Three Little Wishes

Chapter Eleven

Willow stomped into the TV station the next afternoon. She’d been summoned by the Big Boss, as Veronica and apparently everyone at the station now referred to Noah. Willow had gotten the call while she was helping with the pet rescue event that was being held that weekend. As part of her job at Channel 5, she was the face of the station at community events. She did everything from appearing in parades—in costume—to helping organize the events and lending an extra pair of hands as herself.

Her involvement with the events was her favorite part of her job and took up most of her time. During the summer, though, she was routinely run off her feet. At any other time, she wouldn’t mind. She liked being busy and loved helping out her community. But with everything going on in her life at the moment, she could use three of herself.

After filming this morning—a disaster, but what else was new—she’d changed and headed straight to the farm where the pet rescue event was being held. In an hour, she had a meeting with the organizing committee for the silent auction. No matter what the Big Boss wanted, she had no intention of missing the committee meeting. It had taken her months to convince her mother to donate three of her paintings. Willow couldn’t wait for everyone to see how talented her mother was, including her mother.

So yes, she was ticked Noah was demanding she meet with him with no thought whatsoever for her schedule. And if he was using this meeting as a way to show Willow he was her actual boss, not her sort-of boss, to strengthen the case he’d made against them indulging in a summer fling, then she’d be unhappier than she already was.

As she walked through the lobby and took note of the hum of activity at the station, she thought she might have to give Noah a pass. At least when it came to pulling her away from helping set up the pet rescue event. It was possible no one at the station had had time to inform him that she was busy too.

She would’ve informed him herself if she’d seen him. But no, after they’d gotten back to the beach house from her place the day before, he’d stuck around long enough to eat five slices of pizza and then headed to the station to work. She had no idea when he had gotten back. She only knew that he’d been gone by the time she’d gotten out of bed that morning. Something else that had contributed to her bad mood, and she was rarely in a bad mood.

She’d been right. Noah was annoying.

“Who peed in your cornflakes this morning?” Naomi greeted Willow as she approached the reception desk.

She raised an eyebrow. “Was that your body double behind the camera this morning?”

“They didn’t pee on—” Naomi began before being interrupted by Veronica.

“The Big Boss is waiting, Will. You need to get in there right away,” Veronica said, her smile blinding.

Willow stared at her friend, who’d barely been able to crack a smile this past week, now wearing one so wide that it had to be hurting her cheeks while passing on Noah’s edict. There was only one reason Willow could think of for Veronica’s blinding smile, and she felt as if she’d been punched in the chest. In the past week, the one time Veronica had been as happy as she appeared to be right now was when Willow asked her to fill in for her. Noah was giving Veronica her job, and Willow knew why.

“Veronica’s right. Get your butt in there, babe,” Naomi said, smiling.

Willow blinked at her friend and cameraperson, whispering, “You’re smiling.”

Naomi shared a glance with Veronica and then shook her head. “I’m not smiling,” she said, turning her smile upside down.

Willow looked around the station. Several of the crew and newscasters gave her big waves with big smiles on their faces. She wanted to yell at them. To remind them that they loved her weather reports. They thought they were hysterical. They were the bright spot in their mornings and afternoons. They’d told her so themselves.

“Willow, get in there. The Big Boss is waiting,” Don said with a wide smile as he walked up to the reception desk, three boxes of doughnuts from O Holey Glazed piled in his arms.

Don didn’t smile, and he didn’t bring in doughnuts. Willow brought in doughnuts. She couldn’t believe it. They were celebrating her being fired!

Her throat got tight, and the backs of her eyes burned. Do not let them see you cry, she ordered herself. And without looking at her friends and colleagues, she stomped to Don’s former office. She didn’t knock or wait for Noah to wave her in. She swung open the door and stomped to one of the two chairs in front of the desk.

He was on the phone and smiled, and then, obviously sensing she was not in a happy place, his smile faded. He pointed at the chair she stood behind, indicating that she should take a seat while waiting for him to finish his call.

She stayed where she was. Her fingers curved around the back of the chair, her knuckles whitening with the strength of her grip.

