Unravel Me (13 page)

“Hey, Paxton,” I called out when he was closer. “Have you ever been here before?”

“To this park? No.” He stood in front of us, scanning the crowd.

“Walk with us,” Stephanie offered. “We promise not to do anything too embarrassing.”

Oh my goodness. He smiled.
I don’t think I’ve seen him smile since the night we all went to the benefit in Glasgow
.

“Very well.” He fell into step with us, listening to our conversation while keeping a watchful eye on our surroundings.

“How long have you worked for Alastair’s family?” I asked.

“Fifteen years.”

“Do you like working for them?”

“I have no complaints.”

“Does he ever give you a day off?” Stephanie chimed in. I elbowed her in the side and gave her a look. “Ow. Hey, it’s a valid question.”

Paxton seemed amused. “I get to enjoy a holiday now and then when I’m not scheduled to be in the States.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Was that sarcasm, Paxton?”

“Yes it was, Miss Meyers. Any more questions from the press corps?”

“Ooh,” Stephanie’s eyes glittered with enthusiasm. “Someone’s snarky. I like it.”

We stopped next to my car as he chuckled to himself.

“I do have one more question,” I said.

“Fire away.”

“Will you please stop calling me Miss Meyers? I think we’ve reached a point in our relationship where you can call me Lia.”

Standing with his hands clasped behind his back, he thought about my request for a few seconds. “I suppose that will be alright. Drive safely, Lia. I’ll be watching.” He gave me a stern look before walking to the SUV. I came very close to mock saluting him. Stephanie got in the car and laughed most of the way back to her condominium.

“That man is a hoot. You just know there’s a big personality hidden beneath that damn suit.” She paused and laughed again. “I’m a poet and didn’t even know it!”

I groaned. “Stop it. See what happens when you have too much wine? You think you’re Tina Fey.”

“Then you must be my Amy Poehler. Although I always thought we were more Rachel and Monica. You know, from Friends?” She launched into the show’s theme song. By the time I pulled up to the curb in front of her condo she’d sung the song half a dozen times.

“Alright TV Tunes, get out,” I teased.

“You’ll miss me when I’m gone,” she chirped, climbing out of the car. “Good night, my fair Lia. May your news days be filled with riveting stories.” She did a little dance up the walkway while singing another song. I shook my head, filled with adoration and love for the greatest friend a person could ever want.

CHAPTER TEN

“And this is where we do the weather.” Vance Winters spread his arms in a grand gesture. The evening anchor was giving my parents a tour of the newsroom during some down time on Tuesday afternoon. My dad walked over to the back wall where a long desk held several computer monitors. Weather graphics, maps, projections and all types of forecasting information flashed on the screens.

“It looks so involved,” my mom marveled. “All this just to say it’s going to be sunny and hot?”

“Don’t let Charlie hear you say that,” Vance laughed. “It’s an exact science with not so exact results at times. Mother Nature is a fickle beast.”

They strolled through the set, mindful not trip over the camera cables.

“This is pretty much it,” I said. “You’ve seen the newsroom, green room, control room and weather center. Hours of excitement, isn’t it?”

“Sure is,” my dad said, putting an arm around my shoulders. “And you’re in charge of all this?”

I laughed. “Not quite. I just try to keep these yahoos on time when we’re on the air.” I looked pointedly at Vance. “Easier said than done.”

“You don’t like my banter with Cynthia?”

“I love it. I just need you two to wrap it up and toss to the break the first time you hear me in your ears.”

“And that’s why this little spitfire is my favorite producer.” Cynthia chimed in, walking towards us. “You must be Lia’s parents. It’s so nice to meet you.”

Cynthia had the ability to talk without ever coming up for air. She shared about six stories in the two minutes it took all of us to walk back to my desk. Sydney popped up off her chair to say a quick hello before dashing to the edit suites. Tyler waved from the assignment desk, cradling a phone at his ear. And Wesley? Well, he stared at his monitor a bit too intently for anyone to risk interrupting him.

“Everyone seems so busy. We’re not keeping you from anything important, are we Lia?”

“No, mom. We just like to make it look like we have more work than we actually do,” I smiled. “Especially when there are visitors.”

