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rookie," Newton retorts, gathering his papers. As he stands up, he eyes me disapprovingly and I slump
back in the chair, bracing for another attack. "Try to stay awake during the show, Bella. And do
something about the dark circles under your eyes. You look like hell."
Lacking the energy to hurl insults back at him, I stay quiet until he's out of the room, and then turn
toward Em. He doesn't look as mad as I expect& which makes me suspicious. I think he knows why he's
being punished.
"What's up Newton's ass this morning?"
"I may have left out a small detail when I told you about my night," he confesses sheepishly. Impatient, I
wave my hand for him to continue. "The other half of the epically bad blind date was Newton's sister."
My mouth drops open and I blink slowly several times while he snickers. "What the hell were you
thinking?" I finally scold, punching his arm.
"I got tricked into it. Newton had tickets to a show at The Crocodile and said I could have them if I'd take
her. I thought it would be harmless since she's only in town for a couple of days," he defends. Pouting,
he rubs the spot where I hit him. "Shit. That hurt."
"It was barely a tap."
"Not the kind of tapping I like," he jokes, flinching away when I aim for him again.
"Jesus. Are you fourteen?"
"On a scale of one to ten, baby. You just can't handle it."
"I don't want to handle it," I crack. Dimples on display, he stands, offering a hand to pull me up, too.
"Why'd you taunt him? He might've let you do the interview if you'd been civil."
"Nah. He wasn't gonna change his mind."
"I'm sor ."
"Don't apologize. I should have known better. Newton should have known better." He shrugs, clamping
one big hand on my shoulder as we walk into the hallway. "Hell, even his sister should have known
better. Dating someone who works with one of your family members never works out."
Well, not never. But I'm not arguing that point with him today. I hum instead, knowing he'll assume I
agree.
"Want to grab lunch later? I'll tell you the whole horrifying story."
"Sure. I can't wait to hear how Newton tricked you into it. You know he's hardly ever right."
"He's right about one thing. You really do look like hell this morning," he says teasingly, chuckling when I
elbow his side. "Whatever you did yesterday took a toll on you. I hope it was good."
Allowing myself a brief moment of recollection, I smile softly. Yesterday was the happiest, sweetest day
of my life. Even the harsh plunge into today's sleep-deprived, Newton-filled reality can't dampen the bliss
radiating from somewhere deep inside my chest.
"It was good, Em," I reply, leaning against him. "Epically good."
Recognizing that I'm exhausted, Newton seems to take delight in keeping me at the station for several
hours after the show is over. First, he summons Emmett and me to the sound booth to record teases
and commercials& for next week. Between takes, I retaliate by chomping on ice right in front of the
microphone. When Newton pulls his headphones away from his ears and glares at me through the
window into the control room, I raise my eyebrows, trying to look innocent.
"Oops," I say, feigning remorse. Once he puts the headphones back on, I crunch on the rest of the ice in
my mouth and swallow. Then I smile mockingly at him through the glass, giving a thumbs up. "Ready."
After we're finished in the booth, Newton derails the plans Emmett and I have for lunch by dragging us to
the conference room for a meeting with the station manager's staff. Even the bitter lounge coffee
doesn't keep my eyes from drooping while the marketing gurus dissect our show's Arbitron stats
Cume, AQH, TSL and break them down by key demographic groups. We're creeping up on the
coveted five-point share and are drawing considerably higher ratings than KSEA in the young, male
demo, which drives advertising dollars. Almost an hour later, they get to the bottom line: The numbers
are pretty damn good.
Why didn't they just say that in the first place?
As soon as we're released, I bail on lunch and head for my truck, making my getaway before Newton can
stop me again. When I get home, I shuffle down the hall toward the bedroom, shedding my purse, coat,
and shoes on the way. I collapse facedown on top of the comforter and fall into a deep sleep
immediately.
Awakened hours later by something vibrating on my ass, I pull my phone from the back pocket of my
jeans. Rolling over with a quiet grunt, I glance at the screen and sigh. Even though I didn't really expect
to see Cullen's name, I'm still a little disappointed that the texter is Emmett.
*Still hungry. Feed me, Swan. Cooper's at 6?
This morning, I told Em that I wasn't going to our fantasy meeting tonight, but then he pointed out that
I've moved all the way up to second place in the league while Peter the prick is third from the bottom. I
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