I’d gotten drunk with my mother. A smile curled around my lips. It had been fun. And I’d come to understand a different side to her and her work.
Shit. I needed to call Joan.
I reached for the phone balanced precariously on my bedside table and sat up, my feet dangling from my bed.
It was almost eight, which meant I’d probably catch Joan at her desk before Bernie tumbled in in about twenty minutes.
I pressed call and it didn’t even ring before she answered. “Hey, Joan, I was hoping you could do me a favor and delete the email I sent Bernie last night. The one with the Nathan Cove profile attached.”
“The one from six thirty last night?” she asked.
“Yeah. That’s the one. I’m going to send him a revised version.”
“Oh, you’re too late for that. He trashed something last minute and ran your story instead.”
A wall of nausea hit me that had nothing to do with the stale wine sitting across the room from me.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Certain,” Joan replied. “He was delighted with it. And relieved he had something. I can send you a link if you like. It’s on the website too.”
Of course it was.
“That’s okay. I’ll find it.”
“Congratulations on your first article at the Post.”
My smile was more of a wince and I tried my best to sound lighthearted when I thanked her and hung up.
What was I going to do? I pressed the heels of my hands over my eyes and then fell back onto the bed, trying to think of a solution. Perhaps I could speak to Astro’s chairman. Perhaps I was overreacting, and no one would actually read the piece.
My phone pinged again and I swiped the screen to see about twenty times the messages I would normally have overnight.
Oh God. That couldn’t be good. As I scrolled through them, I saw lots of congratulatory messages. Then one from Gretel. It simply said Call me. And then in among them there was one from Nathan.
My heartbeat trampled across my chest like horses in the Grand National. Had he regretted the things he’d said to me yesterday? Or had he just read the profile?
I clicked on the message and one line filled my phone screen: The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
My heart dove to my feet. His disappointment was a physical weight on my chest.
If only what he was saying was true and I’d taken my mother’s advice before pressing send on that bloody email.
As quickly as I could, I got ready for work and dashed out of the house to the tube. On top of everything else, there was no way I was going to let Craig announce in the staff meeting that I was sleeping with Nathan. I’d learned my lesson as far as keeping secrets was concerned. I was going to tell Bernie myself before Craig got to him. He’d be able to see for himself that it hadn’t compromised my work.
One good thing about still living with my parents was that it was only four tube stops to work. By some miracle I was at my desk just as people started filing into the Monday staff meeting. I’d have to catch up with Bernie afterward.
“Congratulations on the article,” Cindy said as she headed toward the meeting.
“Yes, your very thorough research paid off, Madison,” Craig said as he came up behind me.
I glanced over at Bernie’s office. Had Craig already told him about me and Nathan?
Bernie’s frame filled the doorframe and he scanned the office, his gaze landing on me. “Madison,” he bellowed. “Get in here. Joan, I’m going to be a couple of minutes late to the meeting. Can you make sure everyone has a copy of the Sunday edition?”
Craig must have got to him. Why else would he delay a staff meeting? He didn’t want me in there. He was going to sack me before I even had a chance to explain.
How could I have been so stupid? Why had I thrown this dream job away for a few stolen moments with Nathan? I deserved everything coming to me.
Joan scurried past, her expression neutral. I bet she’d seen this a thousand times before—some journalist shooting themselves in the foot and getting fired.
“Hi, Bernie,” I said as I stepped into his office.
“Great work on the Nathan Cove article. It was a really fresh perspective and I liked that you didn’t make him out to be a victim or a saint. Very well done.”
“Thank you,” I said, waiting for the but.
He looked up at me from his desk. “Take a seat.”
Here it was.
“I got some news today,” Bernie said as he scribbled into his notebook.
I wasn’t going to deny it. On top of everything, I wasn’t going to lie to my boss today.
“I’ve been talking to the board,” he said. “And I’ve managed to secure some extra budget. I’m going to create a new staff writer position. I want you on the payroll.”