Just a Girl - Becky Monson Page 0,29
That would be my luck. I find this man who so far seems like what I’ve been waiting for my whole life, as cheesy as that sounds, and he’d have to leave.
His words ring in my ears as I sit here, waiting for him to get back. Your appearance is the least interesting thing about you. Is that really true? I mean, obviously looks and appearance should be only a small part of a relationship—initial attraction and all that. Have I put so much emphasis on that that I’ve forgotten that there’s so much more?
“I’m so sorry,” I hear Henry say, and look up to see him standing next to the table. “There’s been a bit of an . . . emergency with my old job. It’s a long story. I promise to explain later. I just need to run back to the hotel and continue this call. I’m so sorry to cut this short.” He opens his wallet and throws some money down on the table as I scoot out of the booth.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, feeling my stomach churn. What if his old job has gotten wind of the new one? What if they’re calling right now to offer him more money or another title or something? What if it’s something he can’t say no to? Could this all end before it really starts?
Don’t get ahead of yourself, Quinn.
“I think so,” Henry says. “I’ll tell you more soon.” There’s an urgency to his tone as we walk out of the restaurant.
As soon as the door opens, the Orlando heat wraps around me, creating instant dew on my face.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Henry says, reaching over and grabbing my hand. He pulls me toward him and places a kiss on my forehead. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I say, giving him my best everything-is-fine smile. “Go. Go take your call.” I shoo him away with my hand.
He smiles at me and then looks down at the phone he’s clutching in his hand, and then he turns and walks away.
Chapter 8
It’s quiet when I enter the newsroom the next day and head straight to my desk. There’s an odd energy in the room, and I can feel it surrounding me, penetrating the air. Like a storm brewing.
I brush it off, thinking maybe it’s me, bringing my bad energy into the room after my date with Henry last night ended so abruptly. No kisses. And I had been really looking forward to those kisses. Imagining them on repeat in my head.
I look over to the area of the newsroom where the producers usually sit, but none of them are there right now. Which isn’t so out of place, they’re probably in a meeting. Some of the interns are standing in a group, heads popping out every so often to look around the room and then bobbing back into the huddle. Like groundhogs checking whether it’s safe to come out or not.
There’s definitely something suspicious going on.
Is there another blooper reel out? Please, no. Is this about me? Even as I try to make it about myself, the fact that no one is searching me out makes me think otherwise. What’s going on?
I walk over to my desk and sit down in my chair, rolling myself toward my desk as I move the mouse to awaken the screen. I Google myself and nothing comes up. Nothing new, at least.
I expect Jerry to come slithering around here at any moment, so I spend my time reading the latest email from Grace Is Amazing.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Dress
That blue dress is not doing you any favors. Who picks out your clothes?
Only trying to help,
Grace
Today, I’ve decided that along with her cats and her housecoat, my dear friend Grace lives in an abandoned trailer. And she has rotted teeth.
Your appearance is the least interesting thing about you.
I wish Grace thought that. All she seems to care about is my appearance.
I look across the room; the interns are still huddled, and the area where the producers sit is still empty. The energy in the room is still strange. I see Moriarty is now here, and she’s talking to Alexis—the producer for the evening show. They look to be talking intently, their heads leaning in toward each other, their voices low.
She looks over at me, and I’m not quick enough to drop eye contact. She gives me her best smirk and then goes back to talking to Alexis.
I can’t wait for Jerry any longer. I need to