The Second Chance Supper Club

by Meier, Nicole

  If she could just limp along until April, then maybe she could close Mesquite and concentrate on her next move.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  JULIA

  Julia was seated at the dining room table when Ginny found her. She’d arranged a messy but workable makeshift office there earlier that morning. Her laptop lay open, its screen brightly displaying open news sites and a bullet-point-formatted document of notes. Within her reach was a steaming mug of coffee that held her second refill of the morning. Remnants of a blueberry muffin and a chewed melon rind occupied the plate adjacent. Ever since arriving, Julia had found her appetite reawakened, and the yearning for breakfast was a daily sensation that she happily indulged. There wasn’t any need to starve herself for the cameras anymore. Not really.

  And while this detail meant she wasn’t working, this was just fine with her.

  Despite the muted sunlight streaming through the far window, a low fire glowed in the room’s kiva fireplace. Julia liked how the crackling hunks of burning wood kept the chill off during the early-morning hours. Plus, the smell was heavenly. It was a mix of charcoal and cedar that reminded her of childhood campfires and cups of marshmallowed hot chocolate.

  With James’s newfound information still buzzing in her brain, she couldn’t help but rise early and do some exploring online. If what he’d said was true, that the mayor’s chief of staff was being investigated for tax evasion, then Julia suddenly had the potential to serve up a significant story to her boss.

  A bigger question loomed. Did she want to be the one to do it? Did she really want the attention thrust back onto her? After everything that had happened?

  Of course, the opportunist in her wanted to break the story in the worst way. It would be an act of redemption, an opportunity to shed her unwanted image as a hack reporter.

  Yet ever since the botched Rossetti interview, certain aspects of the job had soured for Julia. A considerable amount of loyalty had been lost, on both sides of the deal. Gone was the driving need to please Peter in an effort to hurtle her way to the top of the GBN pecking order. Gone was the idea that the network would put its powers behind her blossoming career.

  Was this really the place Julia wanted to be? Was this the brand—as the executives so succinctly put it—that she wanted to represent? For the first time in years, Julia wasn’t so sure.

  But throwing away a juicy lead went against her very nature. Thus, she’d thrown herself back into work that morning, taking notes and writing down questions regarding Rossetti’s staff and the inner workings of his downtown office. And about the consultancy that James had mentioned. There were still too many holes in the story that required filling. Julia had to be prepared either way. The only difficulty was what she’d do with her findings once they were gathered.

  “Someone looks hard at work.” Ginny came in behind her, dressed for the day with a collection of reusable shopping bags hanging off her right arm. “Whatcha doin’?”

  Julia rotated in her seat. She felt caught in the act somehow, even though she wasn’t doing anything wrong. Still, a guilty grin played at the corners of her mouth. “Oh, I just thought I’d catch up on a few things. James had a lead on a story I was working on, and I thought I might look into it myself.”

  Ginny’s brow arched. “I thought you were still on leave for another couple of weeks.”

  “Yeah. I am. Technically. But I want to be prepared for when that changes.” She paused, chewing on her lower lip. “Strike that. If that changes, I guess I should say.”

  Ginny deposited her bags onto the table and pulled out a chair. A look of concern crossed her face. “Are you thinking you might not have a job when this period is over? Has your boss said anything more?”

  Julia shook her head and slumped in her seat. It was true; she really had no idea whether she’d have a position to go back to at the network. The last exchange she’d had with Peter hadn’t been encouraging. In fact, it had been downright depressing. Peter had stopped short of “You leave me no choice.” And Julia still hadn’t figured out exactly what that meant. Rather than press him for clarification, she’d gotten off the phone as quickly as possible before he decided to fire her right then and there. Ever since then, a constant dread had accompanied her wherever she went. Ginny might not want to board her any longer. And then what?

  But admitting this out loud felt like too much of a risk.

  “No. Peter hasn’t communicated with me beyond the instructions to sign documents and make sure I keep my distance from GBN.” Julia shrugged. “He hasn’t said I’m not welcome back either. So, who knows? But then again, some much younger woman has been whisked in to cohost in my absence. Daybreak has continued on as if nothing happened. It’s unnerving, if I’m totally honest.”

