by Amy Harmon
Stress still showed on most of the faces as they flicked their gazes back and forth between Gabe and Noah.
Noah continued. “Gabe and I have an open-door policy. If any of you have any concerns, at any time, please feel free to come speak with either of us. We want to get to know you all individually, so over the next two weeks, Gabe will arrange for each of you to come in and speak with us, one-on-one. We’d like to know your concerns. You people are the reason this station is great, and I’d like to hear any changes you think would make the station run even more smoothly.”
Some of them were starting to look relieved. Good. That’s why he was there. “Are there any questions I can answer for anyone right now?”
The man standing at the rear of the crowd raised his hand. “I have one.”
The room quieted as everyone turned to look at the man. Despite his angry tone, his face reddened and he seemed embarrassed by the attention.
Another man shook his head. A woman rolled her eyes. Someone murmured, “Ernest.”
Noah forced a warm smile. “What’s on your mind?”
“It’s my understanding that at your last station you two had the nickname of the Firing Squad. Two questions for you: Is that true? And, if so, why are you really here?”
People turned back toward Noah. They weren’t hostile, but they weren’t as friendly as he would have hoped, either.
News certainly did travel fast. Unfortunately, Noah alone had been called a one-man Firing Squad. He had to let three people go at his last station and the angriest had given him the unflattering nickname. He didn’t believe in skirting issues, so he said, “It’s true. Someone with bitter feelings gave me that nickname. In the duties of my position, I have both pleasant and unpleasant responsibilities. I do what needs to be done for the good of the business, as well as for the good of the people who work there. But, as I said earlier, my intent at the present time is not to fire anyone, but to build on what is already here.”
The man who’d spoken out seemed relieved that the others were no longer looking at him. Noah would keep his eye on Ernest, but he suspected the man was just scared about his job, so he’d cut him some slack. “I want to reassure you that I will do everything in my power to keep things running smoothly and normally during the transition.”
Noah scanned the crowd. The pretty brunette caught his eye again and smiled at him. She looked familiar. He must have seen her picture on one of the employee lists, but obviously she was more eye-catching in person. He found himself smiling back and spoke to her. “I’m looking forward to speaking with each of you. Think about any questions or concerns you’d like to discuss with me and with Gabe. Now, I guess all I can tell you is, back to work. As they say: News at eleven.”
A smattering of applause went up, led by the cute young woman in the front row. He wondered again what her job entailed.
“Time for us to go to work, as well.” Gabe stepped down from the command center.
“Right.” Noah headed back down the aisle, nodding and smiling and shaking hands as he went.
As he turned the corner and jogged up the stairs back to his floor, he wished he felt better about the way things had gone. He’d like to lose that stupid nickname. He really didn’t want to fire anyone here, but he did have two major news players he was going to reassign, and he needed to spin it in such a way that they didn’t quit.
* * *
Wow.
Breezy followed the new general manager and assistant manager up the aisle. As they headed for the stairs back to their third-floor offices, she stepped into the Cave.
Double wow. She was still smiling.
Both men were attractive and, according to Chad, single.
But the one who’d caught her eye was Noah Drake. He was amazing. Swoon-worthy.
Looking at him gave her the same feeling she got watching a gorgeous sunset, or observing a building storm front, or forecasting the weather correctly. Total exhilaration. And his low voice had sent a tingle through her like a rumble of thunder.
And, not that it mattered, but it was nice that he had a steady job, unlike her previous surfer boyfriend and the substitute teacher she’d dated for a short while.
Best of all, he wanted to improve the station she had loved ever since her father brought her here as a child and showed her how he forecast the weather.
She’d never admit her attraction to this guy to her mother, who would make a huge deal out of it and embarrass her to death in front of others. She wouldn’t tell her sister, either, because Kendra could hardly relate to anything that wasn’t her art. She wouldn’t even tell her father. Not yet. She wanted to just feel the attraction and enjoy it for a few days, a secret delight like one of the single-serve Häagen-Dazs strawberry ice cream cups waiting for her in her freezer.
And he’d been staring at her! She didn’t want to read too much into that, but he’d been looking!
She hadn’t been interested in a man for over a year. She’d always been too fascinated with weather and working toward her double degrees and she hadn’t had time for much dating.
Most guys weren’t interested in the weather other than as a lame way to start a conversation. But she’d bet this guy would be plenty interested because the weather was part of the news. The most-watched part of the news, in fact. She was one of the highest paid news employees at the station because of it. Everyone wanted to know what the weather was going to bring. Weather was big news. Bad weather was even bigger news.
Noah Drake sounded like the perfect general manager: Someone who wanted to hear what the employees had to say. And Breezy definitely had ideas to share.
Breezy could hardly wait for her turn to speak with him. She’d love to get to know him better. She’d love to share her ideas for changes with him. She’d love to see if he was really as interesting as he seemed.
Surprising even herself, she decided she’d like a shot at this guy.
