Channel 20 Something (7 page)

The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like Aric Serrano was the answer to getting the heck out of Mississippi and off of my parents’ welfare roll. No matter how inconveniently attractive he might be.

And for God’s sake, I was a grownup. I’d lived and learned. I wasn’t—was
not—
going to make the same mistakes again, so why
couldn’t
I take Aric up on his offers and finally start making progress toward all the things I’d been saying I wanted?

I thought of calling him all day Tuesday. Thought about it, but couldn’t actually do it because I didn’t have his number. If I had, I might have suggested getting together somewhere and going over the vocal exercises, maybe suggest a place to get some of that Southern food he’d been wanting to try.

It was probably for the best I couldn’t reach him. It was his day off. He might have been unpacking, catching up on his sleep, whatever. But by the time Wednesday afternoon rolled around, I couldn’t wait to get to work and talk to him.

I stopped by the ladies room first thing when I got to the station. The rainy weather had defeated all my efforts with the straightener, so I fished an elastic band out of my purse and conceded the battle, pulling my hair back into a long ponytail before heading to the sports office.

Aric was watching the regional sports feed, selecting highlights for the sports show when I got to the newsroom. He was alone—Dennis must have been out on a story. Video from a hockey game was on the monitor, and Aric looked like he was actually writing down the time code, intending to use it.

“Um, hate to tell you this, but nobody cares.”

He spun in his chair to face me. A wide smile spread across his face. “Nobody cares about what?”

“The P-Bruins versus…” I stepped closer and squinted to see the jerseys on the frozen screen. “Who’s that other team?”

“You know the Providence Bruins, but you don’t know the Mississippi River Kings?”

“Never heard of them and neither have ninety-nine point nine percent of the viewers in Northern Mississippi. I’m telling you—nobody cares.”

He ran a hand through his hair and scrubbed it back and forth. “Well, it’s the best I’ve got. Minor league hockey and baseball are the only things even close to professional sports in this crazy state. We can’t fill an entire eight-minute sports segment with Mississippi State and Ole Miss football highlights.”

“If you want anybody to watch—you might consider it. I’m not sure you’ve quite yet grasped the level of fanatical devotion we Southerners have to our college football.”

He laughed. “I’m starting to. I actually had a caller last weekend who accused me of being a closet Ole Miss fan, which was funny considering I also got a couple calls from people claiming I was biased toward State. As if I care one way or the other. But let’s back up a minute—how do you recognize the P-Bruins, being that you’re a college-football-loving Southerner and all?”

“Oh, I went to Brown—the P-Bruins arena was a few blocks from campus.”

Aric sat forward in his chair. “You’re kidding me. I went to Emerson in Boston. We used to go down to Providence to hang out on weekends sometimes. We were probably there at the same time. What year did you graduate?”

“I… um, started there.” I took a step back. The conversation had taken an uneasy turn. “But I transferred. I graduated from Mississippi State.”

“What happened at Brown? Flunk out?” His tone was light, teasing.

No, just failed in every other way.
“I… it just wasn’t for me. Too far from home. Um, I’d better get ready for the news meeting.” I turned from Aric’s baffled expression and retreated to the other side of the newsroom. I’d talk to him later about the voice stuff and working together. Maybe.

“Heidi.” Aric had followed me to my desk. “I’m sorry. I think I did it again. I can’t seem to stop saying the wrong thing to you.”

“No. You didn’t—don’t worry about it. I’m sure everyone assumed the same thing when I transferred. Actually the
school
part was the easiest thing about going away to school.”

His brows lifted. “So what was the hardest part?”

I wrinkled my nose and hesitated. “It’s complicated. I doubt you’d understand.”

“I might surprise you. You should try me.”

I looked up into his soft expression. He really wanted to know.
You should try me.
I shivered in the newsroom’s over-air-conditioned environment. How could I explain what happened to
him
, of all people? It was too humiliating. And with the similarities he and Josh shared, he might even find it funny. I opened my mouth to tell Aric “no” once again, but I didn’t get the chance.

“Hey y’all,” Colleen called out loudly as she sashayed into the newsroom in yet another of her perfectly-put-together designer outfits and hair that was miraculously unaffected by the humidity.

