Page 104 of Breaking News

I hadn’t seen him since the airport yesterday. Hadn’t spoken to him much, either—not beyond the rambling texts I’d sent after my appointment. He’d rambled right back, sharing in my excitement that I was finally getting answers.

I thought he might call the night before, but he didn’t. I chalked it up to exhaustion after our New York trip.

Graham cleared his throat and stared down at me as he slipped his hands into his pockets. “I just came to tell you about something.”

“Good or bad?”

He licked his lips and glanced over his shoulder to make sure nobody was around. “I just wanted to give you the heads up that I told Olivia about us.” He paused, gazing into my eyes. “She didn’t take it well.”

I dropped both hands down to the table in front of me, my shoulders slumping forward. I would have thought the opposite, that Olivia would be delighted to know her father was dating me. Didn’t she like me?

Graham lightly touched my arm, noticing my expression. “She just thinks people are going to talk about her behind her back, and she believes they already are because of the pregnancy. She’s embarrassed.”

“I hate this, Graham” I said, the words coming out more like a whine than I’d intended.

For a moment, Graham’s gaze was locked on mine, but then his eyes flitted down to the floor. “I know. And I apologize for telling her without running it past you, but I wanted her to hear it from me instead of that punk-ass intern.”

It was hard not to notice the choice of words or the careless way his voice carried, like he wasn’t even trying to be discreet about this conversation. Something about his tired eyes told me he was at the end of his rope. It was all I could do not to wrap my arms around him and pull him in for a hug, but this wasn’t the right place for that.

“Graham,” I said, keeping my voice low, hoping he’d follow suit. “Isaiah has done nothing wrong. He’s just a kid who witnessed something he shouldn’t have. We can’t blame him for talking about it.”

He just gave a small nod, his gaze drifting toward something across the newsroom. Olivia had just arrived, and she walked right past us to put away her things in my cubicle. She didn’t look at either of us as she passed. No smile, no good morning, not even a glance.

My heart sank.

“She’s not mad at you,” Graham said, taking in my melancholy expression. “In fact, Andrea says Olivia goes home and gabs about you every night. She really looks up to you.”

I nodded, allowing those words to ease the pain in my chest a little. “I guess I’ll just talk to her.”

Graham shook his keys in his pocket, shifting his weight. “Yeah. That might help. And listen,” he said, moving a little closer. He glanced around again just to make sure we were completely alone. “Why don’t you come over tonight so we can… figure everything out?”

I blinked.Figure everything out?

My fingers found the delicate chain around my neck, fidgeting with the little heart pendant as I tried my best to appear calm. “Yeah, sure,” I answered, my voice overly hopeful.

He gave me a quick goodbye nod before turning and walking out of the studio, disappearing down the hallway without another word.

My pulse sped up as I returned to the mirror to finish my make-up. “Figure everything out” might have referred to making a plan for dealing with the public reaction to our relationship, or it could be a “what are we doing here” conversation. The kind of conversation that can end a relationship if both parties aren’t on the same page.

Based on the way he’d looked that morning—tired and distant—it was hard not to spiral. That morning, Graham gave off the energy of a man who was ready to be done with it all. The stress. The secrecy. Maybe even me.

I didn’t have time to dwell on it. I needed to get to the news desk, greet Chase, and go over our headlines for the day. What was left of them, anyway—we were going to have to fill our time with more banter than usual.

Chase handled that better, anyway.

“Should we talk about New York?” I asked him as we went over our notes. “I can tease you about the ghost hunting shenanigans you got into, and you can dish it back because I went back to the hotel and slept.”

Chase nodded, and then he began to grin. “It all makes so much sense now,” he murmured, making sure the camera crew wasn’t listening. “I kept telling Meghan I felt bad that we abandoned you with Graham at Times Square, but she acted like it was no big deal.”

I bit my lip, glancing over at Clint, who was untangling some cords behind Camera One. “Well, maybe we won’t talk aboutthatwhen we’re live.”

“Obviously.” Chase smiled from one side of his mouth. “We should tell them Xander from theWoodvale Timesclearly has a fear of flying.”

“Oh my God,” I said with a laugh, flipping a page in my script. “I thought I was the only one who noticed.”

Chase shook his head, chuckling, and we continued going over the morning’s stories. Marco gave us the five-minute warning, and we gave each other a fist bump—something we’d started last week that seemed to be a new ritual.

“Hey,” Chase said, clearing his throat as he sorted his papers. His expression was suddenly less playful.

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