Chapter 24

When she heard the key in the lock, Tanya whipped the door open so fast Sabrina pitched forward through it with a comical look on her face.

“I take it I’m not getting cake,” Tanya said.

Sabrina righted herself with a blush. “Um, sorry.”

Tanya closed the door and waved Sabrina over to the kitchen table. “So?” she said, settling onto a chair. Reaching with her foot, she hooked the leg of the second chair and drew it forward, nodding at it expectantly.

Sabrina sank onto it gingerly, trying hard not to wince. “So.”

“Need a warm soak or a cool gel pack, perhaps?” Tanya asked shrewdly.

“I’m good.”

“Brat, you’re fucking great, aren’t you? You’ve been gone for hours.”

“Time flies,” Sabrina said, her blush deepening.

“How much fun are we talking here?”

“The Titanic couldn’t have hauled it all.”

Tanya pouted enviously. “I can’t believe your luck.”

“Me neither,” Sabrina admitted with a helpless little laugh, completely overwhelmed herself. “Boy, am I parched. I need water—now. Can I get you a glass?” Sabrina got up and went into the fridge for the pitcher of filtered water.

“Yeah, thanks. Well, you can’t tell me you don’t know now. How’s he hanging?”

Sabrina set a glass in front of Tanya and giggled behind her own. “An old girlfriend named it Tippy Longstocking.”

Tanya burst out laughing. “I love it.”

“It suits him perfectly.”

“Longstocking, eh?”

“I’m not complaining.”

“If you don’t quit with the blushes, I’m going to think you’re having a stroke over there. Sit down.”

“I’d rather stand for a while. I’m thinking of making Jackson a batch of my famous cookies, anyway.”

“Does he even eat cookies? I thought he was one of those healthy types.”

“I don’t know. I just feel like doing something nice for him. I can drop them off at the station tomorrow as kind of a congratulations gift.”

“Congratulations? Why not call it undying gratitude?” Tanya laughed. “You might as well give him a standing ovation for a job well done, while you’re at it.”

“Twerp. That’s not what I’m talking about. Jackson’s accepting a major promotion tomorrow.”

“Oh. Want some help? I’m a mean mixer.”

“Just hang out and keep me company, okay?”

“Even better.”

****

Simon looked up when Jackson knocked on his doorjamb at five minutes to eight Monday morning.

“Got a second?” Jackson asked.

Simon waved him in. “Absolutely.”

Jackson closed the door behind him and took a chair. He gave his boss a slow smile, and Yeager grinned back and leaned forward, shaking Jackson’s hand. “I’d say this calls for a celebration, but it’s too early for a drink, so can I offer you a cup of coffee instead?”

Jackson nodded. “That would be great.”

“I’m glad you’re here early, because there’s a lot to cover. Cream?”

“Yes.” Jack heard the tinkle of the spoon inside the cup, and then Simon was putting it into his hands.

“Thanks.”

Yeager sat on the edge of his desk. “Marjorie has been with me a long time. Of course you can choose your own personal assistant if you want, but she’d be a real asset to you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of replacing Marjorie. I’m probably going to be relying on her quite a bit in the next few months.”

“Glad to hear it. I’ll call together a ten o’clock meeting with all the department heads and we’ll make it official, but I think we should tell Marjorie now.” He hit his intercom. “Marjorie?”

“Yes, Mr. Yeager?”

“Could we see you in here for a minute?”

“Of course.”

Not five seconds later there was a knock on the door and she stepped inside and stopped just behind Jackson’s chair as he stood up. She looked at them expectantly.

“Marjorie, Jackson is going to be replacing me as General Manager. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I accepted a job in Tampa.”

“Congratulations, to both of you,” she said, smoothing over her surprise.

Jackson offered his hand. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Thank you, sir. Just let me know what I can do to make the transition easier for you.”

“I plan on it. Thanks.”

“Thanks, Marjorie,” said Yeager. She nodded and left.

Jackson smiled. “Now it feels real.”

“Just wait.” Yeager picked up the phone.

****

“Did you see that?” Sabrina asked Tanya as they got back into her car at the gas station. “Was that clerk actually flirting with me?”

“Yep.”

“What the hell?” Sabrina shook her head, clearly perplexed.

Tanya shrugged as they headed off to work.

Forty minutes later Sabrina tracked Tanya down in the kitchen, a look of bewilderment on her face. “It happened again,” she said.

