The Last Guy Page 36
“I wish I knew how to quit you,” I quote from Brokeback Mountain.
Trent grabs his chest. “Be still my heart. I love Jake Gyllenhall.”
“Yes! I pick that one!” Mom takes Dad by the arm and steers him toward the screening area. “You’ll love it.” She pats his hand. “Probably. It has cowboys.”
Trent and I fall in line behind them.
“This is so fucking weird,” I say to Trent, watching them enter the darkened theatre and head for seats in the middle.
“I’m bringing a date next time. I wanna see how he handles that,” is his reply as we take our seats next to Mom.
I watch the promo for the coming attractions and my mind drifts to Stone . . . and babies . . . and surprisingly I don’t have a panic attack. I think about my dad and wonder if it’s possible for him to change.
Life is strange and unpredictable.
Who the fuck knows what tomorrow will bring?
It’s ten o’clock Monday morning, and I’m on fire to see Stone. I dreamed about her hula dancing on my cock and woke up with a raging hard-on. It’s time for our monthly meeting with the board, and as I’m headed to the lobby elevator, Marv enters from the opposite entrance. He hoofs it to wait beside me in front of the shiny silver doors.
“Morning,” I murmur, looking down at him. He’s at least a foot shorter than me, and I enjoy the shit out of it.
“Cade.” He nods with a spaced-out expression, seeming lost in thought.
Once the passengers exit, we slip inside the elevator. I push the button just as I hear Stone’s voice.
“Hold it, please! I’m coming!”
I’d heard those words a few times this weekend. I grin and hit the hold button.
She shows up at the entrance and her eyes crash into mine. She’s fucking gorgeous in three-inch heels, a tight red skirt and a soft cream sweater that hugs those luscious curves. I want to eat her up. She dips her chin, a blush rising up her cheeks. I love that she’s got a shy streak in her.
Her eyes scoot to my companion and she flinches. “Oh! Marv! I didn’t see you there. Good morning! How was your weekend? Mine was great. Awesome! So, so awesome!” She throws her hands up in exclamation.
I grin.
He scowls.
She backs away.
“Are you getting on or what, Rebecca?” he asks in an exasperated tone.
I put my hand out to hold the door open. “Well?”
She shakes her head. “No, no, that’s okay. I-I forgot something in the car. Bye!”
And she’s gone, practically running away from the elevator.
I sigh, my mind dancing back to our elevator interlude this weekend.
“What are you smiling at?” Marv asks as the door swishes shut.
“Just a beautiful day, Marv.”
He grunts. “I have nothing to smile about. I’m still getting complaint emails about Rebecca and that damn monkey. She needs to be in production.”
I stiffen, anger bubbling up. “If anything, it may have garnered us more viewers—like those eighteen to twenty-five-year-old males you’re so worried about. Plus, it was an accident.”
He harrumphs. “Nothing with her is an accident. She probably planned it—”
I cut him off. “She didn’t, and you know that. You’re being obtuse and frankly unprofessional. I don’t wish to discuss Stone with you.” My tone is haughty and domineering, and I don’t give a fuck.
“Wish or not, I’m telling you now. I have the final say in who gets that anchor job, and it won’t be her.” A smug expression is on his thin face.
“Who then?” I ask as a muscle ticks in my jaw.
He shrugs and brushes lint off his navy sport coat. “Savannah. She’s young and malleable . . . damn perfect.”
“So you’ve decided for sure?” My tone is angry. I can’t help it.
He shoots me a steely look. “Didn’t think you cared about my department, Cade? Change of heart? You can help me present it to the board.”
My mouth tightens. “I’m not helping you present anything. Savannah doesn’t have the brains to lead the news. She can’t even find Russia on the map.”
His gaze hardens. “That’s for the board to decide, based on my recommendation.” The elevator door swishes open and we exit. He sends me a side-eye. “Trust me, Savannah is going to send our ratings sky high.”
My hands clench and I resist the urge to shove him up against the wall.
I think about what he just said, what he’s about to recommend to the board, and my stomach drops. This is going to crush Stone.
Rebecca
KEVIN’S LOUD SLURP fills the van, and I’m too excited to care if he gets diabetes. We’re headed to another live event, this time covering the mayor’s speech and press conference on the GreenStreet Grabber—or Grabbers, depending on if there’s more than one. It’s my golden shot at serious reporter redemption, and I couldn’t be happier.
Vicky came through for me, giving me a sly thumbs-up when I arrived in the newsroom wearing my red pencil skirt and a cream short-sleeved sweater. No wardrobe malfunctions today!
Marv’s acting way grumpier than normal, and I just know he’d planned to give this assignment to Savannah. Vicky cut him off at the pass, saying she needed someone who could think on her feet, and Savannah doesn’t have the gravity for a story like this.
Of course, gravity has not been my friend lately. Still, I got the gig, and I won’t even be bothered by Marv’s parting jab about keeping my clothes on. Bastard.
The mention of taking my clothes off sends my mind straight to Cade. I’d spent an hour last night filling Chassy in on all the details about the disastrous Hookup4Luv date—which I guess turned out to be a dream come true for Fantasy Phil . . . and me. Anyway, after we’d squealed and lay on the couch discussing all the details, the pros and cons of dating a co-worker, I’d floated to my room to sleep.
A text from Cade was waiting on my phone: Sleep well, beautiful. I’ll be looking for a chance to get you alone tomorrow.
It sent a charge straight to my hoo-hoo and made me giggle like a teenager before I slipped beneath the sheets to drift away on fantasies of tomorrow.
We’d almost had our chance, but Marv had cock-blocked us in the elevator. I’d looked as dumb as Savannah trying to back out of that near-mess. I’m sure the elevator would have burst into flames if I’d ridden up beside Cade.
I’d chosen this sweater because it hugs my curves in all the right places. I could see the appreciation in Cade’s eyes, and I could just imagine his large hands starting at the hem of my red skirt, sliding lightly up the sensitive skin of my thighs to my—
“Why is your face all red?” Kevin’s obnoxious voice pops my daydream like a soap bubble.
“It’s hot in here. Is it hot in here to you?” I reach forward and press the button to turn off the heater in the van.
“It’s fifty degrees outside!”
“You’re drinking a slushie. It’s hot in the sun.”
Pressing my hands to my face, I banish the flush from daydreaming about my sexy lover.
My luvah . . .
Stop it, Rebecca. I have to be professional. This is my last shot at proving I’m the most worthy reporter for that anchor seat. Examining the printout, I study the plan for the mayor’s speech. Every news station will have a team at the event, even cable. These muggings have the entire downtown area on alert, and of course, the business community is up in arms.