Emory beamed. “A, I was first and B, We’re going to need to make out later. It’s all the rage.”
She laughed. “Well, I always chase trends.”
“Here we go again.” I covered my eyes. “Stop being cuter than the rest of the population. It’s not fair. Give the rest of us a shot, please.”
“Nothing we can do about that,” Sarah said. “Want to help me set the table?” She was using her extra-sweet voice, so they would definitely be making out later.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Emory said, seeming to forget that I was in the room. Sarah had this way of simply dazzling her. Plus, there seemed to be a light in her eyes again, and that made me happy.
“And you,” Sarah said, breaking away and pointing at me. “You’re staying for dinner. No arguments. Grace will sob if you try to leave before she’s home.”
“I never flee from homemade lasagna.”
“And she has a bit of news,” Emory said, slinging her arm around my shoulders as we left the room together.
Sarah beamed. “Oh, and I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
Emory looked over at her. “Just remember, I was first.”
Chapter Nine
The next weekend brought the annual station picnic where the various teams that made the news happen at KTMW came together to hang out and eat a lot of food. Verdict? Michelangelo looked really cute in a bow tie. Because it was warm out, I limited his outfit to just that one accessory so the folks at the station picnic would see him at his sassiest but also at his most comfortable and relaxed. A versatile Micky was the best Micky.
As for me, I went with navy shorts and a white and navy shirt tied at the waist. A matching white sandal said, I’m fashionable but also here for sandwiches. I pulled my hair into a singular barrette, leaving much of it on my shoulders, and hoped that I’d both blend in and maybe pull a little attention from a dazzling blonde.
When I arrived at the park close to lunchtime that Saturday afternoon, the aroma of hot dogs and hamburgers wafting from the nearby grill nearly brought me to my knees. I’d not eaten breakfast, and that made the food that much more fantastic smelling. The picnic grounds were already crowded, and what I thought might be nineties music floated from the DJ booth in the distance. There was a ring toss game for kids, face painting, and even a couple of guys twisting balloon animals. That atmosphere was easily festive and lively.
“Can I interest you in a green giraffe? My treat.” I smiled at the sound of Carrie’s voice as it tickled my ear. My whole body said hello.
“I have a feeling they’re free. And green?” I turned to find her standing there in a sky-blue sundress, slightly off the shoulder. Her blond hair carried lazy waves. The flip-flops on her feet were less fancy than mine, which made me absorb how relaxed and all-around gorgeous she looked. I swallowed. My palms itched. I loved it.
“I prefer a little less realism in my balloon animals, or what’s the point?”
I grinned. “I’m just amazed you’ve thought about it enough to formulate a balloon-animal philosophy.”
“Not my first network picnic.”
I pretend-gasped. “Then you know where the good food lives.”
She leaned in, and I could smell her perfume. Fresh flowers on a spring day. “Tam’s grillwork is superior to Devante’s who leans more toward an outer char.”
I nodded. “This is valuable intel.”
“Who is this dapper dog?”
I looked down and grinned at my prancing pup. “This is Michelangelo. He doesn’t mind a little char.”
Carrie knelt down with the look of someone literally melting. I’d never seen her so utterly vulnerable. “Hi there, adorable puppy.” She beamed at him, and I realized that I was, perhaps, no longer present. Micky, attention hog that he was, shook his entire back end and picked up his feet as if marching in place. After he gave her hand a few good licks, she leaned closer and allowed him to lick her cheek.
“Now you’ve done it.”
“We’re just saying hello.” She straightened, but when she did so, she brought Micky up with her. “We’re really good friends now,” she informed me and kissed his cheek right back. “I like his tie.” Another kiss. I could see where this was going, and it made me smile. Especially since my dog was clearly in heaven and stared at me with such victory that I had to laugh.
“Caroline? Do you have a moment?”
She beamed at the man who’d approached us. “Of course.”
“My wife’s a big fan, and I’d love to introduce you.”
She looked down at Micky and back at me. “We’re going on a field trip. That okay?”
I laughed, surprised at her commitment. “By all means.”
I searched out a beverage, stoked to find a large dispenser of fresh lemonade, and watched from a distance as Carrie and my dog posed for the photo. Once that happened, it was like she’d opened the floodgates, and there was an informal line of staff family members who wanted to say hello and grab a selfie with her. Her job was never really done. To her credit, she didn’t seem to mind and smiled and laughed at all the right moments. I remembered her body pressed to mine in the editing bay, and my cheeks went red-hot.
“How’s it going, Skyler? Enjoying yourself?” Carlos rocked back on his heels, wearing plaid shorts and a white polo.
“I am. Steal any stories lately?” I said it with a wide, friendly grin so he knew we were okay, but that I also saw him for who he was and what he was willing to do.
He considered my question. “I don’t know. Any more Seth spottings I could get in on?” He was ribbing me, but in a playful way. “What about Thomas, or Kenneth? Got any of those?”
“I’ll have you know that they caught Seth. My story got his photo out there, and the tip line blew up.” Apparently, the whole neighborhood knew Seth and his ineptness and just needed a little prompting to call in. I loved it when my work made a difference somewhere. It made the job all the more gratifying.
“Job well done,” he said sincerely and touched his beer can to my cup. “It’s rough out there, and you’re holding your own. The world is noticing. Trust me. Tam sure is.”
I squinted. “How do you know that?” I hadn’t received much feedback from the man himself, outside of a polite nod or small talk before he headed back to his office with the army of television screens. I imagined him mainlining popcorn and taking furious notes on all the other stations, sacrificing sleep and sanity.
“Easy.” Carlos widened his eyes. “Because you’re still here. They don’t wait too long before deciding someone isn’t the right fit. You seem to have made the cut.” He raised his can at me a final time and trotted off because they’d called for anyone who wanted to play touch football.