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“I’ve got cell reception,” I stand up straighter and blow out a breath. “But sometimes, I regret the fact that I do.”
“Let me guess. Real estate agent? Tele-marketer?”
“Reporter,” I reply, pausing to tilt my head up to look at the clear blue skies.
After a few more deep breaths, I glance back at Danielle. She has pushed herself off the tree and is guzzling water like her life depends on it.
Then she unzips her fanny pack and takes out a pack of wipes. She uses one to wipe her face. “Hey, don’t hate the whole profession just because of one asshole.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re a reporter.”
Because I would hate to have to be careful around her.
I don’t need one more complication to navigate.
“I’m a journalist, not a reporter.” She crumples up a wipe and tucks it into her pocket. “There is a difference between the two, you know.”
“Sure.”
“I can see that you don’t believe me.” Danielle takes a step forward and sighs. “This is why I don’t usually tell people what I do. You’d think I had some kind of rare disease or something.”
I chuckle. “As long as you’re not here to write a story about me.”
Danielle snorts and puts away her pack of wipes. “Of course not. Considering that I didn’t even know who you were when I met you or came here. Besides, I don’t do gossip or whatever you’d call a story about you. I write hard-hitting, award-winning pieces.”
“You actually write puff pieces, don’t you?” I tease.
Danielle groans. “I don’t know how you figured that out, but yes. For now, but I’m working on convincing my boss that I can do better. She’s not the easiest person in the world to convince though.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
Danielle reaches into her fanny pack and unfolds a map. “I hope so. I would hate to be shoe-horned into something that was meant to be temporary. I only started writing puff pieces because I needed more time at home with my husband.”
I ignore the pit of disappointment in my stomach. “How did that work out for you?”
“It didn’t. It didn’t do me any good. Now I’m divorced. And I’m not where I want to be in my career.”
Hope surges through me as I step forward and take the map out of her hands.
When I hand it back to her, right side up, and smile, my hands linger near hers. “It’ll be easier to figure it out if you read it like this. Also, you should probably take a guide with you, since it’s your first day.”
Danielle places a hand on her hips. “I know I’m a city girl, but I’m sure I can handle wandering the grounds.”
“That’s the spirit. I’m impressed. Want some company?”
I should head back to my office and start going through the mountain of paperwork and unanswered emails.
Yet, I can’t bring myself to walk away from Danielle. Or leave her to fend for herself.
When she looks at me like that, she makes me forget who I am, or what I’m meant to be doing.
Fuck.
How can this woman have such a hold on me when I’ve only known her for a few hours?
Danielle tries to hide her smile. “As long as you don’t spend the whole walk insulting my profession, we should be good to go.”
“I make no promises.” We start toward the trail.
