Page 73 of Sea Glass and Second Chances (Carolina Cove 3)

ChapterThirteen

Two days later, Devon stared down at the phone she held in her hand, trying and failing to hide the glee she felt at securing an interview. “I’ll be there,” she said, noting the time and date. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

“If something changes, just give me a call,” Stewart Tolliver said. “I hated to hear about you losing the anchor position due to your circumstances, but hopefully we can get you back on the air soon.”

“That sounds wonderful. Have a good day,” she said, returning the man’s goodbye before ending the call.

She flopped back in her father’s office chair, legs sprawled, arms hanging over the arms and head back as she celebrated the breakthrough.

Finally.

After cold-calling half of New York because she wasn’t quite big enough to have an agent, she’d finally secured a face-to-face.

Score one for the small-town girl, she mused.

Her phone began vibrating, and she pressed a finger to answer on speaker. “Devon Teeks.”

“Devon, it’s been a long time,” an oddly familiar voice said.

“I’m sorry, who is this?”

“Georgette Love, from General Broadcasting.”

“Georgette! Oh, my goodness, it’s so good to hear from you. How are you?” she asked, remembering the woman from ten years ago when she’d worked at the local network.

“I’m doing great. But I’d be doing a lot better if I could lure a certain someone back home.”

Devon frowned and sat back in the chair once more. “Pardon?”

“Girl, you know how small our journalistic world is. Word gets around.”

She grimaced at the statement. “I suppose it does.”

“Well, since you’re here and that other job fell through, how about you come work for me?”

Completely flummoxed, Devon didn’t know what to say. “I’m not… I live in New York now, Georgette.”

“Come on, a coastal Carolinian in that concrete jungle?”

“It’s busy and chaotic,” she said, “but I like it.”

“I’m offering you your own show. All the bells and whistles. You’d be a big fish in small pond rather than just another in the rat race.”

Devon bit her lower lip and stayed quiet, the lure more than she could comprehend.

“Perhaps we could go a little higher on pay,” Georgette said, her tone coaxing. “Match what you were making in the big city?”

“You don’t know what I make.”

“I have a good guess. And I’m willing. Are you?”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes, and it’s all yours.”

“Georgette, I’m practically engaged to a New Yorker.”

“Will you at least think about it?”

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