Drive(65)

Nate emailed me with good feedback on my columns and set up a date for us to meet at Speak to discuss my future.

He kept it professional, and I breathed out a sigh of relief when I wasn’t pressed for more.

Fall began despite the clinging summer temperatures.

Football season arrived, which meant better tips.

And Lexi and Ben fell in love.

Though I was powering through my life as planned, I was still in love with Reid Crowne.

And I fucking hated Dave Grohl.

Why? Because on every corner, I saw a scruffy-faced, ear-length, dark-haired guy with a T-shirt, jeans, and a metal chain wallet.

And my heart would stop.

And my throat would knot.

And I would shed a tear when the face, which wasn’t Reid’s, turned my way.

The Sergeants still played every week for money. And being the self-absorbed asshole I was, I couldn’t force myself to a single show. I took the low road, because it felt better to wither there.

Lexi was a lifesaver. She put up with my self-indulgent shit for weeks before she ever suggested we go out. My answer was no, and her consolation was Ben. It worked.

Life was marching on. It was as if he never existed. No one talked about him.

But I felt him. Embedded. Our seven minutes on a loop, our song cut short.




On the day I walked through the doors of Austin Speak, I was more determined than ever to forget my heart and follow the music. With a one-track mind, I greeted Sierra, who waved at me enthusiastically while she explained on the phone that Nate Butler was in a meeting. I had on new purple Converse with Eminem’s “Till I Collapse” lyrics scribbled all over the sides, but settled on a lightweight, black V-neck sweater and black slacks. I’d cut a few inches off my ornery hair and flattened it until it lay like silk over my shoulders. I was still resistant to makeup, aside from heavy mascara and lipstick.

“Hey, you,” Sierra greeted with a warm smile. “He’s expecting you. Good job, by the way. You made one hell of an impression on him.”

“Thanks.” Even though I knew that impression was questionable.

“Miss Emerson here to see you.”

Though I kept a straight face, I started to shake inside the minute Nate opened his office door. He gave me a smile and ushered me back.

Nerves firing off, I walked past the noisy desks and avid attention of those behind them until I reached the safety of his door.

Get a grip, Stella.

“Hello,” I said with a smile as Nate stood at his desk, looking me over with surprise before he smirked, satisfied when he saw the shoes.

“Good song.”

“The best.”

“Shut the door,” Nate said without further scrutiny. “Have a seat.”

I shut the door as he began typing furiously, a single earbud tucked discretely below his coppery, slicked back locks. Briefly, I wondered his flavor of music. He didn’t strike me as a rap guy, but edgy rock and roll didn’t exactly fit him, either. I bit my lip as he pounded away on his keys, his lashes dancing above his pronounced cheekbones. He seemed taller, broader, more. The man was larger than life, and as he looked over at me with paralyzing blue eyes, I had no doubts he knew it.

“Good job, Stella,” he said as he pushed away from his laptop and set his arms on his desk. “I mean that.”

“Thank you,” I said hoarsely then cleared my throat.

“Nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t be,” he said with a wink. “I’ll buy them. You’re getting published. Have you fact checked all of this?”

My chest pounded, my stomach queasy as I hid my elation. “Yes.”

“No matter, I will want them checked again and reserve the right to the final draft, understood?” He pulled a folder from his desk and laid out a schedule. “You’ll be working with JJ. You two will share space with city events and entertainment. I will not break up fights between the two of you. Figure it out. Best story is always going to get picked, and Stella—” he paused, looking at me pointedly “—he’s good.”

Intimidation and elation was a shitty combo.

“But you can learn from him. Don’t declare him the enemy yet. He’s fair, and he’s been covering by himself since the paper started.”

“What does JJ stand for?”

“Never asked,” he said, furrowing his brows. “You okay? You’re pale.”

“I’m fine,” I said, completely convincing us both that I was anything but.

He stared at me long and hard. “Stella, if you can’t handle this, tell me right now. Circulation is growing. I need to expand the section. Things have changed drastically since the last time you were in here. We’ve been able to add four pages.”

“I’m ready,” I said, finding my voice.

What the hell is wrong with you? This is your shot, take it. “I’m ready.”

“Okay, you’ll need to go over your schedule with JJ when you leave here. He’ll show you the ins and outs. I want you at a desk here once a week, one Saturday a month. Sierra will set you up with your paperwork up front. If you’re writing for money, this isn’t the job to take.”

“Understood.”

He clasped his hands together. “Where are you, Stella?”