Shelby
I had never seen a guy so disinterested in Cindy Rogan. She was gorgeous and had everything going for her. She had been one of those ultra-attractive female sportscasters for ESPN, but she had left her job so that she could move back to Memphis to take care of her mother. She was hands-down our most well known anchor—the face of WMC. She honestly wasn't the type of woman who threw herself at men—she didn’t have to. Normally, they threw themselves at her.
It was almost comical watching her behave so vulnerably in front of Isaac Charles and seeing him do nothing but try to elude her advances. It was like we were in some kind of backwards world. She asked him for his phone, and instead of rejoicing and happily delivering it to her like most men would have done, he stiffly took it out of his pocket and handed it to her with the utmost reluctance. I was so taken aback by the sight of it, that I randomly made a silly expression while Cindy was looking down. This stunned Isaac even further, and in the same backwards manner as the previous exchange, it seemed to cause him to take an even greater interest in me.
Normally, when Cindy was around, men didn't even notice I was in the room, but this one was looking at me more than he was looking at her.
Before I knew it, he and I were walking out of the newsroom together. I was on the verge of telling him Courtney was my cousin-in-law, but he had no concept of how close our family was, and I was afraid that describing it in that way would sound like I was reaching for a connection. I considered saying, "Courtney's married to my cousin," or "Courtney's my first cousin's wife," but I couldn’t think of anything that I was comfortable saying.
So, we just walked next to each other in silence for the first few seconds. I spoke to one of our producers on the way out, and when we came to the door, Isaac reached out and opened it for me.
"Thank you," I said, smiling at him.
"You're welcome. I probably should have asked you this already, but can I help you carry that?"
"Oh, that's okay," I said shaking my head. "I lug this thing around all the time."
During this exchange, we walked through a little entryway, and once we reached the other side, Isaac reached out again to open the door that led outside. The sun shone brightly on my face as soon he opened it, and I squinted, reaching down to fish my sunglasses out of my bag.
"Do you really not go out with your co-workers?" he asked. "I couldn’t tell if you guys were joking or not."
"I usually don't go out with them," I said. "But not because I think I'm better than them. We were joking about that. Sometimes I go, but it's pretty rare. I have a dog at home." (I started to say that I had more fun hanging out with my dog than I did going to bars with those guys, but I stopped short when I realized that made my situation sound more pitiful than it was.)
"What's your dog's name?"
"Patrick."
"Patrick?" he asked. "Like Swayze?"
I laughed. "Saint Patrick, actually. He's got spots, and there's one on his back that's shaped like a clover. I'm gonna tell him you called him Patrick Swayze, though. He'll like that."
The van was only about ten feet away, so I stopped in the middle of an empty parking spot to tell Isaac goodbye.
"You did a good job today," I said in a tone that had an underlying farewell.
"How do you know?" he asked. "You didn't watch."
I didn't expect him to say that, and it made me let out a little laugh. "I know because I could tell Cindy was impressed. If you would've been a flop, she wouldn't have been so excited to give you her number."
"I didn't ask her to do that," he said.
"But it was a nice little bonus," I said. "Cindy's great. Everybody really loves her."
"What about you?" he asked.
"Are you asking if I like her? Yeah, she's fine. I get along good with all the anchors." I smiled and gestured with a flick of my head to the girl who had just whipped into a parking spot and was in the process of running from her car to the news van while buttoning her blouse and juggling whatever she was carrying.
"I guess you have to go," Isaac said. He seemed somewhat disappointed, which caused an unknown emotion to occur inside of me—it kind of felt like a warm ember. Maybe I took some pleasure in thinking that he might be interested in me after watching Cindy unabashedly throw herself at him. Or maybe it went back to Courtney and my family and the fact that I wanted to prove to them that I was capable of having feelings for someone.
"Take care," I said, holding my hand out to shake his.
"You too," he said. He shook my hand, and I noticed his firm but gentle grasp as he held onto my hand for a second too long.
I smiled and turned to walk away, waving at him from over my shoulder as I went toward the van. "See ya," I added.
I didn't look out of the window to see what he was doing after that. I simply got into the van, which already had three other people inside. I took a seat next to Amanda, knowing that we would work on her hair and makeup as we drove.
"Who was that?" she asked with great interest, craning her neck to see past the seatbelt. Amanda was married, but that still didn’t stop her from remarking on every handsome man she saw.
"Who?" I asked, pretending not to know what she was talking about.
"Are we all set?" Alan asked from the driver's seat.