Chapter Three
Tut-tut, it looks like rain. —Winnie the Pooh and Christopher Robin
Tuesday, April 9
“Don’t joke about quitting, Chad. I mean it. It’s only been a week.” Breezy frowned at her co-worker from Sales. “None of us needs to look for other work. Periods of transition are always hard, but change can be good, too.” Echoes of her parents’ sentiments from last week.
Chad rolled his baby blues at her. “Breezy, how did you ever get to be twenty-eight and still be so freaking naive? There are going to be changes that are not so good, too. I’m just thinking it’s time to look at our options.”
“I’m nervous, too, but please don’t quit,” Breezy whispered. “At least not until after you’ve heard what they have to say. Just consider your visit a friendly little chat with the new boss.”
“It’s easier to find a new job while you’re still employed.” Chad took a deep dramatic breath. “But, fine. I’ll wait until next week to quit.”
“And you quit being so freaking negative. And melodramatic. Nobody is getting fired. You heard the man.”
Shannon Ellis came up to the Cave. “Watch out. You might be next to go,” she said cheerfully.
Chad rolled his eyes. “That is no doubt true.”
Shannon stood next to Chad and leaned her head onto his shoulder. “You’re just jealous because I am so popular with the new management.”
“I prefer to think of them as the new regime.” Chad patted her shoulder. “There, there, you can cry on my shoulder any time you need to. Those big bad bosses treating you poorly again?”
“Just the opposite.” Shannon laughed and pushed off his shoulder. “I’m going back up to the third floor. See you later.”
She waved cheerfully as she headed out of the News Department. Breezy could see the elevator from the Cave.
“Why would she choose to work with Gabe over me? I don’t get it.” Chad put his hand on his chest. “Though I’m not surprised Gabe chose her to be his assistant. She’s gorgeous. I’d eat my fedora for a date with her.�
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Breezy nudged him with her elbow. “Knock it off.” She turned to the computer screen along the back wall of the Cave. “I’ve got some weather graphics to show you. Fiona worked them up and I think we can use them in—”
Chad interrupted. “It looks like Paul’s ‘friendly little chat with the new boss’ didn’t go so well.”
Breezy turned to see Shannon getting on the elevator and Paul stepping off. His normal bright anchorman smile had been replaced by a grim frown, complete with furrows in his brow. He stopped in the lobby, straightened his tie, and looked out toward the parking lot.
A sense of dread filled Breezy. Not liking the feeling, she shook it off. She was not going to let all the doom and gloom get to her. There had to be a logical explanation.
When Paul straightened his shoulders and stepped toward the Newsroom, Breezy walked toward him. Despite her resolution, she found herself starting to feel doomish and gloomish, anyway.
Catching him in the foyer, she lowered her voice. “How did it go?”
His frown deepened and he shook his head just a little. He was really upset.
Breezy had to do something to help. She tilted her head toward the parking lot he’d been eyeing just moments before. She knew his personal weakness. “Want a piece of pie? Candy’s coconut cream? My treat.”
He paused. Finally nodded. “Yes. Let me grab my briefcase. I’ll meet you at the front door.”
Breezy found Fiona and told her she’d be gone for awhile.
“What if they call you in during that time?” Fiona looked worried.
“Tell them I’ll be back by 3:00 and on-air by 3:30.”
Driving Sadie, her cute sunshine yellow Volkswagen Bug, Breezy followed Paul’s black BMW to Candy’s Café. She parked and got out, but Paul stayed seated in his car, staring straight ahead. Not a good sign.
When Breezy tentatively knocked on his car window, he rolled the window halfway down and looked up at her. “I need to take a raincheck, Breezy. I’m going to head on home.”
She leaned over in concern. “Please reassure me that you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.” He looked at her, pain etched in his eyes and still furrowed in his brow. After a long pause, he said, “I’m going home to work on my letter of acceptance of my brand new early retirement package.”
Breezy gasped. “What? Why?”
His smile wasn’t a happy one. He sighed. “Just between us?”
She nodded.
“I was given a choice. Either take early retirement or be asked to leave. I chose to take the very generous early retirement package, thus saving my benefits and retirement and any shred of dignity I may have left.”
Shocked, Breezy struggled to get her head around the news. “Paul, this is horrible.”
“It’s going to be okay. I can get a job somewhere else.”
“Of course you can, but you’ll have to uproot your family, move out of Aspen Grove.”
He looked out the windshield for a moment, not answering.
“But they said they weren’t going to fire anyone,” she said, her voice trailing off.
“And they didn’t. I’m retiring early.”
It was getting harder and harder to stay positive about this new change. She touched his shoulder. “I’ll let you head home. I’m sorry, Paul. I really am.”
He put his hand over hers for an instant. “I know. Thanks, Breezy.” He looked back at her. “It’s a sad day when even you can’t make things look rosy.”
She certainly couldn’t tell Paul to make the best of the changes. But, as she watched him pull away, she decided she was going to try to do exactly that, herself.
Paul’s bad news made it more difficult, but not impossible.
Surely she could find the silver lining to this dark cloud. Soon.
* * *
Wednesday, April 10
Walking through Candy’s Café the next evening, Breezy waved at the two regular waitresses on shift. She opened the door at the rear of the main room, anxious to forget her worries for a couple of hours.
