Page 3 of The Tomorrows After You
The story went that his brother, Brennan, called upset because he and their mother had an argument.
Riot had been going to college for only a few months and getting Brennan’s call put him at the end of his rope. He drove home to confront them both. His mother was defensive and angry, and Riotsnapped.It didn’t make total sense, but for over ten years he swore by every single detail of those events.
I considered my angles for approaching the assignment. I had never shied away from addressing my subjects head-on.Impulsiveis what they had called me initially, but when that impulsiveness ended in truths no one had ever uncovered, my critics were quiet.
But Riot Asher was going to be different. The rumor mill was that he shut down every media outlet that tried to approach him.20/20.Dateline. Even ESPN had made him offers for an exclusive special. But Riot Asher never let anyone get past the“Hi, my name is...”
No, as anti-media as Riot Asher was, I would have to work this differently.
“Hey!”Jacob’s voice jolted me out of my vortex. I jerked to face the door and accidentally closed out the entire browser.
“Shit,”I muttered to myself. It was going to take another twenty minutes for all those tabs to reload.
“Didn’t mean to startle you, but dinner will be ready in five minutes!”
I groaned at the blank screen. Wanting to protest, but not wanting to be rude, I pushed away from the desk and joined Jacobfor dinner.
“So, Nicolette, what made you decide to leave Easton?”Jacob slurped pasta into his mouth, and I cringed at the little tendrils of spaghetti that slithered between his leathery lips.
“Oh, you know, just time for a change of scenery,”I said.
He paused, regarding my expression for a beat.“Not getting into any more trouble, are you?”His features darkened.
Fuck, hadheheard about my latestnoise?
My expression remained impassive. Jacob might have caught wind of it. The World Wide Webwasa big place, but the fine people of Godot still believed the internet was for pedophiles and democrats.
“Oh, you know me.”I gave a phony laugh.“If trouble were a compass, I’d be the navigator.”
He cackled out loud as if it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.
“Any boyfriends to speak of?”
I would have laughed if my love life hadn’t been so pathetic.
“No, I haven’t exactly prioritized personal relationships,”I said, noting the bitter undertone in my own voice.
“Well, now that’s no way to find a husband.”
This time I did laugh. Because I knew he wasn’t kidding.
“I have a few more aspirations in life than becoming a wife,”I said, trying not to sound too bitter.
“Gosh, Nicolette, you were the youngest evening news anchor to ever make it on national television. How many more aspirations can you have?”Jacob laughed and shoved another forkful of pasta in his mouth.
A nostalgic yearning gurgled in my stomach at the memory of my early IANN success. The entire world had been at my disposal. I had travelled the globe. I’d presented breaking international stories and drawn TV ratings an independent news network could only dream of. I was the Bloodhound of New England.
And then I lost it.
All because it was the one time in my entire life Ihadprioritized a personal relationship. I jeopardized everything back then because I listened to my naïve heart instead of my head.
I never made that mistake ever again.
Ididn’t dignify his question with an answer. Instead, I shoveled down three morebites of pasta before standing up.
“I’m going to get some work done then go to bed early. I appreciate you letting me stay.”I offered a polite smile.
“Please, Nicolette.”His smile held a weird expression.“The pleasure is all mine.”
