Page 49 of Breaking News

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?

chapter eighteen

Graham

Isat on the edge of my desk with my hands stuffed in my pockets, staring at Jillian up on the screen with City Hall behind her. “I’m signing off for now, folks, but thanks for watching Channel Fourteen News! We’ll keep you updated as more tornado recovery efforts roll out,” she said, her tone casual but confident as she ran one hand through her hair. She’d been working against the breeze the entire time to keep her hair out of her eyes. “Reporting live from City Hall, this has been Jillian Taylor with WWTV.”

The screen cut to commercial, and I reached for the remote to mute it, not wanting to hear what some loudmouth local car salesman had to say. I watched him erratically flail his arms between two Jeeps, though my mind was still stuck on Jill and the way she raked her hair with her fingers.

It drove me mad.

When I closed my eyes, I could remember the taste of her. Thefeelof her. I lay awake the night before replaying what happenedbetween us, and I wouldn’t have believed it really happened if she hadn’t left her book at my house.

The way she moaned my name was very real. It still echoed in my head that Monday morning.

I was losing my fucking mind over that woman.

I’d wanted to call her. Her personal cell phone number was right there in the employee directory. I’d practically memorized it by now, having stared at it for so long. But God, calling or texting her would be stalkerish, sociopathic behavior, wouldn’t it?

Kind of like spending an hour searching for her on social media, only to discover she locked that shit down like Fort Knox. And who could blame her? There were weirdos out there.

Distracting myself by going for a walk through the halls seemed like it might be a good idea. The old school building felt emptier now that we were no longer housing displaced Grissom Elementary students. Some proof that kids recently occupied this building remained—a sticker peeling off the wall here, a forgotten lunchbox on a hook there. It somehow made these empty hallways feel even lonelier.

I was nearing the WWTV studio when the front door of the building swung open, and Noah Sherman stepped inside with that usual, smug half-smile of his. I wasn’t sure what he had to smile about. Now that his buddy wasn’t running this place, we were under no obligation to paint him in a positive light. Whatever positive coverage Silas promised him before he resigned was lost. Noah was going to have to actually impress his constituents, and I hoped like hell Meghan wouldn’t make that easy for him.

I spoke before he could. “Morning. Here to meet with Meghan?”

He wiped his feet on the entrance rug, holding a sleek, leather briefcase by his side. “That’s right,” he said. “In the conference room.”

“I’ll lead you to it.”

Noah was a local attorney at a law firm founded by his father or maybe his uncle. I couldn’t remember. Either way, he was one of the “good ol’ boys” in Woodvale who never really had to work for anything. I would know. We graduated high school together, and even back then, he argued his way out of every single consequence he faced.

I didn’t want to make small talk with him as we made our way through the empty WWTV studio to the conference room, but I didn’t want to appear rude. “How’s the campaign going?”

“Excellent.” Of course it was. I offered a polite nod, pretending to care. “How’s it feel to be in the hot seat now?”

“The hot seat?”

Noah lifted his briefcase to make a broad gesture around the studio. “Yeah, this is your domain now, isn’t it? Temporarily, anyway.” He smiled like this was just friendly conversation, but I didn’t like the way he was looking at me. “You’re the one under the microscope now. I’d be worried, after what they did to the last guy in your position.”

“I’m not worried,” I said without hesitation. “Especially since I’m not stealing from the company or accepting bribes from my golf buddies.”

His smirk widened, like I’d just given him the perfect opening to say what he really wanted. “It’s a good thing you’re squeaky clean, then. Because I’m sure there are people just waiting to pounce if there’s even a speck of dirt. Gotta be careful.”

We’d just about reached the conference room where Meghan was already seated, jotting something down in a notebook. I stopped just outside the door and turned to Noah, who shifted his briefcase from one hand to the other so he could shake mine.“If there’s dirt to be found on anyone,” I said, gripping his hand firmly, “the woman in there is the one who’ll dig it up. Good luck.”

I walked away without giving him another look, having said all of that as if I hadn’t spent the weekend in bed with the morning news anchor.

Just then, Jillian stepped into the news studio followed by Olivia, both of them looking like they were on the brink of heat exhaustion. They moved slowly, red-faced and panting. Olivia was pulling her hair up into a clip, but my eyes were drawn to Jill’s legs stemming from her pink dress. It was hard not to think about those legs wrapping around my waist when we—

“Dad?” Olivia said, fanning her face. “You’ve got to get the air conditioning in the news van fixed.”

I laughed, exchanging a quick grin with Jill before turning to my daughter. “I’m afraid I don’t know the first thing about that.”

“I think she means it’s your responsibility to find someone who does,” Jill said, throwing a wink in my direction. The three of us stood at the center of the studio, with the news crew making their way around us to unpack their equipment. Marco gave me a polite nod as he passed.

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