Page 64 of Good Days Bad Days
“Woo-hoo. Greg! Hello?”
“I think he’s had the life shocked out of him,” Mark jokes, and I laugh like he’s right. I didn’t catch the nomination, but it must be for something good, really good. Instead of admitting to being mentally checked out, I give Martha a thumbs-up as Hollinger announces the last two nominations, each one more monumental than the one before it.
“For Best Personality ...” We all pause, expecting to hear Larry Torrence’s name. Instead, he says, “Betty Wilkens.”
Martha’s eyes bulge, and Larry makes a very unattractive guttural sound of surprise. A woman has never been nominated in this category before, and we all know it. Betty covers her mouth like she’s holding in a scream. The applause is delayed, but when Hollinger starts clapping, the rest of us join in. Betty blushes, and I have to look away when Hollinger squeezes her shoulder. He keeps his hand there as he announces the final Small Market nomination for WQRX: Best Station.
The meeting room door opens, and Hollinger’s new secretary wheels in a cart filled with glasses of champagne. Stunned, head swirling already, I take a glass and hold the bubbling golden liquid up in the air along with the rest of my coworkers. Martha stands behind her chair, her eyes sparkling like she’s intoxicated. Hollinger stays directly behind Betty, his hand holding her in her chair, while everyone else stands for a toast. Betty catches my eye as he gives a short speech.
“Congrats,” she mouths to me, tipping her glass in my direction.
“You too,” I say back as the rest of the crowd chants something about WQRX. We all drink in unison. Eyes locked, Betty takes a sip and I down my entire glass.
Across the room, I feel closer to her than I have in weeks.
“We must be doing something right,” Martha says, beside me now, breaking my connection with Betty.
“You’re doing something right. I’m just along for the ride—again,” I say, referring to our other joint award nomination. But I understand her excitement.
Overall, this is a triumph. Even thoughJanesville Presents ...failed, we are not failures.
“You know I wouldn’t want to do this without you, right?” Martha says, her warm green eyes connected to mine like she’s sending a secret message through ESP, though I don’t know exactly what it is. Thankfully, I don’t have to figure it out because Mark wraps both of us up in a giant bear hug, planting a sloppy kiss on my cheek first and then on Martha’s, which she wipes away.
“You know what this means?” Mark asks, picking up someone’s abandoned but nearly full glass of champagne. “We’re going to MWBA and I get to meet ...”
“We know, Mark. Nicole Davenport,” I say, deadpan.
“Mrs. Mark Lucian, weather goddess, if you please.”
“You’re bonkers,” Martha says, smacking his upper arm.
“I’m going stag, in case Miss Davenport needs a ride home. What about you two? Who you gonna bring for your plus one?” Mark subtly bumps my side, and Martha looks at me shyly, like a girl hoping to be asked to prom.
Over her shoulder, I spot Betty and Don whispering to one another in a corner. The magnetism between them hurts to see. The only woman I really want to be with is in love with another man, a man who did unspeakable things to her. Am I as much of a fool as she is? Chasing a love that hurts?
“We could, uh, we could go together,” I say to Martha, my cheeks burning. Mark beams.
“Uh, yeah,” Martha says, fidgeting with a button on her blouse, then smiling. “Yeah, that sounds like fun.”
I don’t know what to say after she accepts. Perhaps sensing my discomfort, Martha quickly excuses herself to check in with the rest of our team.
“Way to go, man. You did it! About time,” Mark says, shaking my hand vigorously, his grip crushing my bones. “That girl has been into you for so long.”
“You think?”
“Totally. Aren’t you jazzed?”
“Yeah, super ... jazzed,” I say, trying to match my expression to my words, but Mark follows my eyeline and catches what really has my focus. It’s Betty and Don slipping out the back door of the packed conference room, eliciting a pang of envy so strong I wince.
Mark speaks to me close in a low whisper. “She’s with Hollinger, you know that, right? Like, they’re an item.”
I nod, putting my champagne glass on the table with the rest of the empties.
“Martha’s a fine girl and she likes you. Plus, she’s not dating our boss,” he adds wryly, and I bob my head up and down again. I must seem like a fool to him, like I’m chasing butterflies instead of enjoying the meadow of flowers surrounding me.
Thankfully, Mark changes the subject to Nicole Davenport and how he plans to start up a conversation with her using meteorological puns. He’s always known of my fondness for Betty, but he has no idea how deep our friendship has become—the shared secrets, the visit to her childhood home. It wouldn’t help to tell him, anyway. Betty is taken. No, not taken, she’s given herself willingly.
Chapter 25
