Chapter 7
Amelia
The scent of vanilla and jasmine reaches me before I hear the soft click of heels against the floor.
“Good morning,” Violet chirps, stepping into view.
I glance up and smile. “Oh, look at us,” I say, gesturing between us. “Matching outfits.”
She laughs, her dark eyes flicking down at her outfit. “Oh, we did! Cheers to unintentional coordination.”
She’s wearing tailored black pants, the straight-leg cut giving her an effortlessly chic look, paired with heeled ankle boots that click with every step.
My pants are more fitted, hugging my hips and tapering at the ankle, comfortable, but not quite as polished.
I’ve stuck with my classic black loafers: clean, practical, and a little predictable.
We’re both in shades of green, hers a deep forest, mine closer to olive, which leaves our hair as the only real difference. Hers is twisted into a messy bun, a few artful strands framing her face. Mine’s sleek and straight, tucked neatly behind my ears. Less romantic, more… controlled.
I wonder if I could pull off her look… if I let things be a little more undone. Next time I feel like my wardrobe’s in a rut, I’ll try something less precise. Or maybe I’m just imagining all this because she makes it look so easy.
“How was the welcome party?” she asks as she props herself against my desk.
“Actually, not bad.”
Which is true. I think about the fun my family had, and I’m grateful to Luna for taking them home. She texted me to let me know everything was fine, which helped me focus on getting pictures and notes. I saw a side of Adrian I wasn’t expecting; his speech and dancing were surprisingly good.
“Mad I missed it.” She pauses, then tilts her head. “Did you write something about it?”
I hesitate for a beat. “Yeah, I did.”
“Well, send it over. I’m curious,” she adds with a grin, clearly meaning it as a compliment, though something about it tightens my chest.
I tap at my keyboard and fire it off before I can second-guess myself.
Since the offer of promotion, everything I write feels like it’s under a microscope.
Luna’s watching my every move. Even though I bet no one else applied for this job, and it’s technically mine already, I can’t afford to screw up.
A whistle pulls me from my thoughts.
I glance up. “What?”
Violet smirks, scrolling through the photos on her computer screen. “Damn. He’s a good-looking guy.”
“Who?” I ask, even though I know exactly who she’s talking about.
She moves the screen and taps it, her finger landing squarely on Adrian’s face.
I make a dismissive huff. “I guess. If you’re into that kind of thing.”
“What? Hot men?” she shoots back, arching an eyebrow. “Did he say if he was single?”
“No, we didn’t talk about that.”
She grins, mischief sparking in her eyes. “Oh, so you’ve talked.”
“Yeah, but only for the article.”
A mischievous glint flashes in her eyes. “Are you gonna—”
“Not a chance.” I shake my head. “Good-looking or not, he’s a walking red flag.”
Violet’s lips twitch. “Did I say he wasn’t a red flag? I’m just saying… he’s pretty.”
“Too pretty to do what he did?” I arch an eyebrow right back. “Don’t let his face fool you. Guys like that charm their way through life; think the rules don’t apply to them. A guy getting dismissed from work? That’s not just a bad day. He probably thinks accountability’s for everyone else.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s more to the story.”
“There always is. But I don’t care. It’s a dealbreaker for me.”
Violet hums, but I can tell she’s not entirely convinced.
I steer us back on track. “Anyway, read the article. Tell me what you think.”
A minute passes as she skims through, then she nods. “It’s great. You did a really good job.”
Pride swells in my chest. “Thanks.”
She stretches, then glances at me. “How was your weekend? Besides the party?”
I shrug. “The usual. Clean the house, buy groceries, get the kids ready for school. How was the engagement party you went to?”
“It was nice. We had a good time.”
“Do you think Nell will propose soon?”
She laughs lightly. “Ever? Yeah. Soon? Hell no. We’re still figuring things out.”
“I just thought, it’s been a couple of years...”
She shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, but we’re young. No rush. I think good things take time.”
“That’s true.”
Violet grins. “What about you?”
I snort. “This town doesn’t exactly have a great selection.”
The town’s matchmaking attempts failed, so they gave up.
