The Stopover (The Miles High Club 1)

“You’re going to love it here.” She pulls me through the office by the hand. “Here is your office.”

I smile, surprised. “I get my own office?”

“Of course you do.”

I look around the little office. It’s definitely no management top floor, but it suits me just fine. There’s a window and a desk and a chair in the corner. It’s kind of homey. I turn to her. “Thank you for taking me on. I am so grateful.”

Athena smiles and rubs my arm. When I called her asking for a job, she never once asked what happened with Miles Media or my relationship with Jameson. But I know that she knows that I’m probably broken with nowhere else to go, and running home with my tail between my legs isn’t an option.

She’s right.

I’m going to make it up to her; I’m going to be the best damn reporter that she has ever had.

“I’ll leave you to it.” She smiles. “Staff meeting at ten to introduce you to everyone. We have welcome doughnuts.”

I smile. “Thanks, that would be great.”

She disappears down the corridor, and I take a seat at my new desk and look around the lonely space.

I miss Molly and Aaron . . . and the buzz of Miles Media.

Jameson

“With this projection here, the forecast is a growth of ten percent over the next eighteen months.” Harrison from finance taps the graph on the projector whiteboard as he addresses the board meeting.

The table is alive with chatter and enthusiasm. The comeback strategy from the drama over the last four months is alive and well.

Me . . . I’m miles away.

I can’t concentrate . . . I can’t think . . . I feel like I can’t breathe.

Maybe I’m not okay.

Emily started her new job today, and I wanted to call her and wish her luck.

I couldn’t sleep thinking about it and even picked up the phone a few times. I drop my head.

But what’s the point . . .

I wonder if she ran this morning. Did she wear her runners that she said have motors on them? I smile softly to myself as I remember Elliot thinking I was talking about Zuckerberg having the motorized runners.

Idiot . . .

I twist in my chair to stretch my back. I need a massage.

Emily doesn’t like me getting massages. I think back to the kind of massages I used to get, and it seems like another lifetime ago.

BE—Before Emily . . . stop it.

“Jameson will be addressing that in the morning.”

I look up, lost. What are they talking about?

The board members around the table all stare at me as they wait for my reply. My eyes flick to Tristan for guidance.

“When you fly to Seattle tonight.” He raises his eyebrows as a gentle reminder.

“Yes.” I nod. “That’s right.”