Glancing at his coworkers’ personal desks, Matthew noted how he thought each reflected the character of the person who sat there. Faith’s was as messy and disorganized as her makeup bag, and the decorations she chose were all about her. There were several pictures of Faith out and about in station-issued clothing holding a microphone at events, and she had magazine covers she was on tacked to a corkboard. The only item that was more benign was a teddy bear with a red ribbon around its neck. He wondered if some fan had sent it to her or if she got it from a loved one, but he didn’t care enough to ask.
Abby’s desk was clean and organized, and her personal touches were all neatly framed pictures of her kids. Chuck’s desk was nearly barren of any personal items at all and looked clinical and efficient. It matched Chuck’s personality in Matthew’s mind—vanilla. He was the type of guy to say “Great” if you asked him about his weekend. Not that Matthew was that much more forthcoming, but at least he would have more than one-word answers.
Matthew’s desk had a picture of him and Tara on a cruise, hair tousled in the wind. It sat in a heart-shaped frame that saidLIVE, LAUGH, LOVEon the sides. He never would have chosen that kind of cheesy frame, but Tara had given it to him for their anniversary and he felt compelled to display it, especially for the times she came in to visit.
He favored the various sports memorabilia on the desk, his favorite being a signed baseball he had gotten at a Tigers gamewith his dad when Matthew was so small he was still playing T-ball. He had it in a square glass display holder. It was worth some money but priceless to him.
Assessing the weather center in its entirety, Matthew knew he absolutely couldn’t hide the lipstick anywhere around his own desk, and he didn’t want to implicate Abby or Chuck. Glancing down at the floor, his eyes traveled to the dozen or so pairs of shoes Faith had under her desk, all scattered and haphazardly strewn about, some upside down or not even next to their partners.
There were high heels of all sorts, as well as a few pairs of what Tara called “Toms”—flats that Faith wore around the office in between shows. Behind the shoes he could see a few crumpled shopping bags and half-crushed shoeboxes Faith had just shoved back there. Maybe that area was the winner. It seemed to be as good a spot as any.
Quickly he knelt and shoved the lipstick behind the shoes next to a shopping bag. If she looked for it she would think she dropped it and it somehow got wedged back there. If she didn’t look for it he could retrieve it in a day or two and put it back in her makeup bag—if he felt like it—or he could throw it away, forcing her to buy a new one. He would see.
For now, he felt sneaky and powerful in a way he wasn’t used to. It gave him a surge of adrenaline.
Resuming his spot at the main weather desk, he worked on some graphics for the weekend shows and was trying to look casual going over maps when he heard a key turn in the door. Faith walked in with a Diet Coke in one hand and a salad in a plastic container in the other. He barely glanced up with a slight nod, as had become their custom. She didn’t acknowledge him in any way and walked straight to her desk to eat.
The office was always uncomfortable with so little talking andhe usually tried to leave as soon as he could. She did weather for the five, six, and eleven. Talent could take a decent dinner break and have plenty of time to work in between shows. That day he had done the noon, the four, and their new lifestyle show at 6:30. He had stayed a bit late working on some fun graphics (the “grilling forecast,” the “pool forecast,” the “dog-walking forecast,” and the “biking forecast”). Truth be told, they were all the exact same forecast, but people liked the pop-art graphics that showed a sizzling grill, a sparkling pool, a cute dog, or a brightly colored bike, and management was always pushing them to use these types of visuals to help convey information. “More lifestyle graphics” was Perry’s constant refrain. “Think of some new ones. What do people like to do outdoors? Make it a graphic.”
But now Matthew was done and free to go and he stood, gathering his coat and bag from his desk.
“I’m heading out,” he said.
She didn’t look up from scrolling her phone as she jabbed a plastic fork into her salad, one that he noticed was almost entirely lettuce. He didn’t see any protein on it. She nodded and mumbled, “OK, see ya.”
As he strode out of the weather center, his heart was still hammering. What would she do when she couldn’t find her lipstick that night? She had other tubes in her makeup bag, but she wore that red almost every night. Would she suspect him? Would she find it and turn him in to Perry? Maybe this was a stupid idea.
His phone vibrated with a text. It was Tara.
Did you do it?
Matthew liked to prove his manhood around her. It seemed to make her more attracted to him, so he opted not to tell herhow nervous he had been and how his heart was still going faster than normal. Instead he texted back:
Hell yeah I did!
She replied:
Yes!!! I can’t wait to watch the 11:00 show!
Me too
That night the weather animation started with “the voice of God” (as TV stations liked to call it) saying, “And now, your fair-weather forecast with Faith Richards…” The camera went to Faith, Veronica, and Tom at the anchor desk chatting before Faith walked in front of the green screen to give the full forecast. Matthew squinted, trying to see Faith’s lips, but Tara sussed it out almost immediately.
“Pink! She’s wearing pink! It totally clashes with that outfit and with her forecast earrings. She must be piiiisssssed! We did it!”
Tara lifted her cocktail to clink glasses, giggling.
Faith never asked about the lipstick. Matthew thought she might put a note in their shared weather chat that hardly anyone used anymore, something like, “Has anyone seen my Bobbi Brown red lipstick? I seem to have misplaced it,” but she didn’t.
A few days later he retrieved the tube from under her desk and put it back, way at the bottom of her makeup bag in the corner, relief washing over him.
As the weeks passed, he chuckled more and worried less aboutthe little trick he and Tara had played. He had loved seeing how giddy it made Tara those few nights when Faith had been forced to wear pink and magenta on her lips, not her signature red. He thought the whole gig was done and over.
But then Tara suggested that they up the stakes even more.
CHAPTER NINE
Kelly