“Yeah,” she says. “And the only new option has a giant red flag plastered on his forehead.”
“Exactly.” I sigh. “If I ever move to the city, maybe I’ll actually find someone worth dating. But for now?” I gesture around us. “Slim pickings.”
“Tragic.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, well, I should take this article to Luna.”
Violet nods. “It’s really good. She’s gonna love it. No question.”
I hesitate. “You sure?”
She gives me a flat, unimpressed stare, lips twitching at the corners. “When am I ever wrong?”
I smile, but my stomach knots. For some reason, this part makes me nervous. I’m not usually the anxious type, but something about Luna’s reaction to this article sets me on edge. Her approval matters more because of the promotion.
Bracing myself, I grab my laptop and stand.
The glass door to Luna’s office looms ahead. I take a breath, square my shoulders, and knock.
She calls out, “Come in.”
I step inside, where Luna sits behind her desk, the large window behind her spilling afternoon light across the office.
“Hi, I just wanted to show you my article from the welcome party.”
She looks up, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It was a great event, wasn’t it?”
“It was. The town always knows how to show up. I had a great time.”
Luna nods, gesturing toward the chair across from her. “Send it to me.”
I take a seat and email it to her. As she reads, I pick at my nails. The silence stretches, broken only by the occasional flick of her eyes across the screen.
Finally, she leans back, exhaling. “Great photos. And the article is solid. You did a great job.”
Relief washes over me. “Thanks.”
She pauses, tapping a finger against the desk. “But... I think we’re missing something.”
I stiffen. “We are?”
“Seeing him at the event…. Adrian. It just didn’t seem like he was the villain we made him out to be.”
The thought of this jeopardizing my chances fills me with dread. “You didn’t like the article?”
“No, I loved it. It was sharp, scathing… everything it needed to be. But I think we need his side of the story. It would add balance and depth.”
I can’t even imagine asking him. “You want me to interview him?”
“Yes. If you can get his perspective and write a new article with his photo, it’ll be even better. Honestly, your last few articles—including this one—are phenomenal. You’ve really stepped it up.”
For a second, I just sit there, stunned. A flicker of pride swells in my chest. Relief floods in behind it, chasing away the knot that had been lodged in my stomach since I walked in. But the glow doesn’t last long. I need to do a follow-up interview where I get up close and personal.
I inhale deeply, knowing there’s no other answer unless I want to kiss goodbye to my promotion. “Okay. I can do an article on Adrian.”
Luna nods, seeming satisfied. “Good. We’ll put this one online and straight to print, and you can get working on the next.”
I should be grateful. She’s trusting me with more than just the dull town announcements and simple local updates. For once, I’m getting real stories. Poor Violet, though. She’s the one stuck covering all the boring assignments. Not that she seems too mad about it.
I carry my laptop back to my desk, dropping into my chair with a sigh. Violet leans over, eyes curious. “How’d it go?”
“Yeah, good.”
She raises an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”
“This can go online and print, but she wants me to interview Adrian.”
Violet’s eyes widen. “Oh?”
I nod. “I need to get his side of the story.”
Her lips press together, and then she chuckles. She tries to hide it, but she fails, and soon, I’m laughing too.
“Just my luck.” I shake my head.
Violet grins. “Gotta hang out with him more. Come on, it’s not that bad. There are worse things to look at.”
She wiggles her eyebrows at me, knowing we both admitted that Adrian’s attractive.
“Listen, I’m not saying it’s going to be the worst thing in the world,” I say. “Just that I don’t necessarily want to do it.”
She shrugs. “Well, you’ve got no choice now.”
I sigh. “Yeah, I think he started today at the hospital. So now I just have to figure out… do I visit him there, or do I go to his place?”
Violet laughs. “You’re probably better off catching him at work.”
I groan. “Great. Looks like I’m heading to the hospital this afternoon.”
Violet grins, sing-songing, “Can’t wait for the stories.”
I groan again, but secretly, I wonder what exactly I’m walking into. What if he refuses? What if he brushes me off or turns it into a fight? I need this interview to land. Luna’s watching, and if I can’t handle one doctor—especially this one—what does that say about me? About the promotion?
