One Last Time(7)

I’m not sure how comfortable I am covering Eli and his friends, but . . . it’s a job.

One that I know I’m going to suck at. I can’t remember the last adult television show I watched, and I’ve never even seen A Thin Blue Line, which is something Eli finds hilarious since he was the star. Following celebrities was the last thing I cared about with everything going on in my life. I’m not even sure who is popular now . . . I wonder if people still like Josh Hartnett? He was my ultimate crush.

While my friends like Nicole were soaking up the gossip, I was focused on the PTA, the community book club, and Scott’s work functions. But, after spending the last two months scouring for something and coming up short, I can’t be picky. If I had any other choice for a job, I’d take it, but the hours are perfect for a single mom. I can work from home at least three days a week, which means I can still do the things that I’ve come to love doing for my kids.

My lawyer told me it’s actually perfect in case Scott changes his tune and suddenly wants custody. I’ll be home with them for the most part, earning a salary, and have the flexibility that no judge could argue with. This job tosses any reservations he has about me out the window. I have to succeed.

Plus, my lawyer has basically said if I want to ensure I maintain custody of the kids, I need to show a stable income.

“Are we going to Dad’s this weekend?” Finn asks as I make the drive to Danni’s house.

“Yes.” I glance at him in the rearview mirror.

He shakes his head and pops his earbuds back in. Clearly, he isn’t getting any better with adjusting to our new living arrangements. I’m not sure what to say at this point because nothing seems to make a difference.

Aubrey gives me a sweet smile and then looks out the window. It’s hard to believe how old they’re getting. Finn is ten and Aubrey just turned six, but they are both too young to have their worlds flipped. They’ve been handling things well, though. The last month we were in the house was tough, but now that we’re in our new home, the normalcy will come.

We reach Danielle’s house with a little time to spare, but she’s already waiting for us.

“Hey,” I say when she opens the door.

Danni looks at me and laughs. I can’t blame her, my keys are in my teeth, the bag holding Aubrey’s toys is half-open and everything is spilling out, and my shirt is only half-tucked in. I’m the definition of a hot mess.

“Give me the bag, Kris.”

I hand it over and try to right myself. “Bad morning.”

“It’s your first day back to work in a long ass time. You’ve got this.”

Right now, I don’t feel like I’ve got this. I’m not sure I have anything handled.

I hug both the kids, Finn is more of a pat on the shoulder as he moves away, and do my best to fix my shirt.

“Does the outfit say forty-year-old divorcee with her life in the crapper or seasoned reporter ready to take on the world?”

Danielle taps her lips. “I’ll go with the second one.”

“Good. I need to get downtown. Thank you for this. Seriously.” I kiss her cheek. “I love you.”

“Love you, too!” Danni calls as I’m scampering down her walkway to the car.

I have twenty minutes to get to the office. I added another fifteen minutes on top of that, because I hate being late. It’s my biggest pet peeve, which is why we lie to Heather and tell her to meet a half hour before we actually mean.

The drive isn’t awful, but traffic is a little heavier than it was a half hour ago. Thanks to my planning, I’m still early. I park the car and check my makeup, which is light and fresh. My hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and I actually still have both my earrings in.

Whether I’m ready for this or not, I’m going to look the part.

My phone pings with a text.

Heather: Kick ass today!





* * *



Me: Thank Eli again for me.





* * *



Heather: He was happy to do it. Plus, at least we know you’re not going to make up some crazy shit like I’m pregnant and that’s why he’s dating me.





Oh, God. I hope I never have to write anything about Eli. But he’s famous, which means I may have no choice.

Damn it.

Me: I already regret this.





* * *



Heather: Don’t. You’re going to do amazing.





* * *



Me: I covered politics before! How the hell am I going to write about gossip now?





My head falls back against the headrest, and I close my eyes. Who am I kidding? I’m going to get fired.

The phone rings, and I don’t even have to look to know it’s her.

“Do not pep talk me,” I warn before Heather can get a word out.

“Well, don’t be so damn pessimistic! You’re the one who always had rainbows shooting out of her ass. Now you’re all doom and gloom.”

I grip the steering wheel. “That was before my husband served me with divorce papers three months ago.”

“Welcome to the club, bitch.”

“I never wanted a membership,” I say with a hint of hostility.