Her timing couldn’t have been better, and for once, I was actually glad to see her. At least for a few seconds, until she opened her mouth again. “Well, there he is, Mr. Hardbody himself. How was the rest of your workout?” She approached us and stopped very close to Aric, aligning herself beside him, smiling up at him adoringly.

“It was good. Hi Colleen.” Aric looked down at her with a chuckle and warm recognition on his face.

“I see no introductions are necessary.” I glanced between the two of them, reading the easy familiarity that seemed to have developed out of nowhere.

“Oh no,” she cooed, wrapping a long-taloned hand around Aric’s bicep and pulling herself close to his side. “Aric and I are old friends, aren’t we? We met at the gym yesterday, and he helped me with my hamstring curl technique. You may put my trainer out of a job.” She rolled her eyes up at him in an
ain’t-I-just-darling?
baby-doll expression. He gave her a smile in return.

Everyone knew Colleen was training for the Miss Mississippi pageant—we’d all been treated to the details of her special diet, and she would announce it loudly whenever she’d had a particularly grueling workout. No doubt attaining such physical perfection was hard work, but when someone begs so loudly for your admiration, you feel downright stingy about giving it.

I’d always found Colleen sort of harmlessly annoying. But today, watching her fondle Aric caused a startling amount of toxic sludge to form in my veins. I should have been thrilled. Aric would no longer be asking for details on my college freshman flameout… or anything else about me. Still, seeing the two of them together, looking so
couple-y
… it bothered me.

Janet stepped out of her office. “Okay troops. It’s two-fifteen. Time for the two o’clock meeting.” She laughed at her own joke. The two o’clock meeting never started on time.

I darted a last glance at Aric and Colleen before walking into Janet’s office. She was still staking her claim in every possible non-verbal way, and he didn’t seem to mind a bit.

I was assigned the live shot that night—a huge tree had fallen into a house in Louisville, causing massive damage and providing spectacular video. The storm continued throughout the afternoon and evening and actually picked up in the last hour before the newscast. During my live shot, I felt like one of those poor souls you see on the network news reporting from the site of an approaching hurricane, slapped in the face by driving rain as they gravely warn everyone else to stay inside. Maybe it would be something I could use for the reel, if I didn’t look too much like a drowned rat.

“I tell you—it feels like we’re fixin’ to wash off the road any minute.” Tony’s knuckles gleamed white in the glow of the live truck’s dashboard lights as we drove back to the station afterward. He gripped the large steering wheel, leaning forward in his seat, straining to see through the water gushing over the windshield.

“Should we pull over?”

“Nah. We’ll be all right. I’ll just take it slow. My wife’s gonna kill me if I don’t get home right straight, though. She’s been with the baby all day, and that boy hasn’t figured out his days from his nights yet. I guarantee I’ll walk through the door and his eyes will be wide open, bugging out of his little head. She’s gonna stand up, hand him to me, and walk directly to the bed.”

I laughed, the image relieving some of my tension over the rain-slicked roads. “Poor Shanna.”

By the time we got back to the station, the building was nearly empty. Tony and I said goodnight as he hurriedly locked up the truck in the side lot.

“Good luck tonight.”

“With Shanna or the baby?” He laughed.

“Both.”

“See you tomorrow, Heidi. Drive careful.” With a wave, Tony headed around back toward the employee parking lot.

I went to the newsroom to gather my things and leave a note for the morning producer. It was quiet. Aric was gone. So was Colleen. Well, he’d finally found someone who’d say “yes” to an after-work drink with him. In fact, she’d probably asked
him
. The thought left a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I watched the playback of my live shot, in which I did, in fact, look like a drowned rat. Then I fished my keys out of my purse and walked to the back exit, wishing I’d thought to keep my long, station-logoed rain slicker with me instead of leaving it in the live truck. I was going to get soaked. I opened the door to the parking lot and was relieved at first to see the rain had slowed to a drizzle. Then I saw my car and groaned.

My Mini was sitting in a huge puddle that had definitely
not
been there when I’d arrived for work today. I would have to wade through it to get in. At least I was still wearing my rain boots. I crunched across the gravel lot, sinking into the ground with each soggy step.