“Thanks for showing us around, kiddo. Get back to work.” My dad hugged me and thanked Vance and Cynthia for taking time out of their day to give them a tour. I escorted them to the main lobby and said my goodbyes. They were off to Miami for a couple days before flying back to Connecticut.

I wasn’t settled at my desk for more than five minutes when the phone rang.

“Lia Meyers.”

“Lia, it’s Bruce. Can you come to my office real quick?”

“Sure.”

Tyler fell into step with me as I walked across the set. “Where are you off to?”

“Popping into Bruce’s office for a second.”

“Good times. Hey, what time is your friend’s party on Friday?”

“It starts at eight but you can show up whenever. We have the VIP lounge reserved for the entire night so we’ll just be hanging out there.”

“Cool.”

We went our separate ways at the end of the hallway. When I walked into Bruce’s office the atmosphere felt amiss, almost as though a dark cloud hovered just below the harsh fluorescent lights. He tapped a pen on the desk, staring into the computer monitor.

“Sorry to drag you in here like this, Lia.” He gestured for me to have a seat. “There’s a problem with one of the stories we aired last week. The one about the murder investigation in Lakeland?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“The way it was worded. The script referred to the suspect as the murderer, not the alleged murderer. His attorney called and was not pleased that we apparently tried and convicted his client already. He’s threatening to sue for slander. I’ve already said we’ll do an on-air apology but he’s not having any of it.” The tapping of the pen increased. “What makes it worse is the story aired that way during your show and then again on the morning show.”

I broke into a cold sweat. “I don’t usually miss something that important.”

“I know you don’t. Neither does Jeanie. Unfortunately, this isn’t going away. Do you remember who wrote it?”

“It was either Rene or Gwen.”

“Okay.” He wrote something down in a notebook. “I’ll talk to them. Our legal team is being briefed on the situation. You may be called in again to give your side to the story. Don’t worry. You didn’t do anything malicious or intend for this to happen. Neither did the writers. In the meantime, I need you to have clean, tight shows with no errors in the writing. I’ll give final approval on all packages and scripts of this nature until further notice. Thanks, Lia.”

For the rest of my shift I was hyperaware of everything I read. It got to the point where I second-guessed every word that was written. I had a feeling I’d missed that mistake in the story because I’d been so distracted with my own personal crap. It made me angry. I wasn’t willing to risk my career or the integrity of the station because I was wrapped up in ridiculous drama.

Cynthia and Vance were in rare form as well. They harped on anything in the scripts that felt abnormal. For a fleeting moment I pitied Jeanie. She looked frazzled and stressed trying to make sure all the stories were factually correct and worded properly.
Then again, if she didn’t spend so much time online shopping, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place
.

“Lia,” she huffed, making a beeline to my desk. “You really need to make sure this doesn’t happen again. It’s bad enough we were late with a breaking story because of you last month. This pattern of irresponsibility won’t go unnoticed.”

Indignation boiled through my veins.
How dare she throw something back in my face that wasn’t even my fault
?

“If you’d like to have this conversation, there’s an empty conference room,” I seethed.

“No, we don’t need to have this conversation. Get your act together.”

“Or what? You’ll throw me under the bus for something else?”

Her face turned red as a tomato. “Your blasé attitude needs adjusting. I’m not going to look bad because you can’t do your job.”

The shrill tone of her voice echoed through the newsroom. Everyone carried on with their work but sat up a little straighter and perked their ears so as not miss anything. These theatrics didn’t intimidate me at all. If anything, they made her look petty and small in front of the staff. We all had at least one knife in our backs thanks to Jeanie’s own incompetence and penchant for blaming anyone but herself.

I bit the inside of my lip to keep from retaliating. Sinking to her level of immaturity wasn’t something I planned to do.

“Jeanie,” Gus yelled from the assignment desk. “Vanessa is on the phone. She wants to read her package script you.”

My executive producer grimaced, glared at me one last time and went back to her desk. The day’s unscheduled middleweight fight may have concluded for now but I was heated. I ground my teeth so hard I feared I might break them.

