Page 63 of Breaking News

“Chase is already providing us with ten minutes of pre-recorded—”

“He can do more,” I interrupted, running my hand down my tie. “All he has to do is sit in a chair, read words from a screen, and have a few minutes of banter with Jill.”

“Or,” Marco said, raising his voice louder than mine, “we could nix the intern program, up our ad sales, hire arealco-anchor, and let Chase keep doin’ his thing.”

I swallowed. I hated this kind of power play. Normally, I avoided confrontations like this in the workplace, doing whatever I could to keep everyone happy. And this move was going to piss a few people off, starting with Marco. But it was the move that made the most sense, and I was doing it for Jill.

If it could help her at all, it was worth a shot.

I straightened my back, and I kept going. “No harm in giving it a trial period,” I said. “If it flops, we can go back to the drawing board.”

“Well,” Marco said, scratching his chin. He frowned like he didn’t trust this at all. “You’re the boss.”

“Thanks. Glad you’re on board,” I said, refusing to be the first to break eye contact. I respected Marco—he was one hell of a good producer, and he never gave me any reason to dislike him. But that didn’t mean I was going to back down.

Later, I found Chase talking to Meghan at his desk. His work area was out in the open in the news studio, but the lack of privacy didn’t keep Meghan from perching on his desk—or him from lazily rubbing her thigh with one hand while using the other to stitch a video together on his screen.

“Chase,” I said, standing in front of his desk with my hands on my hips. “Want to go on a walk with me? I want to run something past you.”

Meghan slid off his desk. “What’s this about?”

“You’re not Chase.”

She squinted, folding her arms. “This is suspicious. Whatever you need to say to Chase, you can say in front of me.”

God, she was stubborn. “No, because I need to ask him something, and I don’t need you to influence his decision.”

She turned toward Chase as he stood up, walking around his desk toward me. “Whatever it is, Chase, say no.”

I shot her a playful glare. “Don’t you have an intern to harass?”

“He’s out picking up our Moretti’s order because we didn’t want to pay the delivery fee,” she answered. Meghan followed Chase and me to the door, but I was going to lead him outside, while she probably went back upstairs.

“Does that kid get to do anything besides pick up food for you and Xander?”

“Yesterday I let him organize my email inbox.” She shrugged before heading up the stairs, and all I could do was shake my head. When I looked over at Chase, he was watching her walk up the stairs like some kind of lovesick puppy.

Jesus.

I nodded for him to follow me outside. “I’m not going to lie,” he said, adjusting his glasses as I held one of the double doors open for him. “You’re making me a little nervous.”

“No need to be nervous,” I said with a laugh. We made our way down the steps of the old school and walked along the sidewalk that wrapped around the building toward the parking lot. “I’m just proposing some big changes around here, and it all depends on your cooperation.”

His eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

I came to a halt on the sidewalk, deciding to jump right to the chase. No need to sugarcoat it. “I want you to be Jill’s full-time co-anchor on the morning show.”

Chase came to an abrupt stop, too, looking at me like I’d just told him he was being drafted into war. “Um. What?”

“Hear me out before you panic.” I held up a hand. “You’ll still get to do your field stories—just more selectively, the way Jill does. And then you can sit down and discuss them with her in the mornings, so she’s not carrying the full weight of the show.”

I paused for a moment, allowing this to sink in a little. Chase shifted his weight from one foot to the other, staring at the row of parked cars, but he was quiet.

“I know you already contribute a lot of material,” I continued, “but this would take some of that on-air pressure off her. You saw how we had to scramble to pull together a show when she needed a day off this week.”

“Yeah, it was a disaster,” he said, “because of me. Graham, nobody wants to see me try that again. I was a mess.”

“Only because you weren’t prepared.” I stuck my hands in my pockets, keeping my eyes on his face as he stared down at the cracks on the sidewalk. “The people in this townlikeyou. I’ve seen the comments. You’re relatable. You’re real.”

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