Just a Girl - Becky Monson Page 0,49

falls over the space.

“Now, now,” Dwayne says, his booming voice overpowering Jerry’s. “We don’t need to argue about this. Stacey, that was uncalled for. Quinn,” he turns his attention to me, “would you be interested in doing the feature with the evening team? That would be extra work for you. Extra hours as well.”

Moriarty lets out a very frustrated-sounding sigh. A low, moaning cow sound. Fitting, since she’s a total cow.

This is an interesting turn of events. My helping out with a feature on the evening news never seemed like a possibility before. All the things I did with Holly’s feature were prerecorded and only promoted on the evening news. I’ve never been live during that time slot—the most coveted of news times. Was it because neither I nor Jerry had ever put up a stink in the past? We always just allowed it to happen without saying anything. It’s become a running joke between us. Could it have been this easy all along?

Evening news has always been my goal. I’d even take the morning. As much as I hate Moriarty for saying it, she’s not wrong. The midday news gets the lowest viewership. Maybe doing this would be a bit of a foot in the door? Maybe the evening viewers would love me and demand that I come back and take Moriarty’s place since they’re sick of seeing her for the past fifteen years. Maybe Grace Is Amazing doesn’t even watch the evening news. That would be a dream.

“She’s up for it,” Jerry says, answering for me.

“I’d like to hear what Quinn has to say,” Dwayne says to Jerry.

I look to Henry, whose eyes are on me, and I feel suddenly flustered. “I-I mean, I think—”

“I think we should just keep it with the evening team,” Henry pipes in, looking away from me.

“I’d have to agree,” Moriarty the cow says, the crap-eating grin back on her face.

“Well, it was technically Quinn’s idea, so I say if she wants to do it, she can,” Dwayne says.

“Exactly,” Jerry says, but his face is directed at Moriarty.

I feel something like hurt settle in my belly. Why would Henry want to keep it only with the evening team? Is the idea of working that close to me bothersome to him? Has his disinterest in me changed now to distaste?

The hurt feeling quickly changes to something else: anger. I guess he’s going to have to suffer, because I am totally in. A basket full of adorable kittens wouldn’t even be able to keep me away from this. Actually, I’m allergic to cats. A basket full of powdered sugar donuts wouldn’t keep me away from this.

I sit up straighter in my chair, my eyes focused on Henry’s. “I’d love to be part of this,” I say, throwing extra confident tones into my voice.

“Excellent,” Dwayne says.

Next to me, Jerry does a little cheer. I look over to see Moriarty’s eyes finding the ceiling again.

“I’ll let you and Stacey work out the details,” Dwayne says to me. “And you two can work with the interns to nail down everything, as well as your producers. Keep Henry abreast of all the details.” He turns to Henry, who gives him a quick nod. His face has turned from green to something a little more red. Henry does not look happy. This makes me even more confident in my decision.

Except for one tiny little detail . . .

I shake my head, confused. “Wait, so Mor—Stacey and I would be working together?” I say, and my armpits instantly start to sweat like I’ve just finished a marathon.

Dwayne nods. “Yes, I think it would be good to have the both of you on it.”

“But I thought—”

“You want to be a part of this, don’t you?” Dwayne asks me, his eyebrows lowered.

“Yeah . . . yes . . . I just thought . . .” I fumble my words, not sure what to say. I’ve been given a chance to be on the evening news; I should just shut my trap. Even if I have to work with Satan herself.

Moriarty snorts. “Well, this will be loads of fun,” she says, her tone full of sarcasm.

Dwayne looks to Moriarty. “Is there a problem here?” he asks.

“No,” says Moriarty, at the same time I say, “Not at all.”

The room is silent, everyone watching this exchange.

“Excellent,” Dwayne says, his deep bass voice breaking the silence. “Then I look forward to seeing how this all goes.” There’s a definite reprimand in his tone.

I feel my nostrils flare