Page 6 of Love in Training
“Caprice.”
I meet his gray-blue eyes and let out a long, shallow breath. There’s a reason Randall is an excellent editor. Not only does he have keen intuition, but he also has a delicate way of pointing out the most suffocating elephants in any room.
I clear my throat. “You know, I think I might be missing my calling as a barista,” I say, sinking into one of the chairs across from him.
He chuckles and smooths his mustache. “You might be. Though after a successful, viral takedown of Denver’s married cheaters, writing people’s names on paper cups seems like a waste of your talent.”
“But covering apet expodefinitely isn’t.”
He shrugs. “Guess if you’re fixing lattes, we’ll never know.”
I shoot him a glare.
“I’ll take mine extra hot, with a double shot of espresso and two pumps of?—”
I smack his desk. “Baristas probably get paid better.”
“Better than a staff writer at a regional weekly,” he says, calling out our mutual employer. “But maybe not a feature writer at, say...Denver Editorial.”
My lip curls. “I wouldn’t know.”
“You still could.”
He holds my gaze and I don’t look away, even as I feel my insides shriveling. “Is it time to go over this again, Randall?” I say to the smudge behind him. “The last time I tried to improve my prospects, I received an inbox full of death threats. I’m a woman of color, and I live alone. I’m not interested in putting career ahead of personal safety.”
“I’m not saying you should.”
“Great, we’re on the same page. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to sift through reader emails and write up a nice selection of copy you can print without a byline.”
“Is that really what you want?” he asks, watching me rise from the chair.
I force myself to meet his eyes, but I don’t answer.
“I’m not putting you on the assignment desk as a punishment,” he says, folding his hands. “Sometimes being onthe front lines can help. There are so many leads, it can break you out of a rut.”
“You think I’m in a rut?”
“I think you can do better than sex and dating.” He pauses, glancing at the closed door. “And unlike some of your colleagues, I know you can do better than theObserver.”
I raise my brows and lower my voice. “Careful, Randall. If your office is bugged, you’ll be working an espresso machine with me.”
He chuckles, but his eyes are serious. “Caprice, we both know you’re destined for bigger things.”
My voice shakes as I turn away. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. I like it here. The pace is good, my coworkers are tolerable. Even if the pay does suck.”
“Bring me the right story and you’ve got yourself a raise,” he says as I open the door. “It doesn’t need to be sex or dating. Your strength is human interest.”
“Sure.” I snort. “I’ll get right on that after I cover Denver’s puppies and kittens.”
CHAPTER
TWO
Lydia
My mom and sister are FINALLY on a plane back to Ohio.
YAY. Can I print T-shirts now? I survived the Baby Shower of 20__
