Chapter Two:
Casey Collins gritted his teeth and tried to keep his expression neutral as his long-time nemesis handed out assignments. The plum stories had already been assigned and they were down to the “buried in the back between ads for hemorrhoid cream and arthritis” stories.
“And Casey,” Phoebe Thorson always said his name as if it left a bad taste in her mouth, “I’m assigning you the story about the dog that got loose on the highway.” She refused to meet his eyes, but he saw the corner of her mouth turn up, just the slightest bit, and knew she was enjoying his discomfort. “Meeting’s over. If you have any questions or issues, you know where to find me.”
As the new “boss” left the room, Casey snorted in disgust and crossed his arms over his chest.
“It could be worse,” his friend, Josiah, muttered. “She could have assigned you the plumbing issues in the old library. I heard it’s a real stink-fest over there!” He patted Casey on the shoulder and chuckled as he walked out of the boardroom towards his desk.
He should have known this wouldn’t be easy. Things between he and Phoebe had never been easy. They’d known each other for years and nearly everything he’d accomplished he’d had to fight her for.
It had started in junior high. They’d both run for treasurer of the Honor Society. And they’d both fought hard to get elected. In the end, their competition had led to someone else getting the job, but it had been the beginning of a friendly rivalry. Anything he went for, she went for as well, and vice-versa. For the most part, they were good sports and congratulated each other whether they won or lost. He actually hoped, at one point, that they could become friends and work together. But it wasn’t meant to be.
In high school, they’d both applied for Feature Editor of the school paper. Casey got the position and, in a moment he wasn’t very proud of, rubbed it in her face. He’d realized right away that he’d made a mistake and tried to apologize, but she refused to listen to him, and by the way she was acting now, he was pretty sure she still held a grudge.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He’d have to find a way to cope. He’d worked hard to get a scholarship for college, then spent the next four years honing his journalism talents. He’d dreamed of getting hired to write for the Thorsonville Tribune for as long as he could remember, and he wasn’t going to let her ruin his career.
From what he’d heard, while he’d been focused on becoming a journalist, she’d been traveling the world and jumping from one job to another. Her family was wealthy, so she’d never had to worry about a thing. He hadn’t expected her to return home and definitely never expected her to become his boss.
The only reason she was here now was because her grandfather had become ill. He’d started the newspaper, Thorsonville Tribune, and been the editor-in-chief for the last 40 years. Casey idolized him and when he’d had a stroke and had to step down, it had broken his heart. When he’d heard that Phoebe was coming home to run the paper, he suspected it might be awkward, but he never thought she’d be so petty towards him.
He shook his head. He’d give her some time. She was just settling into her new role. He’d write the best “dog loose on a highway” story she’d ever read. And soon, he was sure, she’d see his value as a writer and give him some of the juicy, page one stories. He rubbed his hands together and headed for his desk, already writing the first paragraph in his head.
3 Weeks Later
“And that’s it for today. Everyone clear on their assignments? Good!”
As Phoebe grabbed her papers and laptop, Casey’s mouth dropped open. Josiah raised his eyebrows at him and shook his head, slightly, but Casey ignored him.
“Ahem,” he said.
Phoebe stopped and turned to look at him. “Problem, Casey?”
“Well, yes, there’s a problem. You haven’t assigned me any stories for the last two weeks.”
She sighed and set her things down on the end of the table. She crossed her arms and glared at him. “So?”
“So? Really, that’s all you have to say to me?”
The rest of the team scurried out of the boardroom, but he was so furious he didn’t even notice. They stared at each other for a few minutes, the silence charged with tension and something he couldn’t quite identify.
“What is your problem?”
“My problem?” she repeated. “You think I’m the one with the problem?”
“Well, yeah. Before you came back, I was slowly working my way up the ladder. Each story a little more important than the one before. Now you either give me nonsense stories or nothing at all. The only thing that’s changed is you, so yeah, it must be you with the problem.”
He watched as her face flushed red and felt a sick little twist in his stomach. In high school, he’d delighted in tormenting her and would have considered her flushed face a victory. But now, it didn’t feel like a victory, it felt wrong. Confused, he stood up too quickly, knocking his chair over, and stormed out of the room.
“Hey Casey. We didn’t expect to see you today!” Sarah Carver’s cheery voice boosted his mood and for the first time in hours, he smiled.
“Well, it’s been a day, Sarah. I was hoping to spend some time with the cats today.”
Her bright blue eyes lit up. “You know you’re always welcome here, Casey. You’re one of our favorite people. And this is perfect timing, too. We got a new guest today and,” she paused, clearly trying to find the right words, “he’s a bit of a handful.”
“Sounds like exactly what I need,” Casey laughed. “What’s his name, what’s his story and where can I find him?”
“Well, I hope that enthusiasm lasts,” she chuckled. “He’s already clawed up the first two people who approached him. His name is Tiger. He’s an orange Maine Coon who was tossed out of a moving vehicle on the highway.”
