Page 8 of All Too Well
Mr. Krispen clears his throat. “Then you’ll write the article, Ainsley. If you know him, that’ll make things easy.”
My jaw drops and I sputter. “Mr. Krispen, I really can’t.”
“Why not?”
Because I’m in love with him and he kissed me four years ago, after which I ran and haven’t seen him since.
“Because ...” I pause, trying to come up with something plausible. “Because ... I’m sure many other journalists have already written something. We need something fresh and new. He’s been on the news all week, so, you know, we’ll look behind on our coverage.”
None of that is untrue.
“Find a different angle then. You have a Heisman Trophy winner who is now a fireman? I want the story on my desk by the end of the month. Wow me, Ainsley.”
Wow him? Right. “I just don’t think I ...”
Caroline cuts me off. “I think Ainsley was worried you would want it to be focused on the fire, but I think she’s going to absolutely find the right angle.”
He nods once. “Yes, focus on the sports angle.”
Aiden scoffs. “Wait, you want Ainsley to write about sports?”
My pride takes a hit, and when I see Tori’s grin, I know that no matter what, I’m going to write this damn story.
“I know all about the sportsball, Aiden.”
“Sure you do, since you just called it sportsball.”
“Whatever. I can totally do it. It’ll be the best story you’ve ever read.”
It’ll be something, that’s for sure. Yeah, I know. I’m not the most likely of journalists for the job, but I will be so good. I’ll learn everything, find a new, fresh angle, and I’ll slay this story.
I hope.
Tori sighs dramatically. “You know, I’ll do it. I don’t know that Ainsley can handle it.”
I can feel the stinging in the back of my eyes, but I won’t letthe tears come. No way will I cry in front of the entire team. Not. A. Fucking. Chance.
I get to my feet, once again my mouth running away before my brain can catch up. “Absolutely not. I know that I can write an amazing story. One that this paper will be proud of.”
Mr. Krispen brings his hands to his mouth and purses his lips. “You’re sure you can do this?”
“I know I can.”
“You want to write about sports?”
No, but it’s all I have. “Yes, and I’ll show you that I can cover a multitude of topics, and hopefully, next time I pitch an idea, you’ll consider me for that.”
“If I give this to you and you don’t deliver, you know you’re writing about shoes and scarfs from now on?” Mr. Krispen asks.
If I screw this up, he can fire me. Although I have enough self-preservation to keep that to myself.
“All right, Ainsley. You have the article. Good luck.”
I’m going to need it when I show up on Lachlan West’s doorstep after four years.
Everyone filters out except for Caroline, who leans against the table, laughter in her eyes. “You’re going to write about sports?”
“Apparently. I mean, it can’t be that hard to learn about football or whatever.”
