Monohan calls all the editors into a meeting Tuesday morning. All the email said was there was a big announcement and there would be donuts. I’m sure the mention of donuts was to ensure Omar would show up. He’s notorious for coming in late, but he’ll drag his ass out of bed at any hour at the prospect of food.

I walk into the conference room right as the clock strikes nine. Monohan has a grandfather clock in the office, so we can constantly hear the time ticking by. He thinks it’s motivational. We all think differently. In fact, I caught David with a screwdriver on his desk the last time the clock stopped working. Of course, Monohan had it fixed that very same day. I wouldn’t be surprised if we arrive at work one of these days to find the grandfather clock was stolen and sold for parts.

Aria is seated on the far side of the table by the windows. I usually take the seat next to her, but today I choose to sit by the door, which gets me a raised eyebrow from her.

“Late,” I mouth, hoping she thinks I want to take the closest seat so Monohan doesn’t notice I made it here just under the wire.

Mr. Monohan stands at the head of the table and claps his hands together. “So,” he says in his booming voice, “I’m sure most of you have already heard about this, but on the off chance you’ve actually been working and not keeping up with the gossip, I thought we’d address it as a group.”

I narrow my eyes at Aria, who shrugs in response. Obviously, we both missed this bit of gossip.

“The Sentinel is looking for a new managing editor,” Mr. Monohan continues.

Murmurs ring out around the table.

Monohan puts his hand up to quiet the room again. “Yes, that Sentinel. You all know the reputation that paper has and how difficult it is to acquire a position there.” Monohan puts his hands on his hips. “The reason I called you all in today is because I know the editor-in-chief over there very well. He was my college roommate. We studied journalism together for four years.”

Paul Weston is a friend of Monohan’s?

“While Priority News is a small online paper, Paul values my opinion. He’s asked me to put forward a few names for the position.”

More murmurs cause Monohan to pause again.

“Of course, I might just tell him that my staff is too chatty to take direction and no one here would be right for the job.”

Everyone goes quiet.

I smirk. Not everyone knows when Monohan is busting balls.

“As I was saying... As editors of this paper, you all have the qualifications for the position. So what I need to know is: Who cares so little for what I’ve done for your careers that they’d abandon ship to work for a big shot paper like The Sentinel?”

Several people lower their heads at Monohan’s choice of words—including Aria. This is her dream position. She should put in for it. But it’s clear she’s not going to volunteer, so I do what I’ve always done when she needs a nudge. I raise my hand. “I would.”

Oliver nods. “Count me in.”

Interesting. I wonder how Mommy would feel about Oliver leaving the paper she created for him.

Monohan smiles, confirming he worded this pitch harshly on purpose to weed out the true candidates. “I had no doubt.” He looks directly at Aria. “Anyone else?”

Her gaze goes to me, and I mouth, “Do it.”

“I’m interested,” she says.

“Good,” Monohan says, not letting anyone else even consider speaking up. “I’ll let Paul know, and I’m sure he’ll be in touch to conduct interviews and get ahold of samples of your work. I suggest you get your portfolios ready.” Monohan turns and walks out of the room, leaving the rest of us to talk.

“Why would you want to leave?” Leah, the copy editor, asks Oliver. “You have it made here. You’ll probably have Monohan’s job when he retires.”

“Maybe it’s too much for him,” Omar says. “Being the one in charge means getting blamed when you run the paper into the ground.”

“Yeah, don’t encourage him,” Edie, the opinion editor, says.

Oliver stands up. “You can all go to hell.” He marches out of the room.

Aria stands up and approaches me. “Getting hired at The Sentinel would mean moving.”

“The commute from New Jersey to Pennsylvania every day would be killer.” I didn’t stop to consider the prospect of Aria moving away from me.

The other editors walk out, looking at Aria and me like we’re insane to both put in for the same job. Truth is, I’d be happy for Aria if she got the job. Of course, life without her would be... I can’t imagine it. This is a huge opportunity for her, though.

“I don’t know. I’ve only been an editor for a week. Not even a whole week. There’s no way Paul Weston would hire me.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know why I even threw my name into the hat.”

“Monohan clearly wanted you to.”

“Probably because he feels bad about everything that happened last week. Promoting me, demoting me, promoting me again.” She raises her hands to the sides of her head. “I feel like I have whiplash.

Monohan is a nice guy. I could see him trying to make up for all he’s put Aria through, but the truth of the matter is she’s a great editor. I’ve seen her work. The features stories have never been so good.

I step forward and remove her hands from her head. “You could absolutely do this job. Monohan knows it, and I know it. Go into this interview with the right mindset.”

Mr. Monohan steps into the conference room. “Neither of you has the job yet, so back to work. Sheesh, you’d think we were running a spa with the way you two are turning this into a relaxation room.”

Aria scoots around me and out the door.

“Dixon, I’d like a word with you.” Monohan motions to the table and then shuts the door.

I sit down, wondering if he’s going to ask me not to take the interview. It’s possible he doesn’t want me to leave or sees the jump in positions as too big of a stretch for me.

“I think Aria interviewing is a good idea, but between you and me, I don’t think she has the experience Paul is looking for.”

I narrow my eyes at him, furious that he’d let Aria go through with this if it’s only a pity interview. “Then why did you stare at her until she raised her hand?”

