Page 7 of No More Heartbreakers

“I’ll behappyto help him get acclimated,” Mara volunteered.

Janet closed the video file, erasing God’s-gift-to-sports-and-women from her screen. “You can’t date him, Mara. You know the rule.”

Our station owner, Mr. Aubrey, was an eccentric man who had strict ideas about “conduct unbecoming a WPVG employee,” and he hadlotsof rules.

We weren’t allowed to curse in public, drive fast in the news cars, or wear short skirts. And we weren’t allowed to date co-workers.

Mara huffed an irritated breath. “Right. Like Mr. Aubrey is going to come check my bed every night and see who’s there.”

I couldn’t stifle a gasp. Mara was the bluntest person I’d ever known. She’d grown up in Rhode Island and always said exactly what she meant, which was a novelty in my experience.

It was also kind of refreshing. She could be shocking, but I loved her.

As for Mara, she found the unwritten Southern rule of softened and sugar-sprinkled speech rather confusing. She was always encouraging me tojust say it, Heidi.

“I don’t know, girls,” Janet said. “Let’s not push it. We’re talking about Mr. Aubrey here. I wouldn’t put anything past him.”

We laughed and turned to leave the room, but Janet said, “Heidi, Kenley, would you mind staying a few minutes?”

We took seats opposite her desk. She smiled.

“Heidi, I’m sure Kenley has already shared her news with you?”

“Um, actually, no. Not yet.”

“I’m leaving—moving back to Atlanta,” Kenley blurted. “I gave my notice today. I’ve been here for two years, and Mark’s had it with the long-distance dating thing. I would have told you earlier, but we just decided it last night, and I haven’t seen you.”

I was still blinking and trying to process that news when Janet dropped the next bombshell.

“Of course we’re sad to see her go, but the news must go on. I’d like for you to take over on the weekend desk, if you’re interested in anchoring.”

Now I was breathless for a whole new reason. “You would? I mean… thank you. Yes. I’d be interested.”

“Great. Of course, your schedule will change. And I’ll email you a memo regarding the salary increase. We’ll need you to start tomorrow if that’s okay.”

She turned to Kenley. “Would you be able to come in tomorrow for a bit and help Heidi get up to speed on the weekend anchor duties?”

She bit her lip and wrinkled her nose in an unsuccessful effort to suppress a huge grin. “Yes, sure. I mean, of course I will.”

Unable to restrain her excitement any longer, she reached over and squeezed my hand. “You’re going to be great. This is all working out so great!”

I nodded and squeezed her hand back, not sure if my death grip was the result of gratitude or terror.

* * *

Mara, Kenley, and I made plans to meet in a couple hours at the Rock Bottom, which was sadly the best place to celebrate in Peachtree Valley.

We had to drive an hour to Augusta or Athens to even watch a movie or find any decent shopping.

Not that any of us could afford to shop much. TV news reporting was one of the few professions where a college degree would get you a starting salary that easily qualified you for food stamps.

People always assumed because you worked on TV you made a lot of money. Maybe that was true after you’d paid your dues and clawed your way up to a large market, but not at this level.

And there were so many applicants for every low-paying on-air job in every crappy little market, that wasn’t likely to change anytime soon.

Mara and I were both nearing the end of our contracts, each of us hired almost a year ago right out of college. Kenley had been here a year longer but probably wasn’t making much more than we were.

At least we were all in it together, thus our regular excursions to the Rock Bottom to drown our collective sorrow. There was always money for cheap beer.

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