Violet strolls over.“You ready for a break?”
I glance at the screen, sighing.“Give me a couple more minutes.I need to wrap this up, and I want to get new photos of the burnout.”
Folding her arms, she leans against my desk.“Fair enough.Any guesses on who did it?”
I shrug, lowering my voice.“Honestly?I don’t care.”
“Not a cop, just a reporter.”
“Exactly.”
The office is busy around us, but my focus is slipping.My mind keeps drifting back to Luna’s office, envisioning myself sitting behind her desk, assigning stories, editing pieces, bringing in something new, something different.Maybe even a new column with more worldly, compelling stories instead of mundane local incidents.It could happen.If I get the promotion.
Violet nudges me.“Come on.Coffee first, then to the scene.”
We walk the couple of blocks to the diner.Inside, Genevieve shoots me a knowing look before shaking her head and turning away.
“What was that about?”
Violet shrugs.“No idea.Maybe you weren’t smiling the right way.”
“Not in the mood to fake one today.”
We order our coffees, but as we wait, I can’t shake the feeling of eyes on me.A couple of people whisper, glancing my way.My stomach knots.
Paranoia?Maybe.
“Any idea when Luna’s announcing the promotion?”
I clear my throat, turning to Violet.“She said when she gets back from vacation.”
I let myself drift into the fantasy of the new position again.
“Order up!”The words break through my thoughts, and I shake it off, grabbing my coffee.
As we step outside, Mia from the hair salon passes us.“You never told me you had a boyfriend.”She playfully whacks my arm.
Heat creeps up my neck as confusion floods through me.“What?”
She winks and rushes off to answer her phone before I can ask anything else.
I turn to Violet.“Okay, what the hell is going on?”
“No clue, but people are acting weird toward you.”
The unease follows me as we reach the scene of the burnout.I snap photos, interview a few shop owners.Each has a different version of the story: out-of-towner, a reckless new driver, someone who shouldn’t even have a license.The usual mess of speculation.I write down their statements and start heading back.
The second we step into the newsroom, Olive calls out, “Oh my God, you little devil!”
I turn, whispering, “What is everyone talking about?”
Olive grins, waving her phone.“You.And the hot doc.”
My stomach drops.
My heart follows.
No, no, no.