His brow furrowed as he returned his attention to whomever he was speaking to. “Thank you. I appreciate you thinking of me but I’m not interested in the position at this time.”

Willow shook her head. Here she was trying to hang on to a part-time job, and he had job opportunities he wasn’t interested in falling into his lap. He probably didn’t even have to work.

He smiled at whatever the person said next. She wanted to tell him they couldn’t see him, but then he laughed. Not his deep, rumbly laugh that she loved, or that she used to love, she reminded herself, lowering her gaze from his gorgeous face. It was a polite laugh.

She looked up from her hands gripping the chair to see his gaze moving over her, and she shifted from one foot to the other. She’d wiped her sneakers on the sidewalk a few times to ensure she hadn’t brought anything from the barn in with her. She’d picked hay off her frayed denim shorts that were almost but not quite short-shorts, and off the sleeveless white cotton shirt she wore tied at her waist. She tugged it down to cover the strip of bare skin there, but it rode up as soon as she put her hand back on the chair.

Noah’s gaze moved to her hair, which she wore in a ponytail, her sunglasses holding back the tendrils that had escaped when she was helping wrangle the dogs. She imagined Noah was horrified that she hadn’t changed before meeting with him.

He, it had to be said, looked every inch the successful CEO in a shirt that matched the color of his eyes and fit his broad shoulders and his wide chest to perfection. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, showing off his powerful forearms. Distractedly, she wondered when he found time to work out.

“I will. And again, thank you for the offer,” he said before disconnecting. He put his phone on his desk, leaned back in the chair, and opened his mouth.

She didn’t give him a chance to get a word out. “If you think by firing me that will leave us free and clear to have a summer fling, you had better think again. Because it doesn’t matter that I was all for us having one. If I’m honest, and I always am, unlike some people I know,” she said, keeping her gaze focused on his chin, “I might’ve been the one to suggest a fling or at least strongly hint at it, but you’re gorgeous and you can be considerate and kind, and even when you’re in annoying, demanding CEO Noah mode, it’s all kinds of sexy, so it’s understandable why I’d want to make out with you. But now?”

She shook her head. “That’s totally off the table so you should reconsider firing me if that’s the reason you were going to, and I can’t think of any other reason…” Her shoulders drooped, and the fight went out of her. “I guess I can. I suck as a weatherperson, but you’re closing the station so can’t you just leave me with my dignity and a paycheck until you do?”

She blew out a breath. “Veronica’s my friend, and I know she wants to work on camera, and she did a great job replacing me. But I need my paycheck, Noah. You know I do.”

“Willow, sit down. Please.”

Her head snapped up at what sounded like amusement in his voice. He was rubbing a hand across his mouth, and his eyes were warm and crinkled at the corners.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“No. I’m smiling.” He lowered his hand from his mouth and gestured at the chair. “And if you would’ve stopped staring at my chest at any point during your—”

“I wasn’t staring at your chest. I was staring at your chin.”

His lips twitched, and she growled low in her throat, rounding the chair and throwing herself onto the seat. “You have a warped sense of humor if you found anything I said funny. In fact, it’s rude… no, it’s just plain mean that you’d sit there laughing at me while I poured out my heart to you.”

“I didn’t say I was laughing. I said I was smiling. And Willow”—he didn’t continue until she raised her gaze to his—“I was smiling because while you were telling me you wouldn’t have a fling with me, you told me I was gorgeous, considerate, kind, and even when I annoy you, you find me sexy.”

“That was before you were going to fire me!”

“You’re not fired. I had no intention of firing you and have no idea how you came to that ridiculous conclusion. And frankly, I find it insulting that you believe I would do something like that.”

Willow straightened in the chair. “You’re not firing me?”

“No. I’m not. Now would you be so kind as to enlighten me as to why you believed that I was?”

She flung her arm behind her. “Because no one’s acting like themselves.” She explained about Veronica, Naomi, and Don. “And the rest of the crew were giving me big waves and smiles.”