  Ginny cocked her head. “But you’re out here working anyway?”

  “Yeah, I guess I am.” Julia offered an unsure smile and then made small circular motions at her temples. Just thinking about work made her head hurt. “It’s all I know how to do. If I learn of a good story, I can’t help myself. It’s part of my DNA at this point. But I’m not sure what to do with it all. I’m pretty disillusioned at the moment, if that makes any sense.”

  Ginny studied her. Her arms lay folded across her chest, and her lips were fixed into a tight purse. Julia knew how her sister felt about such things—the dangers of selling out to an establishment just to get along. Without a shadow of a doubt, Ginny didn’t approve. “It makes a lot of sense,” her sister finally said. “You’ve been through a lot. You made a mistake, but you’ve also been turned out without the chance to defend yourself. You’re conflicted. I get it.”

  “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

  Ginny loosened her arms and cast Julia a reassuring glance. “Take it from me, sometimes it’s healthy to step back and reflect. I think that’s what you’ve been doing out here, thousands of miles away from home. Whether you intended it or not, you came to Arizona to get some perspective. I’m confident you’ll figure it out.”

  “Ginny?” Julia felt the salt rising at the back of her throat. She swallowed.

  “Yes?”

  “Thanks for understanding. I mean it. You have no idea.”

  Ginny reached out and patted Julia on the back of her hand. “Trust me, I have some idea. You’re going to be fine. I just know it. I want you to know it too.”

  A thought occurred to Julia. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Well, obviously something else has been worrying you. Besides the ebb and flow of mother-daughter tension with Olive. You’re clearly stressed over money.”

  It was a risk, and maybe Ginny would once again say it wasn’t any of Julia’s business.

  “You’re not wrong.” Ginny’s face turned sad. “Money has been more than tight. I can’t deny it. Lord knows I’ve tried, though.”

  This time it was Julia who reached forward with a hand. She hated to see her sister this way. Now she was glad she’d pushed. Ginny was perhaps in real trouble. “How long has this been going on?”

  Ginny groaned. “For a while. And I’m embarrassed to say it’s only getting worse. Mesquite has been amazing and I love doing the supper club, but if I’m completely honest, it’s sucking my bank account dry. Food is expensive. Booking the supper club dinners for only two or three nights a week hasn’t exactly been bringing in as much cash as I’d hoped. It’s no secret I haven’t been able to pay Olive what she deserves. But up until now, I’ve kept to myself how dire my finances really are. Olive doesn’t know. Not fully. I didn’t want to place that burden on her. Our relationship has been fragile enough without the added stress. You’re the first person I’ve told.”

  A thickness filled the space between them.

  Julia watched her sister’s face fall in shame. While this was news to her, she couldn’t really say she was surprised. Ginny’s dinners of artisan ingredients and high-end fare had to have taken a toll on her bank account. But Julia had just assumed the
supper club’s customers covered the price tag. Her heart broke for Ginny.

  “Oh, Ginny. I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks.” Ginny swallowed, her throat bobbing. Julia watched as she blinked back dampness from her eyes. Her sister had been holding so much worry inside. It must have been difficult without any support system to lean on. A pebble of guilt settled in her gut. At least Julia had had James to listen to her worries and hold her hand. Who did Ginny have if she’d kept it all from Olive?

  Julia should have been around. She suddenly realized she would’ve liked to have been there for her sister. Instead she’d foolishly let so much time go by.

  Ginny continued. “I’ve been working out a plan to turn things around. I’m still a long way off from making it work, but the good news is there’s hope. And please . . .” She paused. A look of consternation masked her features. “I don’t want this to affect your choice to stay or leave. Truly. Don’t set your life aside just to hang around here and help me out of a mess I created. That’s not why I told you. I’m telling you the truth because you asked. Your help with the supper club has been amazing. But honestly, you don’t owe me anything, in spite of how I may have made you feel guilty before. I was carrying around years’ worth of hurt, and probably resentment, that I needed to get off my chest. But I’m ready to get rid of it.”

