“Are you saying I’ve gained weight?”
“You used to like grass.”
Jenna’s jaw dropped. The first and only time she’d smoked weed had been with Country, and she’d felt guilty for months. Her mother had grounded her from the car for the entire summer. As a seventeen-year-old. Ironic that it was the same woman who smoked at least two joints a day during her cancer treatment.
The corner of Country’s mouth lifted, and Jenna strode toward the door, looking right past him. She wasn’t going to entertain that comment. “It’s called breathing. Meditation. It’s good after a long day.”
“You know what else I’ve heard takes the edge off?—”
“Studio’s this way!” Jenna didn’t look back to make sure he was following her. What was that? Was he flirting with her?
She was suddenly self-conscious in her four-inch pumps. She’d never worn heels when she’d been with Gentry, but ever since joining the broadcasting world, her small frame hadn’t done her any favours. She’d started wearing lipstick, choosing outfits that accentuated her curves—anything that would remind the men in the office that she was a woman and not a high-school intern. Today she’d opted for pleated charcoal slacks and a camel sweater that hugged like a second skin.
Jenna led Country through the maze of hallways and through the studio door. The drab hallway with its scuffed rubber baseboards and old paint gave way to a cavernous space filled with equipment, power cords, electric hum, and the golden glow of lights centred on the broadcast desk.
Country's eyes widened, taking in the rows of cameras and the looming teleprompter screens. “It’s smaller than I thought.”
“That’s what she said.” Jenna snapped her mouth shut. Why had she said that? She never made crude jokes at work even though she thought them regularly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean?—”
Gentry’s face cracked, and he laughed out loud. “Doesn’t the camera make everything look bigger?”
Jenna’s skin buzzed as she fought to keep the grin off her face. That voice. His amusement was contagious. “This conversation is not permission to send me a dick pic,” she hissed as she wound between the camera and light stands, heading toward the control booth before she could over-analyze that comment.
Inside, two figures huddled over a control panel. Jenna pushed the door open but didn’t enter. Based on the fact that in less than five minutes with him she’d slipped back into college Jenna’s skin, the last thing she needed was Country squeezing into a tight space next to her. "This is Liam—our audio and captions wizard."
Liam’s gaunt frame and messy topknot gave him a dishevelled maestro look. He pulled his headphones off his right ear and gave Country a small wave.
“And that's Tasha, queen of graphics.”
Tasha swivelled in her chair, her pixie cut a vibrant shade of teal against her ebony skin. “I like that nickname.”
Jenna grinned. “I’ll propose that John gets you a nameplate.”
"You’re Country?” Tasha looked Gentry up and down, then nodded toward the desk. “Let's show you around.” She strode past them both and led the way to the sleek crescent of polished wood. "This will be your perch Saturday night." She patted the high-backed leather chair as if introducing him to a temperamental thoroughbred.
Country nodded as Liam joined them on the stage. Jenna was happy to stay behind the lights and catch her breath. Seeing Gentry living and breathing in front of her made her head feel like she’d just taken an Ambien and at any moment, she’d wake from this strange fantasy.
Because that was exactly what this was. A dream she’d had often over the years. They were less frequent now, but they’d never stopped completely. She’d wake soaked in sweat with the sound of his breath in her ear so vivid, she nearly believed when she reached out, her fingers would meet skin.
“First thing,” Liam pointed to a small red light atop one of the cameras, "when this baby's lit, you're live. No cussing, no scratching, just smiling.”
Good luck with that, Jenna quipped internally.
Country grunted. “John said we’re on a delay.”
“We are, but the less cowboy shit, the better.”
Country looked for Jenna over Liam’s shoulder and winced at the bright lights.
Jenna sighed. “John knows who he hired, Liam. You should probably slam a Bang or Red Bull before we go live Saturday.”
Liam muttered something unintelligible under his breath as Tasha jumped in. "Secondly, your talking points will appear on the prompter here." She tapped the glass screen. "Based on that interaction, I’m not going to waste time telling you to stay on script. But ya know, it’s always nice if you stay on script.”
“Right.” Country flashed a smile that said I know exactly what I can get away with. Jenna’s knees buckled. I’ll make it up to you . . .
Liam pulled something from his pocket. “You've got an earpiece for communication with us. If there's a hitch, we'll guide you through.”
Country nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing. He ran a hand through his hair, and Jenna’s hands tingled. He was nervous. Since she’d met Gentry in the hall, he’d been seamless. Smooth. Confident. But it was that flicker of vulnerability that sent her heart spinning like a tire swing.