“All right. I’ll admit I don’t have a clue how a woman’s mind works, but how a woman who is adored by her colleagues could come to the conclusion they were happy because she’d been fired is beyond me. As—”

She groaned. “I know. I’m an idiot. But you have to see it from my—”

“You are far from an idiot, and I’d appreciate it if you would stop calling yourself one. You also didn’t let me finish. I was going to say, as beyond me as that same woman believing she sucks”—he made air quotes—“at her job when her five-minute weather reports have drawn the highest ratings on Channel 5 for the past year.”

“It’s the over-seventy crowd. They’re obsessed with the weather, and even though I get it wrong thirty, maybe forty percent of the time, they’re loyal. I also helped raise twenty thousand dollars for the senior center, so there’s that. But Noah, if you’d watched my weather reports, you’d understand why I say I suck.”

He pointed at the screen behind him. “I watched this morning,” he said, and then pressed his lips together as his shoulders started shaking.

“It’s not funny.”

“No. It was hilarious.”

“Trust me, having a poodle and a Yorkshire terrier peeing on you is not funny. This kind of thing happens to me all the time. All the dogs in the park were leashed, like they’re supposed to be, except those two, and they made a beeline straight for me. And really, do I look like a fire hydrant?”

She sighed when his warm, deep laugh washed over her, and then she continued talking to distract herself from the way his eyes lit up when he laughed. “The owner was nice, though. When he finally caught up with us, he apologized and offered to have my costume dry-cleaned.” After he’d gotten his laughter under control.

“Exactly how far did the dogs chase you?” he asked, sputtering a laugh as soon as the question was out of his mouth.

“According to Naomi, a mile. She said I should consider signing up for the five-mile charity run in August. She’s positive I beat last year’s winning time, and I was running in a costume.”

He’d stopped laughing, his indigo gaze darkening as it moved over her face. “There’s a reason people tune in to watch you, Willow.”

She nodded. “I know. I already told you what it was. The seniors are seriously obsessed with the weather. I’m sure they tuned in to watch Veronica too.”

“You’re right about Veronica. She should be on camera. But her numbers won’t compare with yours. And that’s because you have the indefinable it factor. Everyone sees it but you. It’s like your mother’s painting. The heart of you shines through when you’re on air, and it’s absolutely captivating. Your talent is wasted delivering a five-minute weather report, Willow. Your concept for Good Morning, Sunshine! would’ve been the perfect vehicle for you.”

He had no idea how much his words meant to her. He didn’t think she was a joke like everyone else. Noah Elliot, the CEO of Bennett Broadcasting, thought she was good at her job, and that… well, that meant the world to her.

She swallowed hard against the emotion tightening her throat. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“You have no reason to thank me. I’m just stating a fact.” His cell phone beeped, and he glanced at the screen. “I have a conference call that I can’t put off so we—”

She got up from the chair. “Of course. I can come back when you’re finished.”

“Willow, would you please sit down,” he said, sounding frustrated. “What I meant was that I don’t have time to get to the bottom of why you seem oblivious to your talent and why you were willing to settle for a five-minute weather spot. But before I get tied up with this call, you need to know what I wanted to speak to you about, otherwise everyone in Sunshine Bay will know but you.”

“It’s Megan, isn’t it?” She nodded and held up her phone. “She got to the Beaches first, and they’ve been sending me texts on her behalf.” She shook her head, as frustrated with her squad now as she had been when they began sending her texts all in caps with angry-face emoji. “I can’t believe—”

He held up his hand, cutting her off. “This has nothing to do with Megan and the… Beaches. Whatever they are.”

She opened her mouth to tell him.

“I wasn’t asking. I don’t want to know. What I want is to tell you what I asked Don to keep to himself until I had spoken to you, which he’s obviously been unable to do. I’d planned to tell you when I saw you tonight, since you didn’t have a free moment in your schedule today, seeing as you spend your entire day when you’re not on air volunteering for community events. Which, by the way, is something we’ll be discussing tonight.”

