Page 51 of A Little Luck
“Are you saying nobody reads the paper?”
“Not at all!” He gives me a little squeeze. “I mean I don’t think they’ll read itthatclosely.”
“You don’t think Harold is going to notice a headline calling his dog a nutritious snack?”
I can hear him swallowing his laughter before answering. “Maybe he’ll think you’re saying Bo is hot… in a health-conscious way.”
“I’ve got to get to the office.” I push out of his arms, all the way out of the bed, pacing his room trying to find my pants as my phone starts buzzing. “All the subscription issues have been delivered. Maybe it’s not too late to get the rest off the newsstand. Where did you get this?”
He’s sitting up in the bed watching me with that panty-melting grin on his face. “I picked it up at the Pack-n-Save when I got the coffee.”
“I’ll never be able to get them all down, but I can try.” I stop pacing to face him. “Where are my pants?”
He steps out of the bed and grabs my fuzzy, beige PJ pants off the chair behind the door. “These right here on the chair?”
Shaking my head, I take them from him, quickly pulling them over my hips. “Would you check on Ryan for me? Bring him to the office if Britt and Aiden need a break.”
“I don’t think they ever need a break. Two little boys are better than one, don’t you know?”
“Still…” I’m on my way out the door, striding down the hall when he catches my hand.
“Hey.” His blue eyes turn serious. “I want this—what’s happening here. Okay?”
Nodding, I look down, swallowing my fears. “We need to talk.”
* * *
The tip linephone is ringing when I walk into the empty newspaper office, and my phone is still buzzing. What I wouldn’t give for a staff right now, and I think about Jemima’s question. Maybe she could be my office assistant.
Britt’s text is my first order of business.
Britt
Aiden would like you to reassure the public he won’t be running down jaywalkers with his truck.
She includes a laugh-crying emoji, but shame burns my cheeks.
Mom helped me with the headlines.
I include a sobbing emoji and hit send as I snatch up the phone.
“Eureka Gazette, Piper speaking.” I use my best, upbeat tone despite the cringe in my chest.
“I didn’t expect you to answer.” A huffy male voice is on the line, and I’m pretty sure I know who it is.
“Who were you expecting to answer?”
“I expected to leave a voicemail. It’s Harold Waters. I don’t like my dog being referred to as food. It’s cruel and disgusting and weird.”
“It’s none of that, actually.” My voice cracks, and I feel like I might throw up. “It’s simply a misplaced modifier… Bad grammar!”
“Either way, it definitely crossed a line, and I wonder if it’s because you’re in the pocket of the mayor. Everyone knows you and Britt Stone are best friends. Are you attempting to slur Bo’s reputation?”
“How dare you!” I go from nauseated to pissed at him for attacking my ethics. “I’ve always provided fair and balanced coverage of every issue in this town, as you well know. Why, I can’t even count the number of times I’ve given your business free coverage in my paper. To think you’d accuse me of being biased.”
My throat tightens, and I worry I’m not being entirely professional. Swallowing the rest of my tirade, I simply state the truth. “I had outside help with the headlines for this issue. I won’t make that mistake again.”
“Were you using artificial intelligence?”