Page 3 of Three Little Wishes

His shoulders—which she couldn’t help but notice filled out his navy suit jacket very nicely—rose, and he blew out what could only be described as a thoroughly ticked-off breath.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” he said to whoever was onthe other end, and then he looked at her and, in that patronizing tone that made her grit her teeth, said, “I’m sorry that my car sprayed you while you were standing too close to the curb in a torrential downpour.”

She stared at him. “You can’t seriously be putting the blame on me.”

He lifted a broad shoulder. “If the claw fits.”

“You aren’t funny.”

“I believe we’ve already established that.” He lifted his hand, shooing her away as if she were the hired help. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to take this call.” He didn’t give her a chance to respond, pressing the window’s lever instead.

“Wait! My claw’s caught.” She ripped her hand from inside the costume before it got squashed between the glass and the frame, staring at the claw dangling from the now-closed window. Even if she hadn’t seen the corners of his lips curve, it was obvious he was inwardly laughing. He couldn’t hide the amusement in his eyes when he looked from the claw to her.

She tugged it free and slapped the glass, cursing Mercedes Man all the way to Channel 5.

When she opened the front door and stomped through the station’s lobby, Naomi, her six-foot-tall, stunning Black camerawoman, who’d recently shaved her head, was talking to her girlfriend, Veronica, at the reception desk. Petite with curly black hair and an effervescent personality, Veronica was the yin to Naomi’s yang.

Naomi turned, grimacing as she took in the state of Willow’s costume. “I’m sorry. If you hadn’t rolled around on the wharf, I would’ve driven you back to the station. But my truck’s new, and I’d never get the smell of dead fish out of it.”

Retrieving a mug and a chocolate doughnut with pinksprinkles from Veronica’s desk, Naomi held them out as if they were a peace offering.

Willow considered refusing the doughnut and coffee to make a point that her forgiveness couldn’t be bought, but who was she kidding? She could totally be bought. Besides needing a hot cup of coffee and a sugar infusion the way she needed her next breath, she could never hold a grudge, no matter how hard she tried.

She freed her hands from the claws and accepted the mug and doughnut from Naomi, taking several sips of coffee before biting into the doughnut. She hummed her appreciation and thanks as she savored the sweet, chocolatey goodness.

“You’re forgiven,” Willow said, wiping her mouth and then setting the half-eaten doughnut on Veronica’s desk. “But if I smell like dead fish”—she totally did—“it’s your fault. Yours and Don’s.” They were the ones who’d insisted that she do the broadcast live on the pier in gale-force winds.

According to Naomi and their boss, ratings were highest when Willow reported out and about in Sunshine Bay. “You’re just lucky the wind knocked me down on the wharf and didn’t send me flying off the pier. Otherwise, you would’ve had to call water rescue.” She didn’t addagain.

As if on cue, footage from that morning’s weather broadcast at the pier appeared on every screen in the station, including the one hanging on the whitewashed brick wall behind Veronica. And there was Lucy the Lobster (aka Willow) lying stretched out on the wharf, hanging on to a lamppost for dear life. Guffaws of laughter filled the station when she began shouting her weather report while her body twisted in the wind. Needless to say, bleeps were interspersed throughout the broadcast.

“I’d like to see you guys walk in my claws for a day,” she shouted to be heard above the laughter, groaning when footage of a seal chasing her across the rocks at Hidden Cove began playing on the screens. “You made a blooper reel of me?”

“Don’t blame me,” Naomi said, pointing at the other camera operators, who were roaring with laughter as the bow of the boat Willow was standing on hit a wave and tossed her into the ocean.

She might not find her blooper reel as funny as some of her coworkers but she knew they weren’t laughing at her… All right, so they were totally laughing at her, but not in a mean way. Every single person here would have her back, and she’d have theirs. Except maybe Don. She moved to the left and saw him leaning against the door of his glass-enclosed office, looking at the screen nearest him. He glanced at her and raised his coffee mug, shaking his head with a grin.

She smiled, raising her mug in turn. Their working relationship had improved once she’d realized he made the decisions he did not because he had an ax to grind with her or because he wanted to exploit her. He’d been trying to save the station. She just hadn’t known it needed saving until a few weeks ago.

A sniff drew her attention to a teary-eyed Veronica, plucking tissues from the box on her desk.

Willow groaned. “Please tell me those are tears of laughter.”

“How can anyone laugh at a time like this, Will? I don’t know what I’m going to do without you guys, without this job,” Veronica said, her voice clogged with tears.

“Oh, come on. You’re acting like we don’t have a chance ofchanging Noah Elliot’s mind.” Willow glanced at Naomi and lowered her voice. “No calls?”

She’d only shared their celebrity guest’s identity with her boss, Naomi, and Veronica. As much as she loved the rest of her colleagues, she didn’t trust them to keep their guest star’s identity a secret until she had time to break the news to her family.

Naomi glumly shook her head, reaching into the pocket of her jacket. She handed Willow her phone, and Willow entered her passcode. No calls, no texts, and no emails from her aunt. “It’s still early. Her assistant said she’d call before the end of the day.”

“But that’s just it.” Veronica blew her nose. “Noah Elliot moved up his meeting with Don. It’s today.”

Willow’s heart jumped into her throat. “Todaytoday?”

Veronica nodded, offering the box of tissues to several of their colleagues who’d congregated around the reception desk, noses red and eyes watery.

If Willow didn’t turn this around, everyone in the station would be crying, including her. They might as well give up then. Tears wouldn’t save the station, and they really, really needed to save the station, she thought, looking at the familiar faces of the friends she’d worked with since she’d begun volunteering at Channel 5 as a teenager. They needed a pep talk.

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