Page 112 of Breaking News

We both laughed, and it was the kind of human reaction that I hoped would help our viewers see that we were real people.

I glanced down for a moment, just to breathe. I knew Graham was watching from home. My parents were streaming the show in Tennessee, too. My mom followed the WWTV Facebook page and saw the comments, so she of course had a lot of questions.

“When do we get to meet this man?”she’d wanted to know, and she was completely tickled when she learned she already had.“Oh, he was very handsome!”

I could still hear the way she’d drawn out the word handsomein the back of my mind when we cut to Bernard for the weather. Olivia was grinning over at me, hugging her clipboard to her chest.

Watching how the rest of the town reacted to the scandal had flipped a switch in her. She’d gone into full protective mode, warning the other interns that if they had something to say about her, her dad, or his girlfriend, they could say it to her face.

“I’m hormonal and I fight dirty, so I hope they choose wisely,”she’d told me in my cubicle first thing that morning.

I was relieved she wasn’t holding a grudge. She’d even eased up on Graham, too, showing a little sympathy now that he’d lost his job. And when she referred to me as her dad’s girlfriend,it felt like she was starting to accept it. Like she was rooting for us.

When the morning broadcast was over and everyone scattered, she found her way over to me, beaming with pride. “That was a really good speech.”

“Thank you! I had something written out, but all of that came from the heart.”

Olivia nodded, tucking her hair behind one ear. Her hand dropped to her belly. I could almost notice the tiniest bump there, but it didn’t look much different from how my stomach looked after downing a whole plate of nachos at La Cocina, so I didn’t comment on it.

I couldn’t wait to see how cute she looked with a baby bump, and I wondered if she’d ever let me take her shopping for maternity clothes. For baby clothes. Hell, for whatever she wanted.

“Do you want to know what I’ve been up to?” Olivia asked with one eyebrow raised, and her mischievous tone intrigued me.

“Um, yes? Sounds like it’s going to be good.”

She placed her clipboard on the news desk. “I’m trying to get to the bottom of who’s behind this anonymous post. You can call me an investigative reporter, I guess.”

“I can, and I will. Did you make any discoveries?”

Olivia sighed. “Not really, other than ruling people out. The other interns that Isaiah told swear they didn’t tell anyone else. They said they didn’t care enough about it to go yapping about it to their parents. I think I believe them.”

“Okay, good work,” I said, leaning onto my elbows on the desk. “Did you talk to anyone else?”

Her eyes darted around the studio for a moment before finding mine again. “Well, yeah. I hope this is okay, but I kind of cornered your ex-boyfriend and threatened him in the hallway yesterday afternoon.”

I grinned. “You did?”

“Yeah, I did. And Xander might be a thirty-something-year-old man, but just know that he’s scared of pregnant fifteen-year-olds. I almost had him shaking.”

That image alone made me snort with laughter. “You should know that he’s also scared of planes,” I giggled out. “But what are your thoughts? Did he make the post?”

I already knew it wasn’t him, but I wanted to hear Olivia’s assessment, anyway. “I don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head. “He said only a pussy would post something like that anonymously.”

That sounded like him. “Well, this narrows it down.”

“Now I’m stuck,” she said.

I twisted the ends of my hair, thinking this over. I was dying to know the truth, too. And there was really only one person we could ask.

“You know what? We’re going on a field trip,” I told Olivia. “Go grab your purse.”

Fifteen minutes later, we were pulling into the gravel lot at Sloane Automotive. It was a rundown garage with peeling paint beside a yard packed full of rusty junk cars. Randy Sloane, a middle-aged man with a permanently cocky grin, stood out front, handing a set of keys to an older man who shuffled off with a wave.

Randy was a proud libertarian, and he loved stirring up trouble in his little Facebook group. This scandal was probably the highlight of his entire week.

He licked his lips and widened his eyes as we approached, his gaze bouncing between me and Olivia like he was trying to figure out what kind of trouble we were bringing.

“Jillian Taylor,” he said. “Don’t tell me the Channel Fourteen van needs work again.”

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