The Love Experiment (Stubborn Hearts 1)

It took a while for the applause and shouts of Jack’s name to die down before he could speak. “It’s true what they say, you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone. Spin might only write about athletes who’ve gotten their jockstraps in a twist, but he’s right—journalism is changing; the rules, the way it’s consumed, how we produce it. Anyone with a social feed can break a story. Facts are less important than emotion, and the news that’s cheap to serve up is more entertaining than it is enlightening.”

Someone heckled, “You won’t believe how we used to write the news,” aping a headline style that was popular online. There was laughter, but it wasn’t a happy sound.

Jack went on. “We’ve entered the clickbait age and long-form, thought-provoking journalism is an endangered species. We’re saying too long, didn’t read. That made me a dinosaur even before today, but like the velociraptor, I didn’t see it coming.”

“Meteor takes out journalism, live at five!” another wit shouted. That got a hearty laugh, but it was black humor.

“I’m out, but you all have a job to do. Bring the city its news in the best, most comprehensive and engaging way you can. I may be off the payroll, but I’m not off the clock.” He paused and the room held its breath. “I lost my job, but I won the love of a great journalist and wonderful woman.”

He tipped his chin up to look for her in the crowd and smiled at the hoots and cheers. If he’d glimpsed her face he’d have seen it glistening with the tears she’d wanted to shed earlier. I love you, Jack Haley, in your darkest hour, in the moment your dream died and your worst fear came true, I love you all the more.

“I’ll be reading you.” Jack didn’t have a glass, but one was passed to him and he raised it. “To writing the news.”

There was a chorus of “To writing the news” as people bent their elbows to drink.

“Hear, Hear.”

“To the news.”

She wiped her face and looked around. She wasn’t the only one to feel this moment as something bigger than what’d happened to Jack, but she was the only one who’d live closely with its consequences both at work and at home.

Before she could make her way to Jack, Eunice appeared at her side. “You need to check your cell.”

“I saw some of the chatter on Jack’s.”

“You need to see this.” Eunice shoved her own cell in front of Derelie’s face and there it was, her An Officer and a Gentleman moment. Jack sweeping her off her feet in one slick move and stalking across the newsroom, as people scrambled to get out of his way or stood back applauding. She looked surprised and delighted, Jack looked strong and fierce; together they looked like true romance and whoever made this had captioned it Swoon.

“Oh my God.” Yes, she knew everyone had seen this go down, it was really no surprise to learn there was video and that it was well shot, but it was wild to see it in replay, to know she could have her own copy to keep.

“That’s not the OMG part.” Eunice took her cell back and switched apps, turned the screen so Derelie could see. “You’re trending.”

“Oh.”

“You and Jack are a meme.”

“My.”

“You made the evening TV news.”

“God.”

“Nine months from now Derelie will be the most popular baby name for girls.”

“No!”

Eunice laughed. “Your five minutes of fame have arrived.”

Her face was on fire. “My mom will have seen this.” Everyone back home would be talking about it.

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Apart from Jack—” and how drunk he might get tonight and how angry he might be tomorrow “—what should I be worried about?”

“What our editor-in-chief wants to do with it.”

Now her issue was less about getting to Jack than getting to Phil. She thanked Eunice and made her way to the bar where she’d last seen Phil. He was still there, beer in front of him, drinking with his back to a room full of people who worked for him and didn’t want to acknowledge him. It had to have taken courage to show up. She slipped onto the stool beside him. This was where she and Jack had first tried to get to know each other, two bar stools, a questionnaire. Nothing about that awkward, stilted exchange, where she’d almost kneed him in the manhood, would’ve lead her to believe they’d be a viral feel-good news story now.

Phil glanced at her when she sat down. “You did get the story.” Not the way anyone had envisaged. She shrugged and he laughed into his beer. “A fucking love experiment and it worked.”