"Yep," I said.
He put the van in reverse and wasted no time backing out of the parking spot and getting onto the road. I glanced into the parking lot as we left, but I didn't see Isaac. I was still reeling from our exchange, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on why. Sure, he was handsome and single and everything, but I honestly wasn't accustomed to feeling smitten with anyone. Butterflies were a foreign concept to me.
"Who were you talking to?" Amanda repeated.
"Isaac Charles," Alan said from the front seat.
"How'd you know that?" I asked, looking at our driver.
"Because I just watched the segment. He interviewed with Cindy. He's the architect for that new art building that's going up on Madison."
"Oh, I saw that place," she said. "There's a big sign out front depicting what it's gonna look like. It's crazy looking."
"That's the whole point of them hiring that guy," Alan said. "Apparently, he does some off-the-wall looking stuff."
"I don't know how that's gonna fit in with everything else downtown," Jeremy said from the passenger's seat. He delivered his statement with a doubtful tone that didn’t surprise me since Jeremy was pretty much a pessimist.
"They showed a 3-D model of what it's gonna look like," Alan said.
"I saw that model up close," I said. "It's sitting in the newsroom. I think it's gonna be really neat."
Amanda's hair was a challenge on a normal day, but it was especially difficult today. It did not behave unless I ran some sort of hot tool through it, and since I didn't have the option to do that in the van, I chose to put it up. She and the rest of the crew continued giving their opinion about the new building, and at first I was tempted to chime in, but I had too much on my plate with getting her hair in order. They all complained about the smell of hairspray, but I didn't really care. I didn't have any other choice but to use it.
Alan sped through traffic to get us there on time, and I was a nervous, sweaty wreck by the time we arrived on the scene of the robbery. Everyone got out of the van and headed into the store that had been robbed.
Aside from any hair or makeup malfunctions, my work was done, so I just found a spot to stay out of the way while Alan and Amanda went to work speaking with the store owner.
I couldn't help myself. I had my phone with me and I typed Isaac's name into the search engine.
Lots of pictures came up—some of them were of different buildings he had designed and some of them were of his face. Apparently, there was also a bridal shop in London with the same name, and I got some information on that as well. This made me think of my cousin, Wes, who was still in London even though he had finished college. I clicked on one of the pictures of the bridal shop just to make sure it had nothing to do with the Isaac I had just met, and it didn't.
I then went back to the search results and clicked on a photo of Isaac's face. He was wearing a puffy red jacket and it was taken at some location that looked like a ski resort. He was squinting just enough in the photo that I couldn’t even really tell his eyes were green—even when I zoomed in. I stared at the photo—the way his cheekbones and brow bones framed his eyes. They squinted when he smiled, and it only added to the whole look.
I was hypnotized staring at this image of him. His nose was straight, his lips were full, and his jaw was perfectly square. His hair was combed away from his face with a little wave hanging onto his forehead. He had less facial hair in the picture than he did in person, and I caught myself staring at the lines of his jaw and wondering why I hadn't noticed the little divot in his chin.
A text came in, flashing across my screen as I stared at his picture, and it startled me. For whatever reason, I felt like whoever was texting me could somehow see what I was looking at, so I pressed the home button as quickly as I could to clear my screen of any evidence. I couldn't even concentrate on retrieving the text until I had sufficiently cleared my browser.
I smiled when I realized the text was from Courtney.
Courtney: "Did you meet Isaac?!?"
I smiled and shook my head as I typed out a response.
Me: "Yes. He did an interview at the station."
Courtney: "I didn't even know he was doing that. Why didn't you tell me? I only caught the last couple of minutes. Rose called and said I should turn on the TV, and there he was."
Me: "I didn't know he was doing it until he showed up at the station. I think Mayor Bennett went to see him and roped him into it. He said he doesn't usually do interviews."
Courtney: "Can I call you?"
I looked around.
Me: "I would, but we're on location. I have to be quiet and keep an eye on Amanda."
Courtney: "Okay, call me later. Did you talk to him?! Did you like him??? You think he's cute? He's a cool guy, huh?"
I grinned. Me: "Yes, we talked. Yes, I liked him, and yes, he's cool. Cute too. Cindy was all over him."
Courtney: "The reporter? Noooooo!!!!!"
I smiled and shook my head.
I sent a smiley-face emoji back to her, but then I added a second response that said, "I'll call you later."
She replied with a kissy-face emoji, and I stashed my phone in my bag so that I wouldn't be tempted to look at it again.