ONE
Callie stared down at her dumbphone with even more loathing than usual.
It couldn’t connect to the internet, of course, but that wasn’t why she hated it. God knew, she didn’t need constant reminders via e-mail and social media notifications of everything she should worry about, not when some days she was already worried from the moment she woke up in the morning to the moment she made herself quit reading and turn off her bedside light. The cell’s limited functionality was a feature, not a bug.
No, she hated her phone because she hated making calls and sending texts. Period.
And above all else, she hated it because she didn’t want to make this particular call.
Just last month, she’d been given the numbers for Irene and Cowan, her intern contacts at Home and Away Television. Irene was kind of scary, to be honest. Cowan, though, had always seemed kind and reasonable, a model representative of America’s most popular cable channel devoted to all matters home- and travel-related.
He’d also proven much less likely than Irene to sigh loudly whenever Callie took too long to respond to questions.
She needed patience and understanding right now, so she was calling Cowan. Maybe he could figure a way out of this mess for her, a path that would allow her to film her episode of HATV’s Island Match without a boyfriend.
Even though that would violate the entire premise of the show.
Dammit. She didn’t want to tap his name on her contacts list. But the breakroom door was closed, she was alone, and she couldn’t delay any longer.
When he answered his cell, she used her Professional Librarian Voice. Tried to exude calm and competence and confidence in every syllable, despite her anxiety.
“Cowan? This is Callie Adesso. I think we may have a slight problem.” She put the phone on speaker and laid it on the table in front of her, so she didn’t have to hold it up with her trembling hand. “I wanted to let you know ASAP.”
“Okay.” His deep voice sounded cautious. “What’s wrong?”
Before Callie could answer, she heard a distinctive and aggrieved female voice over the line. “Oh, Jesus, what now?”
Irene. Lord help them all.
“For God’s sake, woman, you can’t just snatch my—” Cowan made a sort of growly noise, and Callie could decipher the faint sounds of a scuffle. “My apologies, Callie. Hold on just a moment, please.”
Everything went silent, as Callie blinked at her phone in befuddlement.
“We’re back.” Cowan sounded breathless. “And just so you know, you’re on speaker phone so both Irene and I can hear what’s going on. We’re here to help. Without any complaint.”
Callie had a feeling that last bit wasn’t directed at her.
A glance at the wall confirmed the sad truth. After dithering for so long, she only had ten minutes left of her break. She needed to get back on the desk with Thomas, much as she wished she didn’t. There was no time to prevaricate or stall further.
“Andre and I broke up this morning,” she told them. “He won’t be able to film our episode of Island Match next week.”
She could have sworn she heard Irene mutter I told you so.
“Callie…” Cowan’s tone softened even further. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
What would be the point of pretending? “Please don’t worry. I’m not heartbroken.”
Not about that, anyway.
Over the last couple of months, a relationship that had seemed promising if unspectacular had devolved into mutual dissatisfaction. Andre had stopped even pretending to listen to her, his bored gaze going unfocused whenever she tried to talk to him about her day or her worries or anything other than their dinner plans. And on the rare occasions he did pay attention to her, he’d begun responding to her concerns with increasing impatience. Telling her they were stupid and unfounded, and she just needed to get over them.
As if it were that easy. As if she hadn’t already tried telling herself that thousands of times.
In return for his impatience, she’d begun responding to his amorous overtures with indifference. So she’d spent the last several weeks in a sexless, tension-filled relationship with a boyfriend whom she barely saw.
She should have ended things last month, probably. But starting a conversation about how and why their relationship had gone bad was way beyond her capabilities, as was a conversation about ending that relationship. If Andre hadn’t broached the topic himself, she had no idea when it would have happened.
For someone like her, that kind of awkwardness and conflict could cause hives, and she wasn’t inviting more Benadryl into her life.
