The Good One (The Ones)

Chapter one

Kasey

IhateMondays.That’s all I can think while I’m rushing down the street in my heels. It seemed like a good idea when I put them on before leaving the house. I can already feel my hair turning into a giant puff ball like the ones I used to blow on as a kid and watch all those pretty little seeds fly away. The joys of having naturally wavy hair. This is what I get for having that third glass of wine with Abigail last night. Just one more glass, she said. It won’t hurt anything, she said. She was wrong. I hate being late, and even more than that I hate rushing. Dad taught me years ago if you’re not ten minutes early, you’re late. Now here I am running to work because my cab was stuck in traffic and moving at a snail’s pace. I decided to get out and make a run for it. I’ll be lucky if I get there twenty minutes late and before the skies open up and dump all over me.

I run into the lobby of my building just in time before the light sprinkle turns into a torrential downpour. Ha! I win!

“Not today, Satan!” At least one thing went right this morning.

“Good morning, Miss Albright,” Clara says, laughing under her breath, which she tries to hide with a sweet smile. Of course someone would be witness to my frazzled state while talking to myself. This day is off to a real bang.

“Good morning, Clara, and please, for the millionth time, call me Kasey.”

“I know, hon, but you can’t fault an old lady for being stuck in her ways.”

Clara has been working the front desk of my building, which houses the illustrious Philadelphia Sun, since before I was even a glimmer in my parents’ eyes.

“How’s the new grandbaby?” I ask, walking across the marble floor to the front desk.

“Oh my goodness, he’s just the sweetest little chunker.”

She’s pulling out pictures. No. I don’t have time to look, but come on, babies!

“So sweet.” I find myself getting wrapped up in looking at her pictures. In spite of my tardiness, I just can’t help myself.

“I know. I just want to love on him every time I see him. When are you going to have one of these little nuggets yourself?”

“Um, having a boyfriend first might help. I already have my hands full with my sister and mom, plus work and all that. A baby doesn’t really fit in there yet.”

“I know. That’s just the grandma in me wanting more babies around.”

I laugh at that one. She’s a grandma through and through. I might enjoy looking at her pictures, but I’m not hearing my biological clock ticking. At all. Clara puts her phone away in her giant bag that holds a gigantic ball of soft blue yarn with the knitting needles sticking out. Whatever she’s making looks like it will be warm and cozy for her new grandson. Too bad it’s springtime and summer is right around the corner, along with hot and sticky days.

“You better get up there, Kasey. Gus was in a mood this morning.”

“When is he not?” I laugh. My editor Gus was born in a mood. He’s been a newspaperman since I was in diapers and likes to make sure everyone around him knows he’s the last of his breed. I’m never late for work, but with my father’s voice in my head, I rush to the elevator bank and press the call button a few times for good measure. I know this has never made an elevator get anywhere faster, but what can I say? It makes me feel better.

“I’ll see you later, Clara. Kiss that baby for me.”

“Have a great day, dear.”

I grab the elevator and jog to my desk, throwing my bag and coat on my chair, then hurry to Gus’s office. The floor is already full of other reporters firing up computers or on the phone tracking down leads and the next big story. I love this job. It’s always exciting and fast-paced. The pay may be crap, but I’ve worked hard for my position and my reputation here.

In the center of it all is Gus’s office with windows instead of walls, so he can have a front stage view of his people. Or maybe he just likes to make sure we know he’s always watching us, making sure we aren’t wasting his time when the next hungry reporter is waiting in the wings for their shot at working for him.

“You’re late,” he so obviously points out to me when I open the door. Damn Clara and those adorable pictures.

“Sorry, Gus, it’s been one of those mornings. What have you got for me today?” I ask as I make my way over to the cheap black leather chair in front of his desk. Why waste money on furniture when the paper is too busy barely paying their reporters a livable wage. Thank goodness I don’t do this job to make millions.

“Donovan Hayes has a campaign press conference at his parents’ estate today and I need you to cover it.”

“Sounds good. I just love covering stories about rich bachelors running for office off their daddy’s name.” Oops, maybe getting snarky with your boss after being late isn’t the best idea, but come on.

“Don’t start with this again, Kasey. You’re new—”

“I’ve been here five years.”

“As I was saying, you’re new and have to walk before I’m going to let you run.”

“Gus, anyone who hasn’t been in the newspaper business for more than a decade is new to you.”

“Fair enough, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re going to cover the stories I tell you to cover when I tell you to cover them. I also want an in-depth piece on him, so set up an interview if you can get past his PR people.”

“Got it, boss.”

He doesn’t let it show whether he picks up on the sarcasm in my voice or not, but I’m going to assume he heard it. I’m not the most subtle when it comes to being stuck with stories I have no interest in writing.

“Now that’s the attitude I want to see from all my reporters.”

I internally roll my eyes at that one.