He smirked. “Going out with him again?”
A big fat “No” caught in my throat. I stared up at Larson a few seconds, tilting my head to the side.
“I’m not sure. Maybe. If he asks. Why all this interest in Jason?”
He huffed a quick laugh. “I’m not interested in Jason. I just thought you weren’t dating. Deb said you just went through a bad breakup or something.”
“She did, huh?” I looked around the newsroom. “Where is my big-mouthed friend and supervisor at the moment?”
“Don’t be mad at her. I was prying.”
That got my attention. I straightened, waiting wide-eyed and heart fluttering as he continued.
“Why’d you go out with that guy anyway?”
I shrugged, feeling cornered and put-on-the-spot. “Why not? He’s nice. He’s funny. He asked.”
“You’re so far out of his league you’re barely the same species.”
I blinked. “What? That’s not very nice.”
“Well, if you’re ready to date again, maybe you should go out with someone who’s a little more—”
Oh God.
“I’m not,” I blurted, standing up and grabbing my purse. “Not ready. Jason and I went out as friends, actually.”
Backing away from Larson, I moved in the general direction of the newsroom doorway. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow. Nice show tonight. Have a good night. Okay, bye.”
Babble much, Kenley?
I whirled around and did everything I could to keep myself from running toward the hallway.
“So what’s it like working with Larson Overstreet?”
My friend Mara had called during my long, slow commute home. We’d only spoken once since her wedding to her high school sweetheart two months ago. They’d taken a long-dreamed-of honeymoon to Australia and stayed a month.
“Fine, I guess.” I wasn’t eager to discuss the guy I’d just basically fled in terror of thirty minutes earlier.
“Is he as cute in person? Because he’s a total hottie on TV.”
“You just have a thing for billionaires,” I accused her.
The high school sweetheart I mentioned? During their five-year separation, Reid Mancini had founded StillYours.com, which had displaced Facebook as the world’s most-used social network.
It had helped reunite thousands of couples, maybe millions, but his sole purpose in creating it was to get Mara back.
She’d resisted him basically all the way to the altar. But when you saw them together, it was obvious they were crazy in love.
Their wedding at his estate in Newport, Rhode Island had been gorgeous, though a little painful for me, as it had come only weeks after Mark broke off our engagement.
“Hey, don’t knock a boy just because he’s got money,” Mara said. “And rich or poor, Larson is pretty tasty. He’d make an excellent himbo if it weren’t for the Ivy League degree.”
“Well, you’re not on the himbo-hunt anymore.”
While she and Reid were apart, she’d developed quite a reputation for her choice in men—himbos—gorgeous but brainless guys who never tempted her to commit. “Don’t you have your hands full now, Mrs. Mancini?”
“And then some. Reid’s determined to make up for lost time, I think—I could barely walk when I first got home from our honeymoon.”
I cringed and laughed simultaneously. Mara said the most embarrassing things—but at least you always knew she’d shoot straight with you.
“So how was Australia? Did you love it?”
“It was paradise—I’ll send pictures. But I want to hear about Larson. Am I imagining it, or do you keep changing the subject on me?”
Good thing no one can see you blush over the phone.
“No. It’s just there’s nothing to tell. He’s good at his job. He seems pretty nice. Oh—I had a date last night—his name is Jason. He works at the Toons Network.”
“That’s great. First date since Mark, right? Are you sticking with your vow of poverty?”
“Yes. He’s practically penniless, lives with his parents, wears t-shirts and Chucks to work. Perfect, in other words.”
She laughed. “Oh, Miss Lisbeth must be thrilled about him.” Her sarcasm came through loud and clear.
“Well, Momma doesn’t know. It was only a first date. He didn’t come to the house—we just went to a bar after work. Believe it or not—it reminded me of hanging out at the Rock Bottom.”
“Oh God, what a dump. I miss that place so much.”
“I know. I miss you and Heidi. Things were a lot simpler back then. And it wasn’t even so long ago.”
Mara, Heidi, and I had worked together last year at WPVG in Peachtree Valley, Georgia—first jobs for all of us—and we’d become instant friends, bonded by the mutual poverty and ridiculous working conditions of a small-market TV station.
We’d spent a lot of time in the town’s only bar, the Rock Bottom, sharing our dating horror stories with each other, though at the time, my love life had looked like a dream compared to theirs.
Now Mara was married, Heidi was engaged to an amazing guy, and I was the one living the romantic nightmare.
“Well, whenever you get a break from your big network TV job, come and stay with us. Reid and I will find you a nice, honest New England guy. But wait till it’s warmer—winter totally sucks here. And we have to plan a girls weekend in Nashville with Heidi sometime before her wedding.”
“Yes! I’ll call her. Listen, it’s starting to rain, and these drivers are crazy, so I’m gonna get off the phone. At least it’s not snow and ice, right?”
“Yeah, you Southerners are so lucky. Okay, girlie, I’ll talk to you soon. And don’t freeze out Mr. Overstreet Live, okay? I don’t know why, but I’ve got a feeling about him.”
“I’ve got a feeling about him too, and it’s called No way. Love you, love to Reid.”
I shivered as I hit the end call button. All this talk about snow and ice and freezing weather.
And Larson. I reached over and hit the button to raise the heat a few degrees and settled in to wait out the ride.
As usual, I didn’t feel any great hurry to get home, and now it was almost as uncomfortable to be at work.
What I really needed was a promotion so I could get off of Larson’s show and make enough money to move out of Momma and Daddy’s house.
Off and out—that was my new goal.
Now, how to get there?
Six
How to Get There
“How long did it take you to work your way up to senior producer?” I asked Deb the next morning.
She turned her swivel chair toward me. “Let’s see—I started here fifteen years ago as a news assistant. Then I got promoted to associate producer, spent some time field producing. Then I moved up to line producer. I’ve been a senior producer for five years now. Don’t worry kiddo. You’ll get there. You’ve got what it takes.”
“But I need to move up fast. I need a raise. What can I do?”
“You don’t want to rush it too much. There’s a lot to learn, but if you show the big guys you’re hungry, willing to do whatever it takes, believe me, you’ll get their attention and be an associate producer before too long.”