"That's why she left." Country hadn't meant to say it out loud. Polk looked up. "She knew I wouldn't." Country gave Lady one last stroke, then stalked out of the stall toward the workbench.
"Gentry—" Polk stopped short when Country turned to look at him. He didn't have to say it. Country knew what he was thinking the second he saw his brother’s face. Maybe she made the right choice.
Country's stomach swooped like he'd just thrown himself off the edge of a cliff. He clutched at the buttons of his shirt, then dropped his brush on the bench and strode out of the barn.
Chapter Twenty-One
Gentry showed up early to GCBN on Saturday night. After talking with Polk, he'd gone back to his house and tried to call Jenna. She didn't answer, so he'd sent her a single text message.
Can we talk?
Despite checking his phone every ten minutes for twenty-four hours, he hadn't been successful in forcing a response to that either. The whole thing pissed him off. He understood he'd walked away from her at the bonfire. That was a dick move, but to be fair, it was in direct response to her dick move thirteen years earlier. Maybe he could understand her cutting him out in their twenties, but they were real adults at this point. They had life experience, real jobs and houses, budgets and voting records. Ignoring someone's calls was no longer age-appropriate behaviour.
When Jenna hadn't been in her office, he'd gone to the studio where he'd made intolerable small talk with Liam and Tasha, then was forced into singing Happy Birthday to John's assistant and eating a piece of chocolate cake coated in at least five centimetres of frosting that was too fluffy to be made with real butter. It was birthday blasphemy, and all he wanted to do was complain about it to Jenna.
By the time he'd finished in hair and makeup, Country was beginning to panic. Where the hell was she? When he and Kessler walked back into the studio, Country waited until he could successfully pull off a confused slash mildly intrigued expression, then asked, "Where's McAllister tonight?"
Glen sighed and snatched the papers from the desk. "Sick. You and I are venturing out of the nest on our own wings tonight."
"That's too bad. No John?" Country kept a straight face even though sweat was already forming on his brow. Sick. How long had she been sick? Had it been the last few days? Over Christmas? Was that why he hadn't heard from her?
Glen shook his head. "No, John will be here. Probably not right at the beginning, though. Liam and Owen will keep us on track."
Country nodded and took a look at his notes. Owen. That was the guy Jenna was training. John Allen's nephew. There was no way Jenna would've missed this if it meant he was going to take the pilot seat, even if she did dread seeing him. Curiosity clawed at the back of his throat until he finally asked, "Is she doing okay? McAllister?"
Glen shrugged. "Honestly, that woman is impossible to read. One day she's sending messages like a postal worker, and the next . . ."
Country blinked. "I meant since she's sick."
"Oh!" Glen laughed out loud. "I have no idea. The writing team had everything they needed, so I assume she's fine."
Country looked down and realized he'd crumpled the left side of his paper stack. "Don't you think someone should've checked in on her?"
"I think John's assistant?—"
"You've worked here with her for what, three years?" Country turned in his seat, anger building under his skin. Glen frowned, but Country didn't give him a chance to answer. "I wonder if you would've been more successful catching her attention if you gave a damn about anything besides what she could do for you."
Glen chuckled, but Country wasn't going to pretend this was anything close to their on-air banter. The lights grew brighter, but Country ignored it.
"Do you know anyone at this network that works as hard as Jenna?"
"Okay, I don't know what?—"
"And yet you sit here not giving a shit that John is hiring some Leonard Hofstadter lookalike to take her job? You don't call to make sure she's okay when she?—"
"Thirty seconds!" Owen called from behind the camera.
Country cursed under his breath as Glen leaned in and hissed, "That's not fair. I help Jenna whenever I can. She's independent. I don't want to be patronizing."
"That's rich."
Glen's shiny face contorted just as Owen counted them down from five. He straightened and flubbed out his lips, then plastered a wide smile on his face. "Good evening hockey fans, and welcome to Hockey Evening in Canada . . ."
Country needled Glen more than usual in the first segment and took great pleasure in the fact that it resulted in Glen uttering, "I don't hate babies, I was simply attempting to make an incontinence metaphor."
He was even more pleased with his response of, "Seems like it was a shit comparison, Glen." Country didn't know if it was a good thing that Liam stormed out of the booth and slammed two cups of coffee the second they flipped to the regional broadcasts. He went straight to the bathroom during the break and sent a text to their team chat.
Curtis and Ryan, can one of you send a message to Anne, Tina, or Melissa and ask about Jenna?