Her spine stiffened at the way he spoke about her schedule, as if he didn’t appreciate her not being at his beck and call. “Oh, so you were actually planning on coming home tonight? Color me shocked since I haven’t heard from you or seen you since you left the beach house at seven last night.” Realizing she sounded like a petulant girlfriend, she said, “I meant Riley hasn’t seen or heard from you since you left the beach house at seven last night.”

“I got back from the station at two in the morning, Willow. I didn’t think you’d appreciate me waking you but I won’t make that mistake again,” he said with a promise in his voice that had her imagining how he would wake her. “My reasoning for not waking you when I left for the station at five this morning was the same.”

“That’s insane, Noah. You can’t function on that little sleep.”

He shrugged. “I won’t have to for much longer. We have two sale agreements left to finalize. There were issues with one of them, but they’ve since been resolved. And this morning I wanted to look over Channel 5’s financials before talking to Don.” He studied her for a moment and then straightened in his chair to type something into his computer. “I’m giving you, and Don obviously, three weeks to find an interested buyer for the station.”

She froze in the chair. “I don’t understand. Why would you do that?”

He angled his head. “That wasn’t the reaction I expected.”

“I guess I’m in shock.” She glanced over her shoulder at her coworkers, who sprang into action as if they hadn’t been watching what was going on in Don’s office. Then she returned her gaze to Noah. “I’d convinced everyone, including myself, that we could change your mind. But I guess I didn’t believe it because I…” She lifted a shoulder, stuck for words.

“It’s the responsibility,” he murmured.

“Pardon?”

“I should’ve anticipated how you’d react. I might’ve given you the opportunity you wanted, Willow, but I’ve also placed a heavy burden on your shoulders. The hopes and dreams of your colleagues. And that’s because Don’s not the heart of the station, you are.”

Even though she had a feeling Noah was right about her reaction—she felt more like throwing up than like dancing for joy—Don wanted to save the station as much as she did. She opened her mouth to come to his defense.

“Whether you believe it or not, that’s how your coworkers see you, Willow. I had an opportunity to speak with several of them last night between conference calls. I learned a lot about your colleagues and the inner workings of the station. That’s the problem with being a corporation as big as Bennett Broadcasting, we look at numbers, not people.”

“Is that why you changed your mind?”

He nodded. “I just emailed you the contact information for potential buyers. Don has a copy too. Robyn will be sending both of you the feedback we received when we initially put up the offering for Channel 5. It isn’t fun reading, but it’s best you go in prepared.”

“You still don’t believe we can find a buyer, do you?”

“I’m sorry, but no, I don’t.” He smiled. “Then again, you convinced me to stay with Riley at the beach house for the summer and to let your aunt hide out there, so when you’re involved, anything is possible.”

Noah was right, she thought, reminded of Audrey Hepburn’s quote “Nothing is impossible. The word itself says ‘I’m possible.’” And the panic that had kept her from fully appreciating Noah’s news was replaced with hope and the urge to celebrate. She wanted to leap from the chair and do a happy dance.

As though he sensed the change that had come over her, Noah’s smile widened, and she no longer wanted to dance. She wanted to throw herself across his desk and kiss him all over his gorgeous face.

Instead, she said, “I appreciate your faith in me, but finding a buyer in three weeks won’t be easy. Is there any chance we could get an extra week? Maybe two?”

“I’m afraid not. We set a target of September thirteenth for the dissolution of the corporation, and the paperwork is underway. Seventy-five percent of our head office staff are moving on to other jobs or have opted to retire at the end of this month. I’m pushing it by giving you three weeks, but we’ll make it happen if you find an interested buyer.”

His phone rang, and he glanced at the screen. “I have to take this.”

As Willow got up from the chair and walked to the door, she turned. “Mr. Elliot”—he looked at her with his brow furrowed, no doubt at her formal address—“you should probably know that I have a crush on you.”

A slow smile curved his lips. “The feeling is mutual, Ms. Rosetti,” he said, lifting his chin at the door as he brought the phone to his ear. “You should join your coworkers. They’ve been waiting to celebrate with you.”

She danced out of his office, yelling, “Whoo-hoo!” to the cheers of her coworkers, but it was Noah’s deep laugh following her out the door that made her smile, and she smiled hugely.