When I reached my car, the full scope of my dilemma became clear. The newly-formed lake surrounding it was so deep, if I opened the driver’s side door, the water was going to flood inside. I walked around to the passenger side to see if perhaps the level was lower there. Nope. Even worse.

What was I going to do? Daddy could’ve easily towed my car out with his pickup truck, but he’d been asleep for a couple hours by now. “Well, shoot,” I muttered.

“Language, language, please.”

The teasing voice behind me drew shivers from my rain-damp skin. I turned to see Aric’s large form approaching, framed by the security light behind him. Was the warmth suffusing my body relief, or something else? I swiveled my head to scan the parking lot. His Tahoe was there. I’d been so focused on the sight of my poor drowning car I hadn’t noticed his still parked across the lot.

When he reached me, he pulled off his rain jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders, drawing the hood up over my hair. It was so warm. The scent I’d noticed the first night we met surrounded me, threatening to make me light-headed.

“Thanks,” I breathed, looking up into his face. His cheeks were becoming coated in a light mist. My fingers, warm inside his jacket, twitched with the urge to reach up and brush the moisture away from his smooth skin. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

Aric pulled the sides of the jacket closed around me. “I waited for you. I wanted to make sure you got back okay.” His smile set my insides to a low simmer. “So, it looks like what we have here,” he said, “is the little engine that couldn’t.”

I glanced over at my water-logged car. “Poor Minnie Mae. Do you think the water’s getting inside?”

“Minnie Mae? You gave your car a grandma name.” He chuckled. “I think as long as the doors stay closed, the seal will keep it out of there. But—you won’t be taking… uh… Minnie Mae home tonight.”

Standing with his hands on his hips, Aric surveyed the situation, then glanced back at my face. Raindrops decorated the crown of his head, illuminated with the reflected shine of the building’s exterior lights. His eyes narrowed, and his lips twisted in a calculating expression.

“You know, I’d like to offer you a ride, but I did promise not to extend any more unwanted invitations.” His voice trailed off in a questioning note as he studied my face.

I gave him a rueful grin, putting on an overly-polite voice. “Would you mind giving me a ride home? I would really appreciate it.”

He furrowed his brow, shaking his head dubiously. “Well… if you’re
sure
you want it, and it’s entirely your idea… I’d hate to pressure you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Aric… will you, pretty please with Cool Whip and rainbow sprinkles on top, give me a ride home? You will have my undying gratitude.”

Aric put a hand to his chin, as if he was giving the matter deep consideration. “I like Cool Whip.” He grinned at me. “And undying gratitude. Let’s go.”

He opened the door for me, and I climbed into the front seat of his SUV, looking around, inhaling the leathery, citrusy guy-smell it held.

When he slid in behind the wheel, he filled up more of the space than I would have thought possible. “So, where to, my lady?”

I gave him the directions, and we cruised through town together, passing the darkened storefronts on Main Street, driving through circles of dim illumination cast by the streetlamps. The rain was still falling, though it was only a light drizzle now. It was so quiet, so intimate, in the warm, enclosed space of his truck. We were a lone bubble of life in the sleepy town.

I broke the silence. “So… it looks like you found a new friend.”

Aric glanced over at me. “What do you mean?”

“Colleen. You’re workout buddies now?”

“Oh yeah—that girl’s a trip. She is serious about her fitness.”

“You must be, too. You’ve already found the gym.”
And look like a cover model for Men’s Health.

“Well, I didn’t have that much to do, and I don’t know anybody, so I thought I’d go work out, kill some time on my days off. You know how it is when you move to a new town.”

“Yeah.” I knew how it was. But instead of finding a fitness center when I’d moved to Providence, I’d found Josh. Which, of course, was not Aric’s fault.

Guilt washed over me, leaving me more chilled than the rain had. I’d been so stand-offish toward Aric. I remembered that lonely feeling, the hope that someone would be friendly and step in to fill the vacuum created by leaving my family and friends behind in my hometown. He was probably feeling exactly like I had when I’d arrived on the Brown campus all those years ago. Alone in every sense of the word.