“Interviewing will be good for her. I know she’s not going to stay here forever. Hell, I know most of you won’t. This paper is too small, and you’re all great writers and editors. I expect you to move on. Truth of the matter is, out of everyone, you’re the most qualified. You have the most experience at the editorial level—of those who will be interviewing, that is.”

“Yes, but I think we both know advertising manager and features editor are very different jobs. I’m not even technically an editor. Aria—”

He raises his hand to stop me. “I’m well aware of the roles of the different editors at this paper. You have the leadership skills and experience The Sentinel needs. And let’s face it. You’ve stepped up and acted as a managing editor here more than once. A managing editor needs to know layout. You do.”

“What are you saying?” He has that look like he’s hiding something.

“I’ve already recommended you to Paul. Sure, he’ll interview the others, but I’d bet money he’ll go with my recommendation in the end.”

“I don’t understand. Why have a meeting and invite any of us to put in for the job then? Why not be upfront with everyone?” My head is shaking so much I must look insane.

“Can you imagine the backlash if Marjorie Strauss finds out I recommended you over Oliver? She may own this paper, but she’d jump on the chance to see Oliver’s career advance with a larger paper.”

So he’s trying to protect himself, save his own ass. Forget that he’s screwing with people in the process. I stand up, knowing what I have to do. “I won’t be interviewing for the position. I don’t want the job.”

“Damn it, Dixon!” Monohan slams his open palm against the table. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m hooking Aria up here. Letting her interview with Paul will allow him to see her potential. She’s not ready for The Sentinel yet, but she will be one day and her name will be in Paul’s head.”

But without me in the lineup, Paul would surely pick Aria over Oliver. “I’m still not interviewing.”

“I can’t send Oliver and Aria alone. Neither has what it takes yet. I’d be wasting Paul’s time and theirs. There’s no way he’d hire either one of them.” He stands up and looks directly into my eyes. “All you’re doing is throwing your own career away for a woman who, as far as I know, doesn’t feel the same way about you as you feel about her.”

I jerk my head back. He has no idea what’s happened recently between Aria and me, but the words still sting because they very well could be true.

“Pennsylvania isn’t that far away at all. You could still see her on weekends—nights even when you’re not working late. Don’t be an idiot. Because I assure you, Aria will move on at some point, and you don’t want to be stuck here at a paper run by Marjorie and Oliver Strauss.” He turns for the door but pauses before opening it. “Think about it, and give me your answer before the end of the day. I have to get the names to Paul by seven tonight.” He leaves, not closing the door behind him.

Aria looks up from her desk, her eyes questioning me. It can’t look good that I was conferencing with Monohan after putting in for the position at The Sentinel. If I go through with this and get the job, she’ll think I was conspiring with him the whole time.

I run my fingers through my hair, noticing it needs a trim. Then I walk out of the conference room and into the break room. Caffeine might be the only way to ward off the headache I know is coming. Oliver is pouring himself a cup of coffee when I get there.

He looks up at me before adding creamer to his cup. “I guess it’s a case of ‘may the best man win,’ huh?”

“You’re forgetting about Aria.”

Oliver smirks. “Yeah, like she’s going to get the position over either of us. You have the experience, and I have the better job title. She’s got nothing, really.”

Clearly, he thinks he’s got this in the bag, and my ego wants to prove him wrong. “I guess we’ll see.” I grab a paper coffee cup and fill it to the rim while Oliver adds a third creamer to his. “Heavy on the creamer, I see. Not man enough to handle the taste of black coffee? Or are you used to the way your mommy makes it for you?” It’s no secret Oliver lives with his mother.

He tosses the creamer cup into the trash and storms out, leaving his coffee behind.

“I’ll see if Edie wants this. She drinks it this light, too,” I yell after him.

He grumbles, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. I make a big show of bringing the coffee to Edie, whose desk is close enough to Oliver’s office for him to see. He slams his door shut.

“What’s up his ass?” Edie asks.

“Guess he didn’t get his caffeine fix this morning,” I say with a smile, heading back to my desk.

Aria is turned in my direction, most likely still trying to figure out what’s going on. First she catches me talking to Monohan, and then she sees me piss off Oliver. My smile fades as I realize this makes me look really bad in her eyes. She swivels her chair around, going back to work.

I spend the next few hours updating the ads online, and when I look up at lunchtime to see if Aria wants to grab something, her desk chair is empty.

“Hey, David,” I say, leaning forward.

He turns around. “What’s up?”

“Where’s Aria?”

“She left for lunch about ten minutes ago.”

“Oh.” She and I always grab lunch together when we’re both in the office.

“Maybe she wants to prepare for her interview, you know, away from her competition.” He raises a brow. “I heard about the meeting. It’s weird that you both are going for the same job.”

“Yeah.” No matter my intentions when I threw my name in for the interview, the job is definitely causing weirdness between Aria and me. Telling her the truth would only destroy her confidence because she’d know she’s being passed over for someone who doesn’t even want the position. And forget about bowing out at this point. She’d never forgive me for throwing my career away because of her. I’m stuck, and with how uncomfortable we’ve been with each other for the past few days, this job might be the last straw in our relationship.