“What’s that?” Tanya asked, stirring the day’s soup.

“The beer guy was flirting with me while I was making out the check.” Sabrina took a peek into the pot and shook her head. “I go for what feels like years without any kind of flirting or encouragement from men, and now I’ve hooked up with Jackson they’re suddenly giving me the time of day. What the hell is up with that?”

Tanya tapped the spoon clean and set it beside the pot. “I think I know. Guys are probably just responding to you now because you’re projecting that relaxed and satisfied vibe. You’re definitely smiling more.”

“This is so weird.”

“Just one of the many ways life is unfair.”

“Well, I’m not amused.”

Their head cook, Mario, walked by right then and gave Sabrina a long look that turned into a big smile. “You sure look pretty today. New haircut?”

“Yes,” she lied. “Not amused,” she hissed to Tanya and stalked off.

****

Jackson called Van and had him come in early so they could talk privately. Van had no idea what was going on, and his tension came off him like sweat when he dropped by Jackson’s office.

“What, no body cast?” Van asked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“I’m fine.”

“Chipped tooth, maybe?”

Jackson frowned. “Who bet I’d chip a tooth?”

“I think that one was Willis.”

“Wonderful. As you can see, I’m absolutely fine.”

“Oh, well, I guess we’ll just put the money into the general party fund, then.”

“Thank you for taking the news so well,” Jackson said sarcastically. “Can we get down to business now?”

“Yes. What’s going on?”

“Simon Yeager is leaving to take another job and I’m taking over as General Manager.”

Van stared at him wide-eyed. “Seriously?”

“Yes. Which leaves the position of News Director open. We were hoping you’d be interested in filling the job. What do you say?”

Van leaped to his feet. “Hell, yes!”

Jackson grinned. “You were really our only choice, so I’m glad. I have to spend more time with Yeager before he leaves, which means you’ll be taking on more of the News Director duties right away, but I’ll try to give you as much support and help as I can. At least you’ve filled in as News Director before, so you won’t be quite as lost as I expect to be for the next week or two.”

“How soon is Simon leaving?”

“He has three weeks, but he’d like to cut out sooner if he can. The other station is in a bind and could really use him right away.”

“Wow. So this is happening now,” Van said, suddenly digesting it all. “When did you find out?”

“Friday afternoon. He asked to have my answer today.”

Van slowly sank onto his chair again. “What kind of compensation am I looking at?”

Jackson rolled back in his chair, opened his center drawer, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He slid it across the desk. Van put a finger on it and spun it around, carefully lifting the flap. Then he blanched.

Jackson had never seen him speechless before. “I assume you find that figure satisfactory?” he said with a smile.

Van nodded and peeked again, blinking at the number. “This will be fine,” he said, none too easily.

****

Sabrina didn’t expect to see Jackson when she stopped by with the cookies. She thought she would just drop them off at the reception desk for him, but Van happened to see her coming in, and he insisted she come back to the news department with him.

“Look who I found,” he said cheerfully, ushering Sabrina through the doorway.

Jackson was bent forward at one of the desks, reading something off the computer screen. A man and a woman she didn’t recognize from the cruise were reading over his shoulders and nodding at something he said.

He looked up and broke into a smile. “Hey.” Straightening up, he walked over to greet her personally.

“Hey, there.” The warm intimate look in his eyes made her blush. Jackson’s smile deepened and he kissed her lightly on the lips.

“What have you got there?” he asked, eyeing the container in her hands.

“I baked a batch of my famous cookies.”

“Cookies,” Van broke in, and took the container right out of her hands like a spoiled kid. Without waiting for permission, he popped the lid open. “Oh, yeah.” He took a long appreciative sniff.

Jackson laughed at him. “Well, go on, then. Help yourself.”

People seemed to materialize out of nowhere, their homing instincts trained on the treats.

Sabrina jarred Jackson with her shoulder. “You’d better take one or you’re going to miss out.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He plucked one out of the container and brought it to his mouth. “These don’t have nuts, do they?”

“No.” She laughed, and he was already taking a big bite when she said, “I use the smooth peanut butter in these because I want that creamy Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup texture, and chunky peanut butter never works out right.”

Jackson stared at her in alarm. “Oh, no, my lips and mouth are already tingling.” To everyone’s horror, he started gasping for air, his hand pressed to his chest. “Injection…my desk,” he choked to Van.

“I’m on it!” Bonnie yelled, running off.

