Unfinished Ex (Calloway Brothers, #2)(90)

“I heard it coming down. Heisman and I took cover in the hallway.”

“My smart girlfriend.”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to that again,” she says. “You calling me your girlfriend.”

“You’re sure as hell no longer my ex. And legally, I can’t call you my wife.” I pin her to the wall with my stare. “Unless…”

“There you are,” Cooper calls from the elevator. “Would it be too much effort for you to answer your goddamn phone? We’re double parked, and Tag wants to get home to his people.”

I forgot I turned my phone on silent when we pulled up. “Sorry. Ready to go home?” I ask Nicky.

“I need to get cleaned up for work.”

“Work? But most of the roads are impassable.”

“The train is running. I told them I’d be in before the five o’clock show.”

“Fuck, Nic. After the night you had?”

“Especially after the night I had. Jaxon, what happened to me is news. In fact, I’m going over to Calista’s to take pictures. This is great stuff. I mean, now that we know she’s okay.”

It’s hard not to laugh at the absurdness of it. “You’re always looking for a story, aren’t you?”

“Are you mad?”

I let her in the back seat of Tag’s SUV. “No. I’m not. In some twisted way, your crazy job makes me want you even more. But babe, I’m going with you. There’s still a lot of ice everywhere. If you insist on going in, I won’t stop you, but I’ll damn sure make it so you get there in one piece.” I tap Tag on the shoulder. “Can I borrow the Range later to get us to the train station?”

“How about I take you?” Cooper says. “I’ll take you home and then Tag, then I was thinking about helping out around town since we’ve got the chains and all. Just call me when you need a ride.”

“It’s settled, then.”

Nicky puts her palm on my thigh. “I suppose if I must have a babysitter, there are worse people I could think of.”

Three hours later, after forcing Nicky to take a nap while I took pictures of the tree, we’re stepping off the elevator onto the sixth floor of XTN.

“Nice of you to make it to work,” some guy says when he sees Nicky.

I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not, and it makes me want to thump him.

“Did you get my pictures, Barry?” Nicky asks.

Barry. The asshole producer.

“Production is working on the slides right now.”

“Great. Oh, and I’m okay, by the way. Thanks for asking.”

He dismisses her with a wave of his hand.

“What a prick,” I say, watching him walk away.

“That was him being nice.”

“Is it always like that around here?”

“I like pretty much everyone else.” She leads me down the hall. “Here’s my dressing room. You can hang out with me here while I get ready, then you can either stay here or come into the studio when I do my clips.”

“Are you kidding? I came all the way here. I want to watch you work.”

She smiles as if that pleases her.

Over the next forty-five minutes, I meet several of her co-workers. Her makeup artist, Henri.

Clarice, who brings her an outfit and also gives me a suave look like I’m Don Juan or something.

Right—she’s the one who knows about the baby. Then there’s Jenny, her dickhead producer’s assistant, who Nicky often goes to lunch with.

There are also two or three other people who hand her papers while she’s getting ready. When all is said and done, I’m the one who’s exhausted just watching what she goes through before her shows. How she’s managing to keep up this pace while pregnant is beyond my scope of imagination.

But that’s not what amazes me the most. When I’m escorted to a chair that I’m instructed to sit in while she goes on the air—that’s when I fully get it. That’s when I understand what she does, why she does it, and how she’s gotten a half dozen job offers over this past month.

She effortlessly reports on last night’s storm as if she practiced her monologue a hundred times.

The pictures of Calista’s house and the uprooted tree come up behind her, along with others of downed power lines, ice-lined branches, and icicles that look like spears hanging from the edges of bridges and buildings. As she tells of her personal ordeal, giving it a human spin that few others can, I can see it—the drive. The passion. Nicole Forbes is exactly where she’s meant to be.

And I finally realize that no matter how much I dislike the situations this job may put her in, all of it—the good and the bad—makes her the person she is today. The person who has single-handedly increased viewership of the weekend news by ten percent. The person who laughs on screen when most meteorologists are stoic, delivering the weather as if reading an obituary. The person who banters well with the news anchors, causing the viewers to become more interested.

And the person who I love more than I ever thought I could love another human being.





Chapter Thirty-eight



Nicky




I close my laptop and get ready to leave for the day. Now that football season is over at CCHS, Jaxon and I get to spend more time together after work. I try to leave by five on weekdays. Hitting the bathroom one more time (because this little ballerina likes to dance on my bladder), I find it difficult to zip my pants. I study myself sideways in the mirror. There will be no hiding it soon. We have to tell everyone. But not before I tell my parents and Victoria, which Jaxon and I agreed would happen at dinner on Friday. They need to be prepared for the barrage of gossip that will encircle the three of us.