  “Well, you’re not getting rid of me quite yet. I’m planning on sticking around a bit longer. And I intend to help out while I do.” Julia smiled. She snapped her laptop closed and gathered her loose papers into a pile.

  “Thanks,” Ginny murmured.

  Julia fixed her with a searching stare. “You’re not alone, you know, Ginny. I’m here. So, what do you say we go into the kitchen and you tell me what I can do to help prepare for your next round of guests?”

  Ginny returned the smile, and together they went into the other room to plan.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  JULIA

  Thursday brought an onslaught of surprising phone calls. Julia had been taking a dustrag to Ginny’s living room when the phone in her back pocket buzzed. Ever since James accused her of being a poor communicator, she’d kept the device on her at all times. She couldn’t run this risk with work. With the exception of showering and sleeping, Julia had gone back to her regular practice of scanning her screen for messages. The updates she’d turned off, in an act of self-preservation. The notifications of people trying to reach her, however, she monitored.

  She was surprised to see that the number illuminating her screen belonged to Catrine from work. Brightening, Julia picked up after one ring.

  “Cat,” she said. “Hi!”

  “Hey yourself, stranger.” A gravelly female voice greeted her on the other end. Julia smiled and imagined her makeup artist friend hunched over in a knee-length puffy coat and stylish boots, planted on a bench in the smoker’s area behind the studio. It was a nice little hideaway, actually. Except for the cloud of cigarette smoke emitted by stressed-out staff.

  A muffled breeze sounded through the line. Julia thought of her friend, braced against the chilling temperatures on the streets of New York. It might even be snowing there. Glancing down at the drawstring linen shorts and stretchy cotton V-neck she’d borrowed from Olive, she understood just how vastly different her surroundings were from Catrine’s. Julia had traded overcoats and wool mittens for bare feet and sun hats. Suddenly, the idea of returning to winter conditions on the East Coast was terribly unappealing.

  Finding a spot on the sofa, she ditched her dustrag and flopped down. “Ha! I know. I’ve kind of been MIA. Sorry I didn’t call. I hope you can forgive me.”

  “Jeez, girl. I’m just glad to know you’re alive and well. Where the hell did you run off to, anyway?”

  Julia rolled her eyes. She wasn’t surprised that she was a watercooler topic throughout the building. Part of her didn’t care, and the other part wondered what else had been said in her absence. “I was suspended over the Rossetti interview. Peter and the big bosses are upset with me, so I guess you could say I’m taking the time away to find myself. As corny as that sounds. I just needed to put some space between myself and the city. Does that make sense?”

  “Yup, I get it.” There was the sucking sound of Catrine’s long inhale, followed by a forceful exhale. Julia sensed tension in her friend’s voice. “I’d leave for a while if I could too. This place is getting more insane by the day. Did you hear that Miller asked for a promotion after you left? There’s chatter that he marched upstairs and asked to take over hosting Daybreak on his own. Then they sent in that Hannah chick and he went nuts. The whole team has been overcome by his bad energy. It’s not been good.”

  “Wow.” Julia had no idea. She knew Miller thought highly of himself. And she knew he believed that he’d rise up in the ranks faster than she would. He’d practically announced this outright on more than one occasion over the past year. But to assume he could just have the whole show to himself was pretty ballsy. Even for Miller. “I didn’t know. I gather he’s been giving my replacement a hard time?”

  Catrine let out a low, wicked snicker. “Oh my god. You don’t even know the half of it. The poor girl’s hands shake under the desk for most of her tapings. The production assistant says Miller refuses to speak to her when they’re off the air. He’s made the whole environment downright hostile. If this keeps up, I doubt she’ll last. She’s okay, bright and bubbly, if you like that kind of thing. But she’s not you.”

  Julia’s heart expanded. “Oh, Cat. You’re the best. I’m sure that’s not true, but I love you for saying it anyway.”

