‘What something?’
My teeth clamp down on my bottom lip. ‘I slept with Zac.’
She gasps. ‘Youdid? My gosh, you baddie! How was it?’
I close my eyes, flashing back. ‘It was … incredible.’
She squeals. ‘Well, that’s great! Isn’t it?’
‘If you take away the fact that he’s already told me he’ll never move back to Sydney. And you know I can’t stay up here, especially if Oliver is considering me for that job.’ I clutch my forehead.
‘What about long distance?’
The question makes me slump. ‘I don’t know. Does that ever really work out for anyone? Plus, I feel like I’m getting ahead of myself with this conversation. It might have just been a bit of fun for him.’ A sharp pain pierces my chest.
I catch sight of Natasha Harrington crossing the newsroom and quickly say goodbye, focusing my mind back on work.
After I write up the weather reports and spend an hour in the hair and make-up chair, I take a few deep breaths and head into the studio to pre-record updates. My earpiece connects me to the control room in Sydney where everything’s managed remotely, including the robotic cameras. When the light above the centre camera flashes red, and the director in my ear cues me to go, I begin reading the words on the screen the way I was taught to at university: with energy, but not hyper, and with careful enunciation of each word, but in a way that sounds natural. I keep my expression serious but warm, and make sure I don’t slip into a singsong speech pattern.
‘Good job,’ the director says in my ear, and a rush of air escapes my body.I really can do this.
My butt stays glued to the chair for most of the afternoon, the hot lights burning down on my hair and themake-up artist fussing over me. At one stage, Lola slips in to give me a congratulatory hug and a caramel hot chocolate. She jokes about wanting to pour a shot of whisky inside it for Dutch courage, and I tell her not to make promises she doesn’t intend to keep. Robert Knight wanders in just after two and maintains a patient smile while I fumble my way through everything. I pick up on how he sorts his printed scripts in front of him and angles the monitor just so, taking mental notes.
By the time I’ve finished nibbling on a roast beef sandwich from the downstairs café on my dinner break, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.
With the director’s countdown in my ear and lights pointing at me from all directions, I begin presenting the evening news. Robert and I smoothly switch between stories, and when I make a tiny stumble during an intro, a face fills my vision. Zac is gazing at me through the black barrel of the camera lens with a steady, you’ve-got-this smile. I recover and deliver the rest of the bulletin without a mistake, trying not to beat myself up over that one slip-up.
‘You did good, my friend,’ Robert says as he taps his scripts in a pile against the desk.
I thank him and exhale what feels like a lifetime of pent-up air.
I switch my phone back on as I head out of the studio, a series of pings lighting up my screen. Lola is insisting that a few of us go for drinks after work to celebrate, and even Man-Bun-Colin says he’s in! Isabella’s alreadymade a booking at my favourite bar. I type back that I wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Christina has texted a long string of firework emojis followed by a meme about kicking butt at work. I reply with a series of kiss faces before tapping on the message I want to read the most.
ZAC:Shit-hot. Smoothest, most stunning newsreader ever.
You’ve probably got events to attend and autographs to sign, but I’m cooking svio if you’re hungry.
His next message is an image of the Icelandic dish with the cooked sheep’s head, and I huff out a laugh.Noooo … he didn’t.
I text him back that I already promised a drink with my colleagues in Honeysuckle to celebrate and ask if he can join us, but he’s already started prep for the svio.Gag.Shaking my head with a grin, I let him know that I won’t stay out too long and can’t wait to see him. He replies with a blushing smile emoji, and my stomach flutters.
When I reach the newsroom, I find Natasha Harrington leaning against my desk with a glint in her eye.
‘That was excellent,’ she says. ‘Lovely gravitas, but still warm and open. You did great, Josie.’
I smile so big that my cheeks threaten to explode off my face. ‘Thank you.’ After a moment, I add, ‘Natasha, would you be interested in coming out for a drink tonight? A few of us are going to one of the bars in Honeysuckle.’
Her face tilts with consideration. ‘Why not,’ she decides. ‘I could use a vesper.’
I assume she’s talking about some sort of chic Natasha Harrington drink rather than a mini motorcycle, so I smile and tell her that we plan to leave in a few minutes.
Best day of all time.
I arrive home just after eight, my nerves back at their peak over the talk I still need to have with Zac. He glances over at me from the stove.
‘There’s the superstar,’ he says, tossing a tea towel over his shoulder and striding towards me, his olive eyes sparkling. He hooks an arm around my waist and drags me against him, and I collapse into his chest, still thrown by how my best friend can make me feel. I lift my face and our lips collide, his mouthwatering kiss burning through me as my hands clasp the back of his neck.