Casey frowned. “Tossed out? How can you be sure he didn’t just jump?”
“He was in a garbage bag that was tied up with rope.”
“Uh, yeah. That’s a pretty clear indicator,” Casey sighed. “Poor little guy. What is wrong with people?” They both shook their heads. “Is he in the cat room?”
“No. He’s in a cage in the lab. The vet wants to examine him before we put him with the other cats, but so far, nobody can get close to him or get him out of the cage.”
Casey rubbed his hands together. “I’ve got this. Don’t you worry.” Sarah’s laughter followed him all the way to the lab.
It had been hours and Casey was exhausted. But he wasn’t about to give up on Tiger. He’d sit here all night if need be. He moved his hand a little closer to the bright orange furball. This time the resulting growl wasn’t quite as loud, and the cat didn’t hiss at all. “Progress,” he whispered.
For the last seven years or so, he’d been volunteering at the animal shelter in Thorsonville. He’d spent a lot of time just sitting with animals that had been abused, letting them get used to his scent and presence. Once they were used to him being there, he’d move a little closer, always giving them their space. Eventually, he’d offer them treats or toys. Sometimes they’d still need a little time, but often, that was the turning point. Once they trusted him and started looking forward to his visits, he’d help them get used to being around other people. So far, he’d been able to help quite a few animals headed for a sad ending find a loving forever home instead.
He’d learned about the shelter from a story in the Thorsonville Tribune. That one article had changed his life. When he’d read about the hungry animals, he’d decided to do something. He’d organized the very first Thanksgiving Animal Shelter Food Drive and it was such a success that he’d kept it going every year since. He’d started volunteering at the shelter every weekend and it helped him get through some really tough times in his life. Thinking about the article gave him an idea for how to deal with his new boss.
He was startled from his thoughts by the feel of soft, warm fur brushing against his knuckles. He grinned as Tiger snuggled up against his hand and fell asleep.
The Next Day
Casey knocked on the editor-in-chief’s door. Normally he couldn’t wait to hear the words, “come in,” but today, he knew he wouldn’t hear the deep, welcoming voice of Theo Thorson. Instead, it would be the shrill voice of his granddaughter, Phoebe. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t giving up on his dreams just because someone didn’t like him. He’d fix this and get his career back on track. Even if it killed him.
The door jerked open and he found himself staring into the startled eyes of Phoebe herself. For a moment, it seemed as though she was happy to see him, but before that thought was even fully formed, he watched her walls go up. She crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame.
“What are you doing here. I’m pretty sure we don’t have an appointment.”
He felt his anger rise. There was something about this woman that always caused a reaction in him. Now, it was mostly frustration with a hint of rage. He swallowed it down, plastered a smile on his face and replied, “No, we don’t have an appointment. Theo always had an open-door policy, so I assumed you would, too.” He paused, then quickly added, “And before you say it, yes, I know what happens when you assume things.”
Her lips twitched as if she was holding back a smile, but it was hard to tell with her. She shrugged and backed up, letting him into the office. She left the door open and walked over to the large, beat up leather chair her grandfather loved. As she sat, he noticed that she looked tired and seemed a little shaky.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
Instantly, the angry Phoebe monster was back. “Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be? Why are you here anyway? What do you want?”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry. I only asked because I’m concerned about Theo. I wasn’t trying to pry.”
She took a breath and tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. “You didn’t answer my question. What do you want?”
Okay, she wasn’t going to make it easy. But she never had, so why did he expect anything different?
“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” he began.
She snorted. “Wrong foot?”
He took a deep breath and started over. “In high school, we were rivals for so many things. But I never saw you as the enemy. I saw you as the person who made me do better. If I’d been up against anyone else, I would have taken the easy road and done the bare minimum. But with you, I knew I had to work 5, hell, 10 times harder just to reach your level. And it seemed like when I started getting better, you had to step up your game, too. I always thought we were good for each other and made each other better writers and better people.” He paused for a moment, looking down at his hands. He didn’t dare look up at her face–he knew he’d lose his composure. “You came from the Thorson newspaper dynasty and I came from nothing. I just want to be a good writer and make a name for myself.”
“After college, I decided to stay in Thorsonville and work at the Tribune because of the stories by P.T. Thorn. I don’t know who he is, but I’ve been drawn to his stories from the beginning. I’ve watched him grow as an author and his words are magical. He doesn’t just tell you the story, he invites you into it. He somehow manages to make you feel it. And that’s the kind of journalist I want to be. Your grandfather gave P.T. Thorn a chance and was giving me a chance, too.”
Phoebe cleared her throat and shifted in her chair. Casey looked up and met her eyes. “Every time you say my name, your lip curls in disgust. If what I thought was a friendly rivalry was something else to you, then I’m truly sorry. It was never my intention to make you feel bad. But now you can’t see past whatever grudge you have against me and it’s killing me, Phoebe. I’m just asking you to give me chance. Just like your grandfather did for P.T. Thorn. What do you say? Will you give me that chance? Please?”
