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“Barely, but yeah. I found a place.”
“All that time you spent as a kid trying to convince your parents to move away, and you still wind up here. Brilliant.” Parker sorted through the message slips.
“I’ve been around the world. All roads lead back to Confluence, and there’s no reason to put people here out of work if I don’t have to.”
“Still only two things to do in town. Chase tumbleweeds and women.” Parker grinned a wry smile.
“You never cared much for tumbleweeds,” William said mildly.
“Nope.” Parker full on smirked. “Neither did you.”
That was a long time ago. William stopped being the “next, please” guy as soon as he grew the hell up. He wasn’t that guy now. Not anymore.
On the television feed, a dog barked. A kitten hissed and jumped from the anchor’s arms to bolt across the set. Two mutts howled and charged after the cat. The man holding the leashes hurtled off the set behind them.
William shook his head at the screen until someone in the control room finally cut to a commercial break. “You’ve got a plan for that?”
“I’m working on one.” Parker moved to his chair. “The new morning producer’s really good. Hopefully she can turn things around.”
Lucy.
He’d barely gone ten minutes without her invading his thoughts, since he’d scraped her off the concrete of the gas station and waited with her for the glass repair guy.
“What do you know about Lucy?” William rested his elbow on the edge of the couch and kept his expression neutral.
Parker’s face hardened. “Oh no. I’ve seen that look in your eyes way too many times. Trust me, you don’t want to go there with staff.”
“Go where?” William played innocent.
Parker pointed at him. “Where you’re trying to go. She’s off-limits.”
“She’s funny, and pretty.” With freckles. I adore her freckles. And no way in hell was he going to be dictated to on who was off-limits when it came to his life.
“She’s a challenge.” Parker stared him down. “Drop whatever this thing is you’ve got going on in your head about her.”
William’s phone buzzed. “I’ve got to take this. My attorney.”
“Go for it.” Parker’s own phone rang.
William stood, turning his back to Parker. “This is William.”
“Are you sitting down?” his attorney, Dawn, asked breathlessly. “Because the judge just threw out your father’s final appeal. Crestone’s yours. No more appeals, no more court dates, this is it. The company transfers on your birthday, like your mother requested.”
William gripped the phone tighter. He had won.
Nearly a decade had passed since he’d left Confluence after the reading of his mother’s will. He had not returned, choosing instead to spend the next phase of his life proving himself a respectable newsman while attorneys and mediators sorted out the legalities of his inheritance.
And. He. Won.
William had shed tears when he heard his mother had died. He stood by her grave weeks later, numb, tired, and cold inside. Over the next years, he’d fought the image that damn reality show had created. The persona they’d created for him followed him everywhere. Confluence media had a heyday with it. His father had to deal with his reckless son’s behavior, when he should have been mourning his wife. And the whole time, William felt…nothing. Like he’d been the one who died.
Right now? The frigid vise gripping his heart started to melt.
“You there?” Dawn asked.
William swallowed the intense emotion threatening to spill. “Yeah, great news. Thank you. Really. Thank you.”
“I’ll be in touch with paperwork,” she replied. “Congratulations.”
