In between working on edits and assigning features, I try to figure out who this mystery woman is. Nate’s been spending all his time with me since Aaron left. He’s totally put his own feelings on hold to make sure I’m okay. Maybe that’s why he’s intervening in my life so much. He wants to make sure I’m happy so he can fix his own problems. I’ve never had a friend like him before, someone who cares about my happiness above his own. I have to do something to help him. Starting with finding this girl.

I’m tempted to go through the contacts on his phone and call all the girls he went out with a few weeks ago, but I realize they were probably his attempt to forget the one that got away. And I can’t call every girl in his phone and ask if she’s the one who broke his heart. I have to get him to open up about her, and I plan to start Saturday night at dinner.

“Aria, can I see you for a moment?” Mr. Monohan says, poking his head out of his office.

“Absolutely.” I jump up and nearly power walk to his office, which makes Nate laugh. I roll my eyes at him before stepping into Mr. Monohan’s office.

“Please, have a seat.” He motions to the chair opposite his desk, and I can tell by his tone that this isn’t good news.

“Sir, we agreed I’d have two weeks to prove I’m the best person for this position,” I say before he can tell me I’m no longer the features editor.

He holds up his hand to stop me. “Aria, I’m afraid my hands are tied. My orders came in last night. There’s nothing I can do. Effective immediately, Oliver is the new features editor.”

“But—”

He holds up his hand again. “I’m sure you understand this wasn’t my call, and being that you are such a team player, I know you will do everything in your power to help Oliver in his new role at this paper. In the event that he should be out sick, you will fill in for him, seeing as you know the job. I have managed to get it approved to pay you for the work you have done as features editor this week. You’ll see the adjustment in your next paycheck.” His eyes lock on mine and say what his speech didn’t. He’s sorry. He doesn’t want this any more than I do.

“Thank you for the opportunity,” I say, rising from my chair and walking out of the office.

Nate is waiting by the door, and the look on my face fills in what he couldn’t overhear from the hallway. “Aria.” His voice is soft, and he pulls me toward a vacant meeting room. He closes the door behind us and then wraps me in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Oliver bought his way into this promotion. Monohan couldn’t stop it from happening.”

“Do you want to cut out early today? We could go back to your apartment, watch movies, and eat popcorn all night. Just like when we were in college.”

I lean my head back and look into his eyes. If he weren’t my best friend, I’d probably drown in those eyes. Sometimes I wish...

“I have to pretend it’s any other work day. Who knows when an editorial position will open up? I have to show Monohan he already has the perfect candidate to fill it when it does.”

He lets go of me. “Okay, but after work the movie marathon is on.”

“Sounds perfect. Thanks, Nate.” Maybe he needs this as much as I do. It will take both our minds off what’s really bothering us.

Back at my desk, I open my email and start forwarding stories to Oliver, sending a quick message to each staff writer that they should submit their stories to him in the future. Just as I’m finishing, Oliver walks by my desk with a coffee mug in his hand.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” He smiles at me.

“It’s raining buckets out there,” I say, focusing on my computer screen again but realizing I have nothing to do now.

“Yes, but we’re in here. Oh, that reminds me.” He pauses, and I know he’s waiting for me to look at him. I don’t. Instead, I pick up my phone and open the Facebook app. “Aria!” His voice is stern, that of my boss, which he now is.

“Yes? Did you need something?”

I click off of Facebook and go to my calendar. Just as I thought, there’s a staff meeting to assign new stories.

“I would like you to put your phone down and look at me,” he says between clenched teeth.

“Is there a problem here?”

I look up at the sound of Nate’s voice. “Not at all. I was confirming my meeting time. I need to get going so I’m not late.”

“What meeting? We aren’t finished here,” Oliver says.

“Um, I think we are, seeing as how you’re running this meeting.” I turn my phone so he can see the calendar appointment. “Being the workaholic you are, I’m sure you have the stories assigned, right? I can’t wait to see which one I get.” I walk past him to the meeting room with Nate in tow.

“Nicely done. He looked like he was about to wet himself,” Nate whispers to me.

I wave a hand in the air. “I already figured out who would cover which story, not that I’m going to share that with him. He’ll wing it and assign stories at random since he doesn’t know our feature story writers.” Which reminds me... I stop right inside the meeting room and turn to Nate. “With me out of the editorial role, we have an extra writer on staff. I may not even get a story to write.”

Nate reaches for my arms, rubbing them up and down. “Relax. Monohan wouldn’t let that happen. I’m sure he’s already come up with a plan.”

Others start filtering into the room, so Nate gives me an encouraging smile and leaves. I take a seat by the door so I can make a quick exit once this is over.

Oliver waltzes in, completely recovered from the bombshell I laid on him, and takes his place at the head of the conference table, not bothering to sit. “Good day, all. As I’m sure you’ve heard by now, I’ll be the features editor from this point forward. For the sake of saving time, these meetings will no longer continue. I’ll simply email you your assignments.”

My hand shoots in the air to stop him. “Wait a minute. You’re not going to let people suggest story topics?”

