Halfway to You(10)

Maggie has spent her entire career at SBTS trying to convince him that she’s capable and qualified and trustworthy. On good days, she reminds herself that his dubiousness isn’t personal, that it comes from a deep care for the work itself—but on bad days, it’s a blow to her confidence. She’d hoped that this project would finally turn that tide, but apparently not.

Of course, when he finds out that Ann refused to be recorded, he’ll be justified in his distrust. He’ll have a reason to continue nagging Maggie at every turn—with not just this assignment but future projects as well.

If he assigns her anything after this.

Maggie types a message to Brit. Remind me why we chose to work for Grant?

Brit responds instantly. You’re alive!

I’m on an island. In the woods. Farther north than Victoria, BC. Does he really expect my cell service to work at all times?

He worries. I worry.

He’s a control freak. You’re just being a good friend.

True, but . . . it’s Ann Fawkes! We’re all dying to know how it went.

Maggie swallows—hard. Sure, she’s irritated. But she’s also terrified of Grant’s fury when he finds out how the day went.

Brit sends another text: You haven’t responded with happy emojis yet, so I’m guessing it didn’t go great.

Maggie lies down on the bed, propped up on her elbows. It was actually amazing, Maggie types, it’s just—

Her phone starts ringing, interrupting the text before she can send it.

Grant.

A pang of fear knocks inside her like a piano-key hammer striking a tight string; her head rings, and her diaphragm trembles. Sitting up, she shakes out her hands before she answers.

“Hello?” Her voice is a mile off from normal, sounding high and strained. She clears her throat and tries again. “Hello?”

“I asked you to check in first thing.” His voice is frighteningly level. “Check in first thing. That’s all I asked. Was that too hard for you?”

“I, uh . . .” In a panic, Maggie toggles away from the call and texts Brit. WHY.

She responds immediately: I texted him that you were alive, that’s it. He was worried.

Well, I’m dead now.

“Maggie.” His voice makes her jump.

“I’m sorry, my service is bad on the island. My phone died halfway through the day.”

“And before that?”

“I was talking to Ann.”

“I asked you to—”

“You don’t trust me.” Maggie’s tone is accusatory; she can’t help it. “Why hire me if you don’t—”

“Is that what you think?” He sounds genuinely surprised, his voice going soft. “You’re still green, Maggie, and you’re not the only one with bosses breathing down your neck. Joy and Anita were on me all day about this, wanting updates I didn’t have.”

The executive producer, Joy, is a hard-ass. Anita, the creator and host of the podcast, isn’t so bad . . . but Joy has a way of drawing Anita into her whirlpool of worry. Most of the time, they’re great to work with—but this is a big story to hand over to an assistant producer and editor like Maggie, and she can only imagine the angst swirling around the small studio.

No wonder Grant was calling all day. She shudders to think of how he must’ve had to cover for her silence. “I’m sorry,” she says. “Truly. I’ll try to be more communicative.”

“Yeah, well . . .” He sighs again. “It must’ve gone well for you to only be getting out of there now.”

Maggie opens her mouth but hesitates. Not only will today’s lack of material disappoint him, but Joy and Anita will be livid. If Maggie doesn’t lose her job outright, she definitely won’t get the producer title she’s been striving toward.

She bites her cheek. She could keep this from him—try to fix it—but what if she fails anyway? Better to be honest than risk later fallout.

Still, it isn’t easy telling her boss that the interview she’d begged him to let her run failed spectacularly.

“It went great,” she hedges. Technically true. Ann was utterly mesmerizing—the details, the insights, the opening up—it was as unexpected and breathtaking as the northern lights. “But Ann got cold feet.”

“What do you mean? Did she not tell you—”

“She told me a lot,” Maggie says. “She told me about her early travels and how she first met Todd.”

“What’s the catch?”

“None of it is on tape.”

“What?”

“Don’t freak out,” Maggie says, but she might as well be telling water not to be wet. Her only option is to push forward and explain. “Ann was really edgy during the initial recording, even when I lobbed her soft questions. Then she outright refused to be recorded. Said she changed her mind. Kicked me out of her house. I almost gave up and called you, but I went back and banged on her door. She agreed to tell me her story without any audio or notes. I . . . I figured . . .” She hiccups, trying to get ahold of herself. “If I could just listen, she might change her mind. I wanted to give her a chance to loosen up. My hope is that . . . maybe . . . she’ll agree to be recorded later.”

Maggie expects shouting and wrath.