Page 18 of And Now, Back to You

It’s the worst.

“Let’s talk it out, buddy.” I give him a dark look and he chuckles, sprawling himself in my spare chair like he has no intention of leaving anytime soon. “Bit by bit. What’s your biggest holdup?”

“Delilah,” I bite out immediately.

Aiden grins. “Ah, yes. The weather woman you love to hate.”

“I don’t love to hate her.” I don’t even hate her, but no one believes me when I say it. Maybe it’s because I descend into a grunting, groaning asshole whenever her name is mentioned. Maybe it’s because we argued about weather models for half our meeting on Tuesday. Maybe it’s because the prospect of working with her sent me into a catatonic tailspin, and I sat silently in my car for close to three hours. “I just find her irritating.”

“Because she doesn’t like spreadsheets? Because she does things differently than you? I think she’s fun.”

“Fun,” I repeat.

Aiden nods. “She does a good job with the weather, when they actually let her report on it. The two of you are actually more alike than you think.” I take an oversized bite of cookie. “You’re both massive nerds.”

“You’ve been watching her reports?”

“Why did you say that like I’m cheating on you?”

“Because you should come to me for your weather reports. Not Delilah.” I grab up a half-crumpled piece of paper wedged under my pencil cup and thrust it at Aiden. “Look at this. I found it taped to my car window this morning. She wants me to pay for the turtle suit.”

I thought it was a parking ticket. But then I saw it was stuck to my window with a wad of chewed gum and knew immediately who it was from.

Aiden’s forehead crinkles in confusion. “The what?”

“Her turtle suit. She wants me to pay to have it dry-cleaned, even though she was the one who ruined it when she ran into me.”

Aiden looks delighted. “Is she leaving you notes on your car now?” He reaches for it. “Good for her.”

“No.” I yank the note away, thrusting it in the top drawer of my desk. “Not good for her.”

“Jackson,” he sighs. “You have got to relax.”

“I am relaxed.”

“You are hunched over your desk and shoveling cookies into your mouth like a troll. When I came in here, you were muttering under your breath about low-pressure systems. You are not relaxed.”

I tug off my glasses and toss them on the desk, digging my palms against my eyes until I see spots. I hear the creak of leather as Aiden shifts in his chair. The slow slide of the cookie box against the desk as he seizes my moment of weakness for his own advantage.

“Do you want me to coddle you, or be honest?”

“You’ve never coddled me a day in your life,” I grumble.

Aiden snickers. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Maggie won’t force you. It’s a good opportunity for the station, but we’ll have better. Our numbers are strong. This isn’t the same situation as last year.”

Last year, when we were so close to having to shut down completely. We’re better than we were, but not by much. I’m the one who runs the numbers. I know exactly how thin of a line it is between us staying on the air, and everyone looking for new jobs.

I feel the press of that truth like a weight in the middle of my chest. I struggle with choosing my own comfort when other people are depending on me. If this arrangement will benefit the station, I’m not sure how I’ll be able to say no. Which is exactly the issue I’ve been wrestling with for the past forty-eight hours.

“But if the only reason you have for not doing it is Delilah, well—are you really going to let someone who infuriates you dictate your behavior?”

I clench my jaw so tight my teeth grind together. “No.”

“You sure? Because that’s what it looks like.” He plucks another cookie from the box with a smug look on his stupid face. “It looks like you’re afraid of a five-foot-nothing woman who dresses in amphibian costumes.”

“Turtles are reptiles, you idiot.” I scrub my hand against the back of my head. “And I meant no, that’s not the only reason I have for not agreeing to Maggie’s plan.” I swallow heavily, my mouth going dry just thinking about it. “I don’t want to be on television.”

“Why?”