“That is operationally educational.”
“You’re bribing me with chores.”
“I’m offering immersive learning opportunities.”
I try very hard not to smile.
It is a close thing.
Josh sees it.
Obviously he sees it.
He has the survival instincts of a man who should keep quiet and the personality of a man who absolutely will not. “There’s probably a gutter that needs looking at.”
Beyond the office window, the yard sits quiet under the fading light. Someone has left a helmet on the bench. The place looks quiet from here, almost peaceful, but I know better than most how quickly quiet becomes noise.
I think about Samantha earlier, swallowed by a high-vis vest and ordering grown men about as if nobody has ever suggested authority might not belong to her.
I think about her older.
Fuck it.
“When would he start?” I ask.
His expression doesn’t change, but I know him well enough to see he’s careful not to look pleased. “When you’re back on duty.”
“Fine. But don’t even dream of me spending my four days off emotionally preparing for Anthony John Hodgson.”
“Understood.”
“And I can end it.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re telling the editor this is not a fluffy redemption piece about a poor misunderstood journalist learning women can be competent.”
Josh looks faintly offended. “Obviously.”
“Good.”
I breathe out slowly.
This is a terrible idea.
Possibly one of the worst ideas ever conceived in this office, and this is the same office where Kev once proposed improving community engagement by starting a station TikTok calledHot Responders.
Still.
I look at Josh.
“Fine.”
His eyebrows lift.
I point at him before he can look too satisfied. “In principle.”
“Of course,” he says solemnly. “In principle.”
