smile made it up to the dark brown pupils staring back at me, a sign of a genuine person.

The desk was basic, nothing overly exciting. But I had wall space behind me with plenty of room for my SCAD degree and the award I had won for reporting in Virginia. I would also bring a picture of my family and my cat.

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