  “I miss having you sit in my chair and be the one normal person in this damn place. Now I’m stuck gluing false eyelashes on Hannah while she sips her coffee out of a baby straw all morning. Oh yeah, and she does voice exercises in the makeup room. Loud, annoying ones that make her sound like a gerbil that’s sucked all the air out of a helium balloon. I’m inches away from stabbing her with a lip pencil.”

  “That sounds pretty awful.” Hearing that she’d been missed and that the environment had changed gave Julia the tiniest slice of gratification. While she didn’t want her friend to have to endure the toxic actions of her coworkers, Julia was glad that she hadn’t been forgotten. Otherwise, she would have felt as if her time at GBN hadn’t been about anything.

  According to her friend, it had.

  “When are you coming back?”

  Julia bit her lower lip. That was the million-dollar question. In keeping with the parameters of her suspension, not for a couple more weeks. What she did after that, however, remained a mystery. “I don’t know, to be honest. I suppose I’ll need to meet with Peter and see what the network has in mind. I’ve been keeping my distance on purpose. Just to clear my head.”

  “Yeah, I hear you. I wish I could join you, wherever you are.”

  “Arizona. At my sister’s place.”

  Catrine snorted. “That’s nice, you’re probably somewhere warm while I’m out here freezing my ass off.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “Yeah, no worries, girl. I just called to say hey and tell you I miss seeing you around. Keep me posted when you get back, okay? We can catch up.”

  Julia nodded into the phone. “You bet. Thanks for checking on me. You’re the best.”

  They hung up and Julia remained on the sofa, going over the details of their call. So Miller had been shot down, and now he was taking it out on Julia’s replacement. That sounded about right. As much as Julia detested Hannah on paper, in reality, she felt sorry for the girl. Broadcast news was a cutthroat business. Show any sign of weakness and you didn’t stand a chance. She wondered how it would all turn out. For everyone.

  She’d stood to gather up her dustrag when her phone buzzed a second time. Thinking it must be Catrine again, so soon after hanging up, she picked up quickly. “Hi.”

  There was a beat of silence followed by an unsure voice. “Um, hi yourself.”

  Julia frowned and pulled
the phone back to study the caller ID. It just read unknown number. “Sorry, who’s this?”

  “Julia? It’s Shane. Your friend from the crazy dinner party?”

  She laughed. “Oh, hi, Shane. How are you? Are you calling for my sister?” Although, now that she’d said it, that really didn’t make sense either. Why would Shane have Julia’s number but not Ginny’s?

  Another drawn-out silence ensued. Maybe he was regretting making the call. “Oh, no,” Shane finally said. “I was actually calling for you. Ginny gave me your cell. I hope that’s okay. Really”—he was rushing now—“I just felt like I needed to apologize for the other night. That was a total disaster, with my friend getting sick, then me barging in on you and your boyfriend. Fiancé, rather. I just hope I didn’t cause any trouble. I guess I just wanted to say that to you.”

  Julia found herself dropping back onto the couch. Well, this was surprising. Shane had been worried enough to seek her out and apologize. “That’s so considerate of you. But there’s nothing to be sorry about. You didn’t do anything wrong. Neither did your friend. I hope she’s okay. No more health scares after dinner was over?”

  “Angie’s fine. Thanks. Despite what happened, my friends all raved about your sister’s cooking. And how nice you and Olive treated them, considering everything that went on. I just wanted you to know. You were a great help. So calm amid the chaos. I guess that’s what makes you a good reporter. You can perform under pressure.”

  “Don’t I wish.” She grinned into the phone. It was nice talking to him like this. As if they’d been friends all along. There was an effortless, easy warmth to it that Julia liked. “But you’re sweet to say so.”

  “Seriously, you impressed me.”

  “Thanks.” Her gaze drifted out the front window. A pair of lovebirds flapped around on the ground near the front walkway, their velvety gray feathers like smooth overcoats as they moved in unison across the gravel path. Julia relaxed into a dreamy state, taking in the warm sound of Shane’s voice as he spoke.