She didn’t want to think about the station. She didn’t want to think about all the changes that were happening too fast. But she especially didn’t want to think about the look in Paul Nelson’s eyes yesterday when he’d told her about his early retirement.
No, she was hoping for a night of blessed forgetfulness, provided by good friends, good food, and a good chick flick. The food was usually served at 6:30 with the movie starting about 7:00, but that varied depending on the conversation.
Candy Kane, owner of the café, had chosen a Wednesday of each month to host the Chick Flick Clique movie nights because Wednesdays were slow nights at the café.
As she closed the door behind her, she was greeted by the six women sitting there.
In the back room that Candy hired out for big parties, Breezy dropped her five-dollar bill into the wide-mouthed vase centered on a narrow table next to the door. The money covered the cost of treats so Candy didn’t lose money on the deal.
On the wall across from the large flat-screen wall-mounted TV, two couches were angled across the corners. Three armchairs spanned the distance between them, and another armchair sat on the opposite end of each. In the middle of the room were two banana chairs and a huge bean bag chair. Candy had arranged platters of food on a dessert cart pushed up against the TV wall.
“Hi, ladies.” Breezy waved and greeted the ladies there.
Iris Summers waved from the couch. Iris’s stunningly beautiful daughter Jamie had been two years behind Breezy in school. Jamie had gone on to become Miss California and then Miss America. She had definitely gotten her looks from her mother, who was still a blonde beauty as she approached fifty.
Next to Iris sat one of Breezy’s best friends. Dani Davidson’s family owned the local donut shop, Holier Than Thou, popular with high school kids, cops, and families. In fact, everyone in town loved Dani’s donuts. Her family had been frying ‘Heavenly Donuts at Down-To-Earth Prices’ for as long as there had been a town, almost. Well, okay, maybe that was an exaggeration. But as long as Breezy could remember, anyway.
Candy motioned to her. “Come on in, Breezy, and join the fun. We were just talking about our most repulsive dates ever.”
The town’s only genuine transplanted Southern belle, Dixie Ross, laughed. “And I won the contest with the first date who kissed me and tried to stick his tongue down my throat. That was before Colt came along and tickled my fancy, of course.” A former Texas Ranger, Colt was now Aspen Grove’s Chief of Police. Both Colt and Dixie had delightful Texas drawls.
“Pretty gross.” Breezy settled herself on the bean bag, snuggling down until it fit perfectly around her. “The tongue, not Colt.”
“Tell us about your worst date.” Dixie motioned to Breezy.
She opened her eyes, wide and innocent. “All of my dates have been wonderful.”
The other women hooted at that one.
Lindsey said, “You were dating men, right?”
Breezy nodded, and asked her other best friend, “So, Lindsey, what’s going on with you and Ethan. Has he proposed again yet?” Ethan Peterson was Lindsey Taylor’s on-again/off-again fiancé. “Last I heard, he won major points for bringing you that cute little puppy.”
Lindsey snorted. “He Who Must Not Be Named now occupies the puppy’s doghouse. And this time it’s a permanent move.”
Whatever. Breezy had heard that line before.
So had the other ladies. Dani said, “But for how long this time, Lindsey? Two months or three?”
“No, this time it’s over. I mean it.” Lindsey snatched a Diet Pepsi off the cart and took a sip.
Breezy caught Dani’s gaze and they exchanged a smile. Lindsey and Ethan always got back together. They may have a volatile relationship, but everyone in town knew they belonged together if only they could stop arguing long enough to figure it out, themselves.
Iris stood and grabbed a plate. “Just give Ethan some time. He’ll gr
ow up. They all do at some point. Even my husband is starting to come around and it only took about thirty years,” she teased. “Ethan will, too.”
Lindsey rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about Ethan any more. Let’s talk about Breezy’s hair instead.”
Surprised, Breezy put a hand to her hair. She normally had it in a French braid, but had straightened her unruly curls into a straight ponytail for the movie night.“What’s wrong with my hair?”
Her friend sighed deeply. “What is not wrong with it?”
Breezy laughed. “Talk to my hair stylist, Baby.”
“The style is great because obviously I only do great cuts. No, it’s not that.” Lindsey came over and lifted strands of Breezy’s curly brown hair. “Either start doing a side braid pulled back into a bun, which would up the sex appeal, or cut it short. You have the cutest pixie face and you would look gorgeous with a short cut. Please let me try when you come next time.”
“I like it this way. Besides, I don’t think I’m ready for that much change all at once.” There was enough change at the station as it was. But she wasn’t going to think about that.
Lindsey turned to the others. “Don’t you think her hair would look great short?”
The ladies nodded in agreement, all except Iris, who said, “I like it long.”
Lindsey leaned over until her face was only inches from Breezy’s and lowered her voice. “Trust me. You would be the belle of the ball.”
“Don’t you mean the belle of the Mayor’s Gala?” Dixie giggled. “And you would look adorable, Breezy. The single men wouldn’t be able to stay away. Don’t y’all think so?”
Lindsey straightened. “So what do you say? Will you let me cut it?”