by Jayne Blue
“Urgency can be all the difference, in news – in a newscast.”
The cool Miss Green was slightly rattled. Good. That was good news. “Urgency and intensity, number one and two on the list.” He made a check mark in the air.
“Well, let’s watch the news. It’s almost six. I want to see the live product today. Where do you suggest I do that?” Miss Green slid across him without touching him, quite a feat in the closet-sized edit bay, until she found herself in the hall.
“How about we watch in here?” Wes gestured towards the glass-walled news director’s office. “He’s out today. Most days, actually,”
The office was a mess. The news director was one of the biggest weaknesses of the newsroom, Wes thought. When he did show up, Pat Walters usually smelled of liquor. It would be interesting to see how Miss Green assessed the situation. Was she as tough as she tried to appear? Did she have the guts to fire someone?
They sat at a few chairs at the conference table cluttered with wrinkled paper and discarded coffee cups and turned on the newscast. Macy then turned on the competitors in the other two monitors.
Her undivided attention on the monitors gave him the chance to focus on her without seeming lecherous. He was certainly feeling lecherous, but no need to scare the woman.
Macy’s hair sat in soft waves that fell just to her shoulders. The auburn framed a pair of gorgeous green eyes that tilted slightly up at the corners. He followed the line of her turned up nose to a set of gorgeously full lips. He was imagining what they tasted like when she began to mumble at the screens.
“Get off that shot. Where’s the video? Why are they just standing there?”
Wes looked at the television. Apparently these were all things she was noticing as she watched WLUV Action News at Six. He wondered if she knew it seemed insane, her muttering.
But it was easy to ignore her incoherent utterings by letting his gaze follow her long neck to the hollow of her throat and the collar of her silk top. She’d ditched her blazer when the newscast started and the look of her blouse tucked into her pencil skirt had him shifting in his seat like a teenager. He was envisioning his hands gripping her by the hips. She brushed a hand through her hair, absently.
Ever since he’d set down roots in Grand City nothing had caught his eye, no woman even remotely got him going, much less challenged him. He’d taken a few different women to events in the last few years, but no one had ever blown him off course like this. Everything about Miss Green distracted him from the work at hand. The last thing he thought he’d be considering this morning was how to get the consultant naked. But that’s exactly what he was thinking about when he needed to be focused on ratings and demographics.
Miss Green had gotten up from her chair and had taken to pacing in front of the wall of televisions. She leaned on the desk for a minute and Wes noticed that while she was thin as a rail, her calves were muscled nicely, and he wondered absently if she were a runner. He speculated what her legs might feel like wrapped around his—uh oh, she was talking directly to him instead of muttering to herself.
“Is there any reason why, Mr. Thompson? Have you ever considered that?” Macy had caught him staring at her instead of the screen. But he was no dummy. He knew exactly what she’d asked. His rational brain could engage in conversation, even if other parts of him ached at the lovely sight of her.
“Just Wes, really,” he answered. Her eyes flashed momentarily. Was she trying not to blush? “Weather in the first block? Yes, that’s a good idea. You have free reign here, so get into the rundowns with the producers, coach the talent, whatever you think it takes—even staffing changes.”
“Do you have a live truck?” She’d recovered herself quickly, and was back to pacing in front of the monitors. Her heels made her calves flex, and he tried not to stare at the lean muscle that climbed up her leg, “The other stations in the market have three each. You need three.”
“We have one. And they don’t even use it half the time,” Sexy calves or no, Wes was not looking forward to the money this woman was already proposing he spend.
“I’m sure you’ve got a few reporters who are afraid of freezing up if they go live. It’s too important for the station, though,” Macy paused mid-step, shifting her focus, “But let’s get started with the basics. First, I’m going to meet the night crew. Do consider adding photographers, though.”
She was throwing ideas out like darts, “And yeah, your live situation is subpar, we really do need to get on that. You won’t win sweeps with one crappy live truck.”
“Perhaps you should spend a day here before you start adding hundreds of thousands of dollars to my budget?” Wes fired back. Her eyes flared, and this time there was no accompanying blush. All the women he knew were pushovers, but not this one. It was going to be very interesting with Macy.
“You’re going to have to spend money. Either that or start the garage sale now.” She didn’t back down.
Wes decided he’d buy just enough to keep her around for a bit. She didn’t need to know he’d pretty much decided to scrap this place. Heck, though, if she made an impact in ratings maybe he’d get a little money out of WLUV. A romp with the lovely Miss Green and liquidation for Thompson-Hardaway during this year of exile? It probably wasn’t what his father had in mind, but Wes figured he was just making the best of a bad situation.
Their brief battle was forgotten as Wes introduced Macy to the night crew, then he let her work. If he hovered over her she might spook and he actually did have calls to make.
“Stop in upstairs before you leave tonight,” Wes instructed her. He sensed she was the type that didn’t eat or sleep until a job was done. The dark little hollowed-out space under her cheek bones was a clue that food and sleep weren’t her main priority. He resolved to take good care of her while she was at his television station— in ways she didn’t even know she needed.
He was thinking about running his tongue over her sharp jawline and paused, mid-fantasy, realizing that was the first time he’d thought of it as “his” television station. Back to the fantasy, his tongue traveled from her neck to her… work. Back to work. Macy was talking again. What now?
“I probably won’t leave until after the eleven o’clock, are you sure?” her eyes met his. God, she was gorgeous. And he definitely sensed something flirty behind those cat eyes. It stirred him just as much as that strained button.
“I’m sure. I don’t want you walking to your car alone. The staff is all in the gated lot which is secure. You’re parked in the visitor area which is not. I’ll make sure you get to your care safely and tomorrow Mrs. King can get you parking pass for the gate.”
Did Miss Green let out an exasperated ‘harrumph’ as he walked away? Saucy, very saucy, he smiled to himself.
Wes stayed out of the way after that. He needed to do a little research on Miss Green. It was best to know more before he leapt, because the sight and scent of Miss Green made the leap a near certainty. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he walked back to his office. He’d been all over the world and in every type of board room. Who’d have thought that the most intoxicating woman he’d ever met would be delivered to the doorstep of this ramshackle, sentimental business he was tossing on the scrap heap?
WLUV might just live up to its call letters, after all.
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