“Oh, my god,” Sabrina wailed, rushing to help Jackson onto the nearest chair.

Bonnie was back in seconds, already pulling the syringe out of the protective case. Jackson raised his hand and she slapped it into his palm. There was no hesitation when he stabbed it right through his pants leg and into his thigh. Everyone watched, transfixed, as he pressed the plunger down and injected the muscle. He was trembling when he pulled the needle out and dropped the syringe onto the desk.

On her knees beside him, Sabrina rubbed his other leg helplessly. “You’ll be okay,” she said hopefully, but her eyes were tearing. “Just take it easy now. You’re fine.”

Van tugged Jackson out of the chair by the back of his shirt. “No, he’s not. He needs to get to the hospital NOW. He’s not out of danger—we just bought him some time.”

“Oh, my god! What did I just do?” Sabrina cried, running after Van, who was practically dragging Jackson out the side door to the parking lot with the entire news department in pursuit.

Van yelled over his shoulder, “Jack’s allergic to peanuts, and he was going into anaphylactic shock.” Van helped Jackson into the passenger seat of his Volvo and buckled him in, then ordered Sabrina into the back. “Hold him upright. He might lose consciousness on the way.”

“Oh, my god!” Sabrina wailed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

She got in behind Jackson and wrapped her arms around him from behind. His heart was racing under her hands, and she cooed and apologized, moaned and wept, all the while stroking his head and his face and blubbering about what she’d just done to him now. “Don’t die on me, please,” she whispered, her throat constricting painfully.

Van, that bastard, actually laughed as they burned rubber out of the parking lot. “I don’t think any of us thought of this one, either. Damn.”

Jackson was whisked away immediately at the ER, and Sabrina was beyond consolation. Van tried, in his own inadequate way, to assure her that it wasn’t really her fault.

“How were you supposed to know? You’ve got to stop blaming yourself.”

“But I could have killed him,” she stuttered between sniffles.

“But you didn’t,” he said, still enjoying the latest episode of “What Will Befall Jackson Next.” “He’ll be fine.”

“I just wanted to do something nice for him.”

“No peanuts next time.”

“Anything else I should know about?”

“I have no idea, but I’m thinking it might not be a bad idea to pick up another epi-pen for the station while we’re here, just in case this happens again.”

Jackson shambled out a half hour later looking like he’d gotten up from bed two days too soon after a nasty bout of the flu. The poor guy was wiped out.

Sabrina rushed over, hugging him with relief. “I’m sooo sorry.”

“Shhh,” he said, rubbing the back of her head as her tears dampened his shirt. “I know.”

Van grinned. “Well, seems we made it in time, but you look like shit.”

“Thanks. By the way, the doctor wants everyone to keep an eye on me for the next six hours, just in case. I told them I couldn’t stick around for observation.”

“We’ll keep tabs on you,” Van told him. “They give you another pen?”

“I got two.” He patted his breast pocket.

“Any other allergies I should know about?” Sabrina asked, slipping under his arm to support him back to the car whether he needed it or not.

“Not unless you plan to fix me dog or cat meat in the near future. That’s not on the menu, is it?”

“Not anymore.”

Jackson chuckled, preferring her brave teasing over her distress. “And here I didn’t think I’d get to see you for a few days. This has been a treat.”

She gave him a swat on the ass for that one, then soothed the sting with a gentle rub. Of course the rub was more for her.

Sabrina’s phone rang just as they reached the car.

“Hello?” She stepped back, and Jackson grabbed hold of the roof, using it to steady himself as he prepared to climb in. “Watch your head,” she cautioned.

“Sabrina, where are you?”

“Tanya?” Sabrina asked, lifting the phone to her ear again.

“Yes. I thought you were coming right back. John Yu is waiting in your office.”

“Crap. Tell him I’m just leaving the ER, but it will be fifteen minutes at least before I get back. Offer him something to eat or drink. I don’t know. Or I could just call him. See what he wants to do. I’m on my way.”

“You’re at the ER? What did you do now?”

“Long story. I’ll tell you when I get there.”

“You better believe it. Is Jackson okay?”

“He is now.”

“Oh, Sabrina.”

“Later.” She closed her phone and got into the back. “All set,” she told Van in a sing-song voice.

Her perky tone brought his eyes up to the rearview mirror, and he gave her a strange look.

Jackson sagged into the seat, laughing softly and shaking his head.