19
Blake was still peeling off her headphones when Chelsea strode in, headset around her neck, iPad in hand.
‘I listened to the logger,’ Chelsea said, her voice softer than usual. ‘I’m so sorry, babe. You did an incredible job getting through the rest of the show.’
Blake looked away. She still needed to get through the next few hours before she could talk to Morgan. The last hour had been autopilot, competitions, a cross to the promo team, throwing to songs, pretending her daughter’s name hadn’t just been broadcast across the entire city in peak hour.
Blake looked up. ‘That’s today?’
‘It was tomorrow. They moved it up. They want to break the story nationally.’
Britt handed Blake a fresh coffee like a bribe. ‘I saved you the non-scolding one.’
‘Lifesaver,’ Blake muttered, wrapping both hands around the warm cup.
Chelsea clocked the earlier spill across Blake’s shirt and arched an eyebrow. ‘Drink that and I’ll go hunt you down a clean top from promo.’
She pointed at the whiteboard. ‘You’ve got this. Just smile, answer soft, don’t swear, and let them film you reenacting that first talk break when you spoke about Leo for the very first time on air. I’ve done a light script taken from that moment in case you need it.’
Blake groaned. ‘Kill me.’
Mack leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice lower than usual. ‘Look, Blakey, about before—’
‘Nope,’ Chelsea cut in. ‘We know it was a mistake. You’ve said your apologies. Let’s stay focused, we’ve got a lot to get through.’
Blake took a sip of coffee and stared at the whiteboard like it might rearrange itself and make everything right.
The airlock swooshed open.
Steve strode in. ‘Can I assume we are doing our 9 am meeting here? Chelsea, what’s the next big on-air moment?’
Chelsea kept her eyes on her iPad. ‘Eurofest band. Koniglicht. Britt’s confirmed Rafael Varga for tomorrow.’
‘Lead singer with the cheekbones, he is actual lowkey fire,’ Britt added. ‘Translator’s coming in from seven.’
Steve’s gaze flicked to Britt, lingering a beat too long. ‘Down girl, at least try and keep it professional.’ His tone was light, teasing, but something underneath it made Blake’s skin crawl.
Britt’s cheeks flushed as she looked back at her screen.
Steve dropped into a chair and clapped his hands once, rubbing them together. ‘Thank god for Helen this morning, eh? Perfect dose of drama. Honestly, that segment was circling the drain. How long do women deny men before they give them what they want?’
Blake stared at the coffee stain, dry now on her shirt, her breathing making the fabric rise and fall in quick succession.
They were talking about content. Reaction.
Control. But this wasn’t just a segment.
This was her life. Her daughter’s life. Her past, clawing its way into the present. And they were treating it like sport.
Morgan’s face flashed in her mind. She’d be at school right now, maybe already hearing whispers. Things were hard enough for her, and now Blake had painted a bigger target on her back. She desperately wanted to find Leo. But at what cost?
Steve turned to Chelsea. ‘Mix a little bile into the feel-good. That’s the trick. Light and shade.’
Chelsea looked up. ‘If it’s going to balance out the rest of the show, it’s not the worst idea.’
Blake swallowed hard. Chelsea wasn’t cruel. She was just focused. And strategic, she had to give Steve something. And maybe that made it worse.
Sam cut in, firmer this time. ‘She’s already giving you everything. Her whole life. Her kid’s privacy.’
His voice wasn’t sharp. It was protective. Like he knew better.
And that made it worse.
Sam turned to Blake. ‘Morgan’s name is already out there now. If this is getting too much…you don’t have to keep going. I know the station wants this. But maybe it’s time to think about what’s best for your daughter.’
Blake’s stomach twisted. He meant it. Of course he meant it. The concern in his eyes was genuine, protective even. For a moment, she wanted to take the out he was offering. To protect Morgan. To stop before things got worse.
But something in her bristled, hot and sharp and defensive. The words came before she could stop them.
‘Don’t tell me what’s too much for my family,’ she snapped. ‘Or how close I should get to the edge.’
Sam froze.
She wasn’t done, even as regret started creeping up her throat. ‘And don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you twitch every time Leo comes up. You’re a glorified button pusher. It’s not your job to be jealous of a guy I spent one week with thirteen years ago.’
The room stilled.
Even Steve stayed quiet.
Sam just looked at her. Quiet. Unflinching. ‘That’s not what this is.’
And he meant it, too.
Blake felt the unfairness of what she’d just said wash over her. Her chest tightened with regret. Sam had only ever tried to help, to protect her, and she’d just thrown it back in his face. But before she could speak, before she could take it back, her phone buzzed on the desk beside her.
Unknown Number.
Blake snatched it up, grateful for the escape even as guilt churned in her stomach.
‘Hello?’
A clipped voice. Female. Professional, but not unkind.
‘Hello, is this Emily Blake?’
‘It’s Ms.’
A pause.
‘My apologies. Ms Blake, this is Principal Sharma. There’s been an incident this morning with Morgan. She’s not hurt, but I’m going to need you to come down to the school to discuss next steps.’
Blake stood there, phone still pressed to her ear. The chatter around her faded.
Because this was the moment everything cracked open and became real. This is exactly what she’d been worried about.
Blake lowered the phone and reached for her keys.
‘That was Morgan’s school,’ she said, voice clipped. ‘There’s been an incident. I have to go.’
Steve rolled his eyes. ‘You’re kidding. The Morning Show’s here in five.’
Blake stared at him.
Chelsea stood up. ‘We’ll reschedule,’ she said, sharp enough to cut Steve off. ‘Go.’
Blake met her eyes. There it was. Not just the executive producer. Her friend.
Blake nodded once, tight and grateful, then spun towards the door.