He was going to have to take her word for it, but the whole thing still made him incredibly nervous. “Just take care of yourself, Brooklyn. No matter what, I care about you.” He wanted to kiss her, at least a peck on the cheek, but Georgia was about to insert herself into the conversation.
“Ms. Monroe.” Georgia stuck out her hand. “I’m Georgia Carle from the network news division. Thank you for coming in today and speaking with Alec. We appreciate the chance to have your very first interview.”
Brooklyn looked Georgia square in the eye. “I hope you finally give Alec the job in news he deserves. You’d have to be an idiot to ignore the talent that’s right in front of your face.”
Alec stifled a snicker. God bless Brooklyn and the moments when she threw her filter out the window.
“I’ll take that under advisement. Thank you,” Georgia said, forcing a super fake smile. “I believe our producers would like to speak to you. We’re hoping you’ll come back on the show for perhaps an appearance with a lighter tone. Something a bit more fun, but still baby related.”
“Oh, okay. Not sure what that might be, but I’m game for anything.” Brooklyn cast Alec one final glance. “Bye, Alec. I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, Brooklyn. Thanks again.”
And just like that, Brooklyn sauntered over to one of the show’s segment producers, then disappeared with her through the studio doors.
“Well? What did you think?” Alec asked, turning to Georgia.
“You did a solid job. Not the most probing questions.” She bunched up her lips and her vision narrowed. “I can’t help but feel like you could have put her on the spot a little more than you did.”
Alec shoved his hands into his pockets, if only to disguise his balled-up fists. “And more than eighty percent of our viewership is female. I don’t think they want to see me get pushy with a woman, especially one who’s so clear about her desire to have a baby on her own terms.”
Georgia let out a tut, which Alec swore was accompanied by a wispy puff of smoke. “I suppose you have a point.”
Alec knew he had to take advantage of the road Brooklyn had started paving for him. “All I’m saying is that it was your call to have Brooklyn appear onGood Day. If you want a probing interview, this isn’t the place for it. Now if you give me a shot at an interview forThe Sunday News Hour, then we can talk about something that has a little more teeth to it.”
“Fair enough. I will speak to the producers and see if we can come up with something. But I want to make sure you understand that a correspondent job is not like what you have right now.Good Day USAis cushy compared to that. This show gives you time for an actual life.”
“No point in having an actual life if I don’t do something meaningful with it. I want this. Bad.”
“Okay, then. Message received, loud and clear. But let’s not get carried away. We’ll see how the story goes over with viewers.”
Georgia walked off set, leaving Alec alone with his thoughts—never a good idea. He wanted this shot at the news division more than anything. But he couldn’t stop thinking about everything Brooklyn had said, and about how disappointing it was that they couldn’t get it right when they’d had a chance. Now she wanted a baby, and there were thirty-seven guys vying for a chance to make her happy.
Chapter Nine
“This is getting completely bonkers,”Brooklyn said to her sister Virginia. They were in Brooklyn’s office, having just wrapped up a quick brainstorm session on future Posh Post boxes. They’d carved out an hour for the task, which was enough time for Brooklyn to receive a whole new batch of emails.
“More guys?” Virginia asked. “How many now?”
“I don’t even know. I stopped counting at six hundred.”
“And how many of these suitors are creepers wanting to have a tie to you because you’re famous?” She used much-deserved air quotes when delivering that last word.
“Too many. Let me just say, the term ‘internet influencer’ has been thrown around a few times. Some of these men sent resumes like they’re applying for a job.”
“Well, youarea piece of work.”
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
“At least they didn’t all send gifts.” With a nod, her sister gestured toward the growing pile of teddy bears, baby clothes, and other unsolicited tokens of affection, including several copies ofWhat to Expect When You’re Expecting. “We don’t have the space.”
“I need to post a sign in the lunchroom and let people know they can take whatever they want.” Brooklyn shook her head as she glanced at the exceedingly wordy message she’d received from someone named Chad in Ohio. Her eyes glazed over the minute she hit an extended patch of poor grammar. Chad was probably a very nice man, but who was she kidding? She didn’t have time to vet himorcorrect his spelling. She barely had time to pee.
Plus, she needed to be honest with herself. The few times she’d replied to any of the men who’d wandered into her inbox, it had felt incredibly strange. Even when a somewhat normal back-and-forth materialized, it was all so detached and cold. There was no chance for a real spark, a not-so-innocent touch, or the holy grail of flirting—that moment when you lock eyes and feel like your entire body is on fire. She didn’t want to associate her baby with such an utter lack of real-life affection. But was she going to feel any better about a sperm donor? She had her doubts, but she supposed she didn’t have a choice. She’d made an appointment for a consultation at a fertility clinic, but the first time slot she could get was weeks away, in early November right after Halloween. Yet more waiting.
“Hey. I was hoping I could be here for your lunch with Lela Bennett, but I forgot that Dallas’s class is at the end of their unit on the ocean,” Virginia said. “They’re doing a little play in the classroom. He’s a fish.”
Brooklyn’s shoulders dropped. “Aww. You didn’t tell me about that. I want to go. I hate missing special events like this.”
