Break of Day by Mari Madison Read Free Book Online

my eyes taking in the last crumbs of the cake. The position was definitely open.
    This could really happen for me at last.
    Heart pounding, I headed over to Heather’s desk. She was busy packing her things into a cardboard box.
    â€œHey!” I said. “Congrats on the new gig.” I motioned toher bulging stomach. There was definitely a baby boom going on at News 9. I wondered if Beth would stay after she gave birth to her baby.
    Heather gave me a smile that looked both weary and happy. “Thanks,” she said. “At least I won’t have any issues with late-night feeding after working these crazy hours.”
    I laughed. “Good point.” Then I paused, shuffling from foot to foot.
    Just ask, Piper. You’ll never know unless you ask.
    â€œSo do you know . . . when they’re filling your position?” I blurted out, feeling totally awkward for asking. But I couldn’t wait another minute to know.
    Heather frowned. “I think it’s already filled,” she said. “I heard they asked Anna.”
    Wait, what?
    I stared at her, my heart thudding in my chest. “Anna?” I repeated slowly. “You mean Anna Jenkins?”
    But no. That couldn’t be. Anna had only come to News 9 two months ago. She’d worked as a production assistant like me, but hadn’t done anything—as far as I knew anyway—to audition for a writer’s position. In fact, Anna Jenkins barely did anything at all that didn’t involve Facebook or texting her boyfriend.
    Anna Jenkins could not possibly get my job.
    I could feel Hannah’s eyes on me. Her face was now full of concern. “Are you okay?” she asked. Then she gasped. “Oh God, you didn’t want it, did you?”
    I tried to swallow the huge lump that had suddenly formed in my throat. “No,” I said quickly, waving her off. “I mean, it’s fine. No big deal. Congrats again.”
    Her face twisted; she looked anguished. Which made me wonder what I looked like to her. “Piper, it’s a crappy job,” she tried. “You really didn’t want it anyway.”
    â€œSure,” I said with a forced barking laugh. “After all, I do love sleeping at night.”
    But of course I didn’t. I mean, I did, but I didn’t want to. I wanted that job. Yes, it was a crappy job. But it was
my
crappy job. Or it was supposed to be anyway.
    Until they’d given it to Anna Jenkins.
    Half in a daze, I wandered over to the printers, where my fellow production assistants hung out, waiting for scripts to print. There were a couple of them already at work, collating the morning newsbreak. Anna Jenkins was among them, gabbing happily and accepting congratulations on her new gig.
    My heart sank. So it was true.
    â€œIt’s going to be
so
awful!” she was saying with a giggle. “Oh my God I can’t even imagine waking up at midnight to go to work! It’s like a nightmare!”
    I watched, devastated as everyone tried to comfort her. To tell her it would be fine. That it was a big step and that now she was a real journalist and wasn’t that totally exciting?
    I dutifully said all those things, too. Even as my heart broke. Even as I realized that I would never be a “real journalist”—that I would be stuck in production assistant hell forever until I was forced to quit in exchange for a “real job” that paid more and offered health benefits. And then, that would be it. My dreams of a real broadcasting career would be over forever.
    â€œHey, Red!”
    I looked up, just in time to see none other than Asher Anderson himself sauntering through the newsroom. He was dressed in a crisp linen shirt and a pair of dark-rinse Diesel jeans slung low on his narrow hips. His hair was slicked back with gel, but a few strands had escaped, falling into his green eyes. In short, he looked like a
GQ
model right off the page.
    The cocky smile on