Page 113 of Strictly Pleasure


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“Hang in there,” Ava says. “It’s going to be okay.”

The problem is, I’m not so sure it will be.

* * *

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Your weather forecast

Dear Liam,

The sun will shine all day in both West Virginia and in Misty Lakes. Temperatures will top out at the mid-eighties and the humidity is moderate for this time of year.

There’s no rain in the forecast and tomorrow is shaping up to be just as glorious.

And I’m sorry.

So sorry.

I know you don’t want to talk to me right now. But I need to talk to you. Please call me when you get a chance.

Be safe.

Sophie

I hit send, making damn sure I’ve sent it to the right email address, and then I turn to the satellite maps, jotting down notes about the weather direction for the next few days. I’m working on autopilot, loading up today’s social media updates so Michael doesn’t have to. And because if I sit here doing nothing I’ll go out of my mind.

He hasn’t come back from the studio, even though the broadcast finished a while ago. I can’t help but feel jumpy at what he might be up to.

Just after eight, Lisa puts her head around the door, blinking when she sees me sitting at my desk. “What are you doing here?” she asks. She’s carrying a venti coffee in a Styrofoam cup and has a huge rucksack slung over her shoulder. “Michael said you were in Virginia.”

“I came back.” I’m not sure if I’m supposed to say anything about the email. Or whether they’ll try to hush it. “There are a few things I need to do.”

“Michael said you were refusing to come back. That you were leaving him to clean everything up.”

“What?” I frown. Lisa walks inside the office, slinging her rucksack on the floor and perching on the corner of my desk.

“He was raging late last night,” she told me. “Ranting about how irresponsible you were. Said he had to call in legal and they were demanding a meeting with you but you wouldn’t come back from your weekend away.”

“That’s a lie. He told me not to come back.”

She blinks. “But you came.”

“I didn’t know what to do.” I look up at her. She’s sipping at her coffee but it’s obviously too hot, as she winces when it hits her tongue. “Did he tell you what happened?”

Her expression softens. “He told the whole damn station.” She must notice my face fall because she hurriedly adds, “not that there were many of us here last night. You know what it’s like on a Saturday night. Skeleton crew.”

Yeah, but that means everybody will know by tomorrow. “I’m going to lose my job,” I tell her. I’m blinking back tears again. I know that a job isn’t supposed to define who you are, but I’ve been here for so long that I think mine does. At least to some extent. An image of my dad’s proud face flashes into my mind.

He’s going to be devastated when he finds out. And I don’t want him to be. I don’t want anybody to be.

“You won’t. If anybody should lose their job, it’s Michael. He’s your boss, he’s the one who was supposed to be doing that report. If he wasn’t such a lazy bastard none of this would have happened.” She puts her cup down on my desk and reaches for my hand. “We’re all on your side. You know that.”

I glance at the clock. It’s only five minutes past eight. I should still be in bed. With Liam. In Eli’s cabin. The way he’d arranged it because he couldn’t bear to be apart from me for one night.

I should have gone to him. I should have told him. There was no excuse for not doing that.

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