Page 139 of And Now, Back to You

I hear the rustle of sheets as they presumably settle into Jackson’s bed. “What are you guys watching, anyway?”

“None of your business,” Jackson’s voice booms from somewhere in the background. Both girls scream and the sound ricochets around my bedroom.

“You scared us!” Penelope screeches.

“You’re in my room!” Jackson laughs back. I hear the muffled thud of a pillow thwacking into something. One voice asking, Are we going to have snacks with this movie? Then Jackson’s voice, closer to the speaker, We aren’t having snacks. You are going to bed. Some static as the phone returns to its owner.

“Still with me?” Jackson asks. The girls chatter happily in the background and I imagine the three of them tucked together.

I smile. “I’m still with you.”

BMORESERIOUS: Do you think Jackson and Delilah would consider covering perfectly normal weather conditions together?

BMORESERIOUS: I miss them.

CHAPTER 35

DELILAH

“Hey.” Gianna’s face peeks over the edge of my half-crooked cubicle wall. Keith has moved me three times this year, and I’m currently squished between the watercooler with a perpetual leak and the air-conditioning unit that doesn’t stop sputtering cold air, even when it’s subzero temperatures outside. “I have something to tell you, but I need you to not freak out about it.”

“Well, when you put it like that”—I tuck my pen behind my ear—“I am absolutely going to freak out.”

Gianna once shared the gruesome details of a major investigative case by blurting out the murderer’s MO in the middle of a bagel breakfast, then nonchalantly asked someone to pass her the lox. If she’s spooked, then I probably will be too.

“Well,” she says, edging around the flimsy wall and collapsing into the chair I stole from the kitchen. “Don’t.”

I eyeball her jumping knee and the frazzled state of her ponytail. She chews on the corner of her lip and stares at me, eyes a touch too wide.

“How fast can you tell me?” I minimize the programs on my computer and lock the screen. “I have a meeting with Keith in ten minutes.”

“Keith,” she hisses.

“Yes, that guy who signs all our checks.” I swivel in my chair, kicking off the bunny slippers I keep under my desk and trading them for my stilettos instead. “He’s actually been fine since I got back. I think maybe this is the start of a truce.”

Gianna’s lips twist. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t trust him.” She scratches above her eyebrow. “You know I don’t like to share all of my information before I have it.”

“Okay, but—”

“But,” she stresses, “you were right about him trying to sabotage the trip. I did trace that cancellation email back to him. And I also found out that he had the production team tap in early to one of your broadcasts.” She stares at me. “You know. The one where the whole city heard you making out with weather boy?”

My cheeks heat. “Keith was trying to embarrass me.”

“He’s up to something. I just don’t know what.” Gianna plucks at her bottom lip. “I’m following a couple of leads. I’ll report back to you when I untangle it.”

“Great. Thank you.” I stand and straighten my skirt, only for Gianna to yank me back down to my seat. “Did you have something else to talk to me about?” I ask.

She nods. One sharp, jerky movement.

“Okay.” I give her my full attention, waiting. She avoids my gaze, studying her chipped nail polish instead. “What is it?” I prod.

She sucks in a deep breath through her nose and releases it slowly. “I’m just—give me a second.”

Alarm has me shuffling forward in my half-broken chair. “Gianna,” I whisper. “What’s going on?”