“Don’t let her get to you.” Sydney’s soft voice floated through my consciousness. “We all know final approval rests with her and she missed it.”

“I don’t care about that,” I grumbled. “I’m just all set with everything right now.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie. If you need to vent or talk, let me know.”

Half smiling, I thanked her. Mercifully, the afternoon passed quickly and I escaped the newsroom without any additional unpleasantness. What I wanted most was to run but the humidity was so suffocating I could barely breathe. I kept a spare gym bag in the trunk of my car so I decided to head straight for the gym.

I managed to hop onto the last free elliptical. Churning my legs at what felt like warp speed, I pushed myself to the limit. Sweat poured off me in rivers even though I didn’t set any resistance on the machine. It whirred beneath my feet, carrying me nowhere but taking me away from all the frustration of the past few days. I made it a point not to dwell on Alastair’s departure and subsequent silence. I wasn’t the type of girl who was clingy or needed to know what he did every second of the day. I usually mocked people like that. But here I was, desperate to know why he’d left and if he was ever coming back.

I longed for a time when we could just be and not have obstacles thrown in our direction at every turn. Maybe this wasn’t meant to last. Maybe our relationship started too fast and we were clinging to one another because we didn’t know what else to do. I wasn’t even looking for this. My heart and soul had been sideswiped when he walked into my life.

A cold blast of air conditioning swept over my glistening skin forcing me to abandon my current thought process and come back to the present. Men and women of various shapes and sizes quietly worked out around me, each lost in their own private world. The clanging thud of weights and steady thumping of feet pounding on treadmills saturated the room. My quad muscles screamed for mercy, burning under my skin. Intent on going until I dropped, I ignored their impassioned pleas and pushed harder.

Turning to my jackass ex was the worst thing I could have done. I knew it from the start. I should have hung up on him when he called about the alleged exclusive interview. What a load of crap that turned out to be. All he did was trick me into believing that he wanted to change. I forced my legs to move faster.
Idiot. I’m smarter than this. What the hell was I thinking
?

Thick drops of perspiration landed in splotches on the digital monitor. A weird wheezing sound caught my attention. I looked around to see who was having trouble breathing.
Oh Jesus. It’s me
.

I slowed my pace, suddenly aware of how fatigued I’d become. I had zero strength left in my arms or legs. Fitting, seeing as how I had zero strength left when it came to my personal life. I grasped the metal handles to check my heart rate. It was well over one-hundred-seventy.
Great. I’ll probably give myself a heart attack if I continue
. I spent about five minutes cooling down so I wouldn’t collapse walking back to my car. I didn’t even bother showering at the gym. I just wanted to get home and put this day to bed.

Weaving through traffic proved relaxing in the oddest way. I turned up the radio and sang along with every song, even ones I didn’t like. By the time I pulled into my complex and parked, I felt a little better. Gross and sweaty, my only goal was to take a long, hot bubble bath. I walked into my apartment, dropping the gym bag in the living room. It was dark. I’d forgotten to leave the light on over the stove in the kitchen. The hairs on my arms stood up as I passed through the room. Glancing around quickly, I saw nothing but lumpy shadows. A funny rustling sensation tickled through my stomach. Apparently my anxiety was still hanging around. I turned on the stove light and went back to the living room, flipping on another light.

Stopping short, I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep from yelling. Sprawled out on my oversized couch was Alastair. He was fast asleep, his head bent at an uncomfortable angle into the cushion with an arm flung behind it. The other rested on his stomach. The gray hoodie he wore was unzipped and open, revealing a plain white t-shirt. One of his long denim-clad legs dangled over the edge of the couch. I stared at him for what felt like ages, watching his chest rise and fall in deep, measured breaths.

I didn’t know if I should be relieved or annoyed. He had disappeared for two days without saying a word. Stirring gently, a low moan vibrated in his throat. The sound quickened my pulse. The closer he came to waking up, the faster my body reacted to his close proximity. We were even breathing in unison. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he sat up slowly. Pieces of his hair stuck out in every direction. Bleary, exhausted emerald eyes met mine. He looked so worn out I forgot that I was supposed to be mad at him.