Hours later, I arrive at the town hospital, my nerves bundled tight. I push through the cold air, my hands stuffed into my pockets, regretting not bringing a jacket. The cold cuts at my skin as I step inside, the fluorescent lights harsh against the sterile white walls.
I make my way to the emergency reception desk, glancing around.
Patients wait in plastic hospital chairs, staff move with urgency, the smell of antiseptic fills my nose.
I’ve never liked hospitals. Too many recent memories with Mom.
The familiar woman behind the desk doesn’t look up, her fingers tapping away on her keyboard.
“Hey, Nina, do you know when Dr. Pierce is finishing up?”
“Amelia. Nice to see you. Looking to check him out?” Nina eyes me curiously, the corner of her lips lifting, as if she knows something I don’t.
I scoff, shaking my head. “Hardly. I just need an interview. I’m writing an article.”
Her knowing smile remains, but she doesn’t give me the information I need. As I step outside, the cold air wraps around me again. With my phone in hand, I start jotting down notes. This article must be good. One more strong piece, and the promotion is as good as mine.
The automatic doors slide open, and my head snaps up.
It’s not him.
I exhale, glancing back down at my notes, but anticipation tightens in my chest. My fingers numb as I scroll through my notes, trying to distract myself.
Then, finally, the doors part, and my breath catches.
Adrian steps out, suit pants hugging his frame, shirt slightly wrinkled, tie loosened just enough to make him look effortlessly undone. His dark hair is slightly tousled… end-of-the-day hair. His strong jaw is tight, blue eyes sharp as they land on me.
I swallow hard.
“Hi. Have a good day?” I say, forcing a casual smile despite the ridiculous flutter in my chest. It’s nothing. Just nerves about the article. The promotion. The pressure to make this interview count.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
He barely reacts. “What do you want, Amelia? Or should I say, Dr. Whisperer?”
“I’m not—”
“Sure about that?” He crosses his arms, his stance firm. “Seems like people in that little gossip column love to ruin reputations.”
“No one knows who’s behind it. They’re anonymous. If I find out, I’ll let you know.”
Rumor has it the gossip column came from some long-time freelancer the paper paid forty bucks an article. Nobody in the office had ever met them. They handed in their stories through a generic inbox like a phantom.
Adrian scoffs. “What kind of reporter can’t figure out who Dr. Whisperer is? Unless, of course, they are Dr. Whisperer.”
I stare at him, momentarily thrown. This accusation isn’t new, but coming from him, it stings.
“Good call, Dr. Pierce, but I’m pretty damn good at my job,” I counter.
His lips curl, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’d beg to differ. A scathing article about me? Ruining my reputation further? And now, not being able to figure out who’s running that? Doesn’t scream ‘good reporter’ to me.”
I grit my teeth. I can’t believe Violet thinks I’d be interested in this guy. He despises me.
But I’m here for a reason. “So you won’t give me an interview?”
“What interview?”
I straighten my shoulders, hating having to ask him like this. “I just want to get your side of the story.”
His eyes darken as the pulse in his jaw tics. “So you can twist it? No thanks.”
He turns to leave, and in a moment of desperation, I reach out, catching his arm. My fingers meet solid muscle, and my brain short-circuits. His bicep flexes under my touch. I wasn’t expecting this level of muscle from a doctor, let alone noticing how good he feels, but I do.
Adrian stills, his gaze dropping to where my hand lingers. My pulse spikes. I drop my hand like I’ve been burned.
“Please,” I try again, my voice softer now.
His nostrils flare. “No. I also read your recent article about the welcome party.”
I pretend I don’t know exactly which part he’s referring to. “That was nice, right?”
His eyes narrow. “You keep finding little ways to dig at me. If I agreed to an interview, you’d do it again. I’m not giving you the chance. Not at my expense.”
He turns and walks away, his long strides eating up the pavement.
I stand there, watching him disappear into the night, trying to ignore the fact that, despite everything, I can’t stop looking at him.