Fourth Down (Portland Pioneers 1)

The following day, I find myself in Leon’s office, sitting across from him. He called me in and said he had an urgent matter to discuss with me. Instant fear and excitement washed over me. These two emotions do not complement each other. At all.

To make matters worse, I’ve ignored the text messages and phone calls from Julius. I purposely didn’t run this morning out of fear he’d be outside my door, or he’d catch up with me on the path and force me to talk to him when I’m not ready. I don’t know what to say or how to tell him what I’m feeling. I don’t want to be a side chick or the woman that tore a family apart. But I also feel like what Julius and I started to build had the potential to be amazing.

When Leon requested we meet, I almost asked him if we could FaceTime so that I could continue to hide from Julius. I know I’m being ridiculous and need to grow up. I need to be an adult about things, but I honestly don’t know what to say to Julius. First, he hates me, then he likes me, then we sleep together, and then he disappears for a few days. When I think we’re on the same page, his wife returns. Now what? I honestly don’t know where I fit when it comes to Julius. z

Leon Woolworth is not a big man, but his presence is massive. I tower over him, without my heels on, and right now, I feel like I’m two feet tall by the way he stares at me. I swallow hard, waiting for him to say something. In my opinion, he’s a bit dramatic. He picks up a piece of paper, sets it down, picks it up again with a heavy sigh, and swivels back and forth in his chair.

“You applied for another job,” he finally says. If I thought there was tension in the room before, it thickened my one hundred percent with those words. I open my mouth to say something, but words fail. Leon sets the piece of paper he’s holding down. I crane my neck to see what it is and find that it’s blank.

What in the hell!

“I get it,” he says. “National TV. It makes sense. But I have one question.”

“Okay?” My question comes out meekly, and I have to clear my throat.

“What is wrong here?”

“Nothing,” I tell him instantly. “Absolutely nothing, Mr. Woolworth. The only reason I applied was to see if they’d even consider me. I love my job, the crew, everything. I simply had to appease my own curiosity.”

“Do you need more money?”

I feel like when someone asks you this question—there is only one possible answer: yes!

“I will never decline more money, but my application wasn’t about that. National has always been my goal, and when the opportunity presented itself, I submitted my resume. Nothing more. I honestly thought they’d skim over me for someone more seasoned.”

Leon frowns. “Clearly, you don’t know your worth. Let’s work on that, okay?”

I nod, not clear on what’s happening here.

“Anyway, they want to do a live interview.”

“A live interview? What does that mean?”

“They’d like you to come on location with them. It seems Mr. Camden Porter requested to have you shadow him. Normally, with these types of interviews, you’d fill in for someone who is going on vacation or leave, so this one seems out of the ordinary. I’m inclined to tell them no because I don’t want to lose you, but I’ve never been the type of person to hold people back. I’m here to help you grow, Ms. LaRosa.” Leon pauses and folds his hands together. “However, I’m not letting you go without a fight. You are a valuable asset to my station, and I want to keep you. So, I suggest you go on this assignment, fail and come back where you are loved, cherished, and needed. Am I clear?”

His words sink in slowly. From the mention of Cam’s name to Leon’s love for me, I find myself stumbling over my thoughts. What is going on in my world right now?

“Are you just going to sit there?” Leon asks.

“I’m sorry, I’m just confused.”

Leon smiles brightly. “Go home and pack, Ms. LaRosa. You’re going on assignment.”

I leave Leon’s office and head to mine. I’m not going home because I have work to do, and I need to ask Camden what the hell is going on. By the time I reach my dressing room, my phone chimes with an incoming text. It’s from the Weather Channel with my itinerary and flight information.

“How is this my life right now?”

The next chime is a text from Peyton: Are you on your way?

Shit. I forgot about lunch. I text her that I’m running late but will be there shortly. It’s a good thing I’m going to see her because I need some advice.