Garrett’s jaw clenched. “What do you mean?”
She rolled her desk chair next to his. “So, while they were building the levee, the lab compaction tests kept failing, but they kept going anyway. The guy I spoke with said it was really fishy. But when he started asking questions, they transferred him to another job in Mississippi.”
“That sounds shady.…” Garrett leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.
“Even shadier, the guy said he had heard rumors that the company was cutting corners with the materials to maximize profit.” She leaned forward. “This might not be a story about a levee failing inspection—this might be a story about corruption.”
“Jesus, Callie, you’re brilliant. How in the world did you get him to say that on the record?”
She beamed. “Just good old-fashioned interview skills, I guess.”
He raised his hand up for a high five, and she slapped it back. Her heart swelled at the compliment, and Callie blushed. Garrett was the best journalist she knew. Any praise coming from him always felt nice, especially since he didn’t give it out that often.
“You have to tell Jerry,” he said, standing up. “I think he’s still here.”
He began making his way through the converted rice mill. The space would’ve been nice if it had been upgraded through the years. The patinated brick walls looked cool at first glance, until you saw them crumbling upon closer inspection. And the structural columns and wood-beamed ceiling felt rustic, but the lack of insulation made everything echo when people talked. It had so much potential, Callie thought, but no one seemed to care about reviving it—almost like a metaphor for the newspaper it housed. As they continued walking toward Jerry’s office, she noticed most of their coworkers had already left, leaving behind their unorganized desks for the day.
Their boss was in his office in the upstairs loft, scowling at the computer screen in front of him. His desk was unusually messy, even for him. Papers were scattered everywhere with a couple of to-go coffee cups and granola bar wrappers mixed in. The door was closed, but they knocked on his glass window, and he motioned for them to enter.
“Callie’s got the Herald’s next big investigative piece,” Garrett announced proudly, pulling up one of the black padded chairs.
She sat down next to him, holding her reporter’s notebook tightly in her hand. “It’s about the levee that just failed inspection,” she announced. “I have a source on record admitting negligence. It sounds like the contractor knew the materials they were using were bad—it’s almost as if they were trying to cover that up.”
Jerry raised an eyebrow. “Interesting.”
Callie smoothed her hand over the black leather notebook, which Garrett had given her last Christmas. “We need to expose this. People and their homes are at risk until it’s fixed.”
Jerry took a deep breath and brought his hands together on the desk. “I agree,” he said, nodding his head.
Callie sat up in her chair and firmly grounded her black flats on the floor. “I think the best course of action is to dig a little deeper into the contractor and the government officials who hired them.” She looked over at Garrett. “Follow the money, right?”
“Exactly…” Garrett said, crossing his legs.
“Sounds good,” Jerry said. “Go forth and conquer.” He sounded less excited than Callie expected him to be. Jerry let out a long sigh.
“What’s wrong?” Garrett asked. He must have felt something was off, too.
Jerry leaned back in his chair and mussed his thin gray hair with his hands. “You’re gonna hear it soon, anyway,” he muttered under his breath. He rubbed his face as he spoke. “You guys know circulation is down.”
They had been hearing about the readership numbers dropping through the years. Just last week, it had dipped below 50 percent of what it was when Callie started. “The advertising team is having a hard time selling right now. We’ve got to sell more papers, guys. These investigative pieces are great, but we also need to make the news jazzier. Do more lifestyle-type features, put some recipes in there.” Jerry looked at Callie and shrugged. “And I hate to say it, but maybe it’s time we bring back the jokes section.”
“No! Not those stupid jokes,” she pleaded. It had taken a year to convince Jerry to get rid of the section that was taking up a third of a page every day. Why did everything have to revolve around entertainment value?
“Look, I’m not saying we have to bring the jokes back, but let’s brainstorm and come up with some things to add.” His office phone rang, and he glanced at the caller ID. “I have to take this. Just be thinking about circulation when you assign and write your stories, okay?” He waved them away.
“Ugh,” Garrett groaned as they walked back to their desks. All of their coworkers were gone now.
“We’re not bringing those damn jokes back,” Callie said under her breath.
Garrett let out a laugh. “We’ll come up with something else, don’t worry.” He started packing his bag and shutting down his computer. “Got any fun plans tonight?”
“I’ll probably hang out here a little longer and transcribe my interview from today.” She sat back down in her chair. “I want to be able to jump into the investigation first thing tomorrow.”
He swung his leather messenger bag over his shoulder. “I have to say, I really expected you to peace out of here once you won the lotto.”
“You mean quit?” she asked, opening up her email on the computer and finding ten new messages.
“Not necessarily quit. I know you can’t stop working.” He started walking backward, to the exit. “I guess I just pictured you being too busy to stay past five, what with your new life of private jets and fancy meals and champagne tastings.”
“Ha, no, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” She paused, and then had an idea. “I have been having fancy meals and champagne tastings, though.” She wondered if this would get a rise out of Garrett. “I’m kind of seeing someone.” She swallowed as her mouth began to feel dry.
He stopped in his tracks and his eyes widened.
Callie secretly hoped he was fighting his jealousy so much that he’d have to say something about his feelings for her, declaring his love before it was too late. It happened in rom-coms—why couldn’t it happen in real life, too?
“I mean, I don’t think he’s that into me, though,” she said with a dramatic sigh. She looked up at Garrett for his reaction. Anything?
“Oh stop,” he said, adjusting the straps of his backpack on his shoulder. “What’s not to love?” He flashed a friendly smile. “I’m sure he’s into you. Go for it!”
Her heart sank. Go for it? He clearly was never going to be interested in her.
He waved his hands at her. “See you tomorrow!”
Callie slumped into her chair and watched as he exited the building. Never going to happen, she told herself for the last time. She needed to move on.
Just then her phone buzzed with an Instagram notification: Wynn Kernstone was now following her. Her lips curled in a grin seeing his name.
Callie quickly unlocked her phone. A little red heart appeared on the bottom of her screen. He had liked one of her pictures, too. A rush of warmth filled her body. Maybe Garrett was right about Wynn.