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With a little help from William, the guy managed to roll off and sit up to brush the dirt from his feathers. “Didn’t expect that to happen.”
“Makes two of us.” William stood and helped him to his huge feet. “What was that all about, anyway?”
Rooster dude wobbled as he stood, tugging the costume head back on. “Method acting, man. Chickens don’t talk.”
“Gotcha. Well, dedication to the craft. Can’t deny that,” William said.
William picked up his microphone and shook the dust off the KDVX station flag wrapped around it.
Just like that, he had added one more tick-mark to his father’s list of Things William Managed to Screw Up. If he couldn’t handle a simple interview, how the hell would he prove he had the grit to run the family company? His father still hadn’t forgiven the debacle William’s foray into reality television caused, and that was a decade ago.
It didn’t need to be so complicated.
Move back to hometown? Check.
Smooth the way to inherit family broadcasting company on upcoming thirtieth birthday? Check.
Interview an uncooperative man in a rooster suit? Nope. Not in the plan.
William rolled the sleeves of his collared shirt to his elbows. His jeans were covered in dirt from the fall, and his whole body seemed to itch in the stale summer air. Parched breaths filled his lungs as he helped the crew pack up cameras and load bags of equipment into the news van.
“Thanks for helping out today,” said Al, the cameraman, as he collapsed a leg on the tripod. “You’re a lifesaver.”
William shrugged. Lifesaver? No. “Only a little teamwork.”
The reporter scheduled for the interview hadn’t shown so William helped out when the crew was in a pinch.
“Hey, you see Parker yet?” William tossed the microphone into an open bag. Over an hour had come and gone since he planned to meet his oldest, best friend here. Parker was his last shot at a place to crash tonight.
The cameraman grunted and pointed toward the crowd surrounding the news van.
Parker emerged with a smirk. “That is one baked chicken.”
In his overpriced suit, Parker had to be roasting. Unlike William, no sign of sweat appeared anywhere. Always dressed his best, Parker exuded Ivy League authority as the station manager.
“About tonight.” William squirmed a bit.
“Man, I told you, out by five,” Parker said. “I hate to do it, but I have to. Your dad’s clear on this, and right now he’s my boss.”
“I can’t believe you’re on his side. He has his hooks in the whole town. I searched everywhere for a place to live today. I couldn’t even get a room at the Pillow Talk Motel.” William scraped a hand over his hair.
Parker held up his palms and backed away, frustration etched in the lines around his mouth. “I’m Switzerland here. Neutral. I need my job. Talk to him.”
William ground out the words, “Not happening.”
“Your call.” Parker shrugged. “See you Monday at the station.”
Over a decade of friendship, and that’s all William got. He didn’t want to add his family drama to Parker’s plate, but was it so wrong to want a little backup?
It seemed that everyone in town had received a don’t-rent-to-my-long-lost-son decree from his father. Joe Covington always got what he wanted, and now he wanted to keep tabs on his son by forcing him to move back under his roof. Hell, it wasn’t William’s fault his mother left Crestone Broadcasting to him instead of his father.
William massaged the ache in his temples as his last option drifted away. Whatever pride he had packed when he moved to Confluence vanished.
He walked the three blocks to Love’s Travel Stop where he’d left his truck. He lowered the tailgate and sat. Forget about proving to everyone he could run his mother’s company. At this point, he couldn’t even find a place to live. His only option at the moment was a two-hour commute from a hotel in the next county over, but he wouldn’t be surprised if his dad’s influence reached across the state to Denver.
Nearby, a kid messed around with rocks and a slingshot on the small grassy area bordering the convenience store. A large dog dripping slobber barked and bounded around the boy’s feet. The mutt appeared to be the unfortunate offspring of a one-night stand between Sasquatch and a grimy kitchen mop. At the release of the slingshot, he chased the rock across the patch of lawn.
Something near the gas pumps caught the mutt’s attention. His ears perked, and he barked once.
