Chapter Eight
Silence filled the office as Mira signed off from the story on the fire. By far, their coverage had been superior to every other station in the area. Everyone else focused on the technical details of the fire, with only sound bites from the chief. But Mira had the chief, neighbors, and the kicker, the mysterious fireman who wanted the public to know to be on the lookout.
It had everything. Emotions. Facts. And the thing people loved more than anything, intrigue. Without a doubt, the rest of the reporters on scene would be scrambling to catch up to them for the next several days.
Michelle clicked the bank of TVs off in her office, quiet for so long that Charlotte began to get nervous. Had she misjudged the situation? Should they have held off on talking to Trey? The one time she had stepped outside of her comfort zone and not only arranged for something unexpected for her reporter, but put someone she was beginning to care a great deal for on the line, and of course it would all come back to bite her in the ass.
Her lungs tightened, head spinning with the knowledge that she had failed not only herself but also Trey and Mira. Heck, the community. She needed to put her head between her knees, practice her deep breathing exercises. Get out of the small office. She’d been at the station for almost twenty-four hours, not wanting to leave before the story aired, but now the exhaustion bore down on her like an avalanche of emotions.
“Fuck yes!” Michelle’s exuberant voice echoed in her tiny office. She rounded the desk making it to the door in two giant steps and burst out into the newsroom. Producers, reporters, interns all froze to look up at their leader. “That is how it is fucking done people! Not only did we have more information, we had more real people. We told their stories. Not just repeated what the authorities told us. We took risks. And they are going to pay off not only in ratings and page reads, but at Emmy time as well.”
The clapping blasted through the door, and Charlotte sat, stunned. The panic which had threatened to suffocate her just moments ago still tried to hold its nasty grip on her throat. In its place, something she’d never experienced before grew. Pride. Slowly, the reality came through. She hadn’t failed. They’d done well. Maybe she could actually do this.
After whipping the newsroom into a frenzy, Michelle swept back into the office, sitting across from Charlotte. “I need you to run the desk. This right here, today, proves that not only can you do the job I need you to do, you can excel at it. And I will support you in whatever way you need. Please, think about it.”
Charlotte could only nod, numbness creeping up her fingers and arms as the adrenaline and fear ebbed away. In contrast, her heart, hell her entire chest, swelled to the point she feared she’d float away from the shear overwhelming joy at having Michelle and the entire crew praising her work.
“Now, you have more than put in your time for today. Go home. Get some sleep. Take tomorrow off. I’ll work your shift.” Michelle stood. She wasn’t showing yet, but Charlotte knew the early days of her pregnancy must be taking their toll.
Shaking herself out of her emotionally confused state, Charlotte stood, shaking her head vehemently. “No, you can’t do a night shift. You’re pregnant.”
Michelle scoffed, rounding the desk to her chair. “It’s fine. I stay up puking all night anyway. Turns out morning sickness can strike at all hours. I’ll just come in late tomorrow, and I can guarantee you, Russ will come in with me and sit here trying to get me to give him a quickie in my office all night.”
Charlotte twisted her fingers together. She almost never took her allotted personal days. Only if she was truly sick and one holiday a year to celebrate with her parents. But she had to admit, it would be nice to have a night off.
Michelle smirked a little bit. A look Charlotte had learned to dread. It meant she had something up her sleeve. “You deserve a night off. Do not come in tomorrow. I will have IT lock you out of the system if you do.”
Charlotte blew out a laugh, but nodded in agreement. “I guess it would be nice to spend an entire day in my pajamas reading.”
“Plus, you can go to bed at a normal time, see how the rest of us live.” Michelle smiled, nodding to the door. “Okay, get out of here. Good job today. Seriously, I’m proud of you.”
The swelling of her heart doubled, along with a warm glow that filled Charlotte’s chest, spilling over until she didn’t know what to do with herself and tears burned at the corner of her eyes. Quickly, she stood and made her way to her desk. With the barest nod at Annabelle, Charlotte gathered her things and hurried out to her car. She could feel the long day catching up with her and knew, at any moment, the dam on her emotions could burst. When that happened, she wanted to be in the comfort and safety of her own bed.
The short drive to her apartment helped her to calm down a little, but as soon as she hit her bed, and Weezey curled up beside her, she broke down. The tears ran hot down her cheeks, and she hiccupped into the soft orange fur of her beloved cat. She couldn’t even be sure why she was crying. It had been a good day by all accounts. The team kicked ass, they beat the competition, and she had a date to plan with Trey. So why could she not stop crying?
For most of her life, Charlotte hid her emotions. Her father had been too busy managing the wild mood swings of her mother, the same woman who had trouble seeing beyond her own nose. So, Charlotte had learned to bottle it all up, to stay quiet and out of the way. But she didn’t know how to cap this flow of emotions.
Doing something she almost never resorted to, Charlotte pulled the cell phone from her pocket and dialed Kym’s number. The tattoo artist might be the closest thing Charlotte had to a best friend, but they weren’t really on calling terms. Mostly they chatted online, and occasionally texted. There was only one other time they had talked on the phone, and that had been when Kym was in the middle of a panic attack.
“Charlotte, what’s wrong?” The buzz of machines in the background faded as her friend obviously walked someplace more private.
“I’m sorry. Are you in the middle of session right now? I can call back.” No matter how hard she fought to hold it together, Charlotte knew her voice gave away the torrent of emotions.
“The guy I’m working on was on the verge of passing out anyway. He’s putting his head between his knees and drinking water now. I have time to talk. Now spill. Why the tears?”
Before she could overthink it anymore, Charlotte began spilling everything to Kym. Trey, the story, the promotion offer, the impending girls night with Mira and Bekah. It all came out in an avalanche of words. It might have been the most Charlotte had ever spoke in one sitting. The tears dried up as she got it all out, but the unfamiliar emotions still roiled in her belly, threatening to make an appearance at any moment. Knowing she was capable of a break in her stoic hold on her feelings made panic rise in her belly.
How many times had she watched her mother go off on a crying jag, threatening to kill herself, insisting no one loved her? Countless. And each time her father would beg and plead for her mom to believe how much they both loved her. Then he would whisk her away to some exclusive spa where she would recover and get back on her meds. Often, he would go with and leave Charlotte with a neighbor, or alone when she got older.
“Okay. That is a lot happening at once. I get why you feel overwhelmed.” Kym’s calm, smooth voice helped to lower Charlotte’s heart rate a little more. “But, honey, these are all good things. You need to just approach each one at a time. Don’t think about how it is all happening at once. They are all isolated opportunities. So, what is the one thing you are most worried about?”
“The promotion. I mean, it is a lot more money, but also so much responsibility. I would be in charge of the assignments for every single reporter and photographer in the entire station. I’d be running meetings, standing up in front of everyone and speaking. Making decisions. What if I can’t do that? I’ve essentially been alone during my job for the entire time I’ve worked there. I rarely even had to fill in on the day shift.”
“But you did it today, right?”
“Yeah, but that was different. That was breaking news. It was insanity the whole time. I could barely stop to breathe, let alone think. Once it was all done, I almost had a panic attack in my boss’s office.” Charlotte replayed the moment she thought Michelle had been pissed over and over again in her head. The panic tightening her chest. The air refusing to fill her lungs. It all rushed back as if she was in the moment again.
But then the memory of Michelle’s faith in her abilities, the joy at being part of a team that brought such an important story to the community. Hell, she’d led the team. That same warmth she’d felt back at the station returned, only this time it burned hot and urgent. Need. It was the need to do it all again.