Oliver keeps his eyes on the table instead of me. “That can also be done via email. I’m planning to cut down on unnecessary time sucks.”

“You consider meeting with your staff an ‘unnecessary time suck’? Seriously?” God, I wish I was recording this for Mr. Monohan and his demanding cousin.

Oliver places his palms on the conference table and leans forward. “I believe our time is best spent getting stories written for this paper. Do you disagree?” He jerks his head back as if I’m suggesting we should have daily office parties instead of actually working.

Fine. If that’s the way he wants to be, let’s see how far he’s willing to take it. “I suppose we can work from home then. Why bother even coming to the office if we’ll be communicating strictly through email?” I level him with a look.

“Miss Carmichael, please stay seated. Everyone else, you’re free to get back to work. Expect your next assignment in half an hour.”

“Emailed of course,” I add, jabbing a finger straight up in the air like I’m Tony the Tiger.

David stifles a laugh as he walks past me, and Emily mutters, “Good luck.”

I know if features editor had been decided by staff vote, I’d still have the position.

Oliver waits until everyone else leaves and then closes the door, shutting us inside. “What the hell was that?”

“What? I didn’t hear anything,” I say, tugging on my earlobe as if my ear must be clogged.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” He kicks the chair beside me, but it barely moves across the brown carpeting. “You were undermining my authority in front of everyone.”

“Should I do it via email next time? I’ll make a note of it.” I reach for my phone as if I’m going to jot it in my notes.

“Are you looking to get fired?”

It might be a better alternative to working under Oliver.

I raise my eyes to his. “I’m sure that’s how you’re trying to spin this. Too many staff writers for features. Tell me, will you suggest I take your former position as news writer, or will you simply suggest to Mr. Monohan that he let me go?” I hold up my hand. “Oh, wait. I know what you’ll do. You’ll have your mommy call Monohan and—”

He slams his hand against the conference table, the thud echoing around the room.

The door flies open, and Nate bursts in. “Aria, you’re needed,” he says, but his eyes are locked on Oliver. His jaw clenches, and I’m not sure he’s breathing.

I stand up without a word and walk out. Instead of stopping at my desk, I do something I never do. I take my lunch break.

“Wait up,” Nate says, hurrying to catch up. “Where are you going?”

“Tony’s. I feel like an Italian hero.” I press the button for the elevator, keeping my eyes locked on the doors to avoid catching a glimpse of Oliver, whom I’m sure has left the meeting room and is looking for me.

“I’ll go with you,” Nate says. He places his hand on the small of my back as the elevator doors open, and we step inside.

I wait until we’re heading down to the parking garage before I let out a scream I’ve been stifling.

“Feel better?” Nate asks.

“No. I lost it in there. I was a complete ass.” In all the time I’ve worked at Priority News and had to listen to Oliver’s crap, I’ve never stooped to his level. Until today.

Nate shrugs. “I’m sure you still came off as a complete angel compared to Oliver.”

I shake my head. “Not really. I could get fired for the way I spoke to him and undermined him in front of everyone. Hell, if he pulled that with me when I was features editor, I would have gone to Mr. Monohan and suggested his removal. Not that it would have helped since Oliver can’t be fired.” I want to hit something so bad. I look around, but all I see is Nate. He’s cocking his head at me, and I can tell he’s seconds from telling me it will all be okay. I hold my hand up. “Please don’t.”

His face falls, and he clears his throat. “I’ll drive. You’re too worked up,” he says as the elevator stops and lets us off. He leads me to his truck parked halfway down the row to our right. I stop short when he heads to the passenger door.

“Am I driving?” I ask, motioning to his hand on the door.

He furrows his brow and then looks down. “Oh, um, no. I was...” He sighs and opens the door for me, but as soon as he does, he walks briskly around the rear of the truck to the driver’s side.

“Thanks?” I say, not sure what that was about. I get in the truck and fasten my seat belt, noting how Nate is keeping his eyes forward as he gets himself situated and starts the truck. “Is something wrong?”

He breathes out long and hard and leans back in his seat. His head turns in my direction, but he leans it on the headrest. “I have a confession.”

“You don’t want an Italian hero because you have a date tonight and don’t want onion breath?” I joke to lighten the mood.

“No. I mean, I do—”

“Have a date?” I twist in my seat to face him better. “That’s great. Is it the girl you told me about?” I want him to be happy, and right now I feel like the only thing missing from his life is the perfect person to share it with.

He stares at me, his eyes searching mine. Then he shakes his head. “No. I have plans with you tonight, remember? And tomorrow night. I made the reservation for us.”

“Oh.” I’m disappointed for him, but at the same time I’m...relieved? Maybe I’m being selfish, but I like having Nate all to myself lately. It’s the first time in a long time that we’ve both been single. “That’s great.”

“Yeah, you sound ecstatic.” He puts the truck in reverse and backs out of the spot. I wait for him to exit the parking garage and pull onto the road before responding.

I lower the visor to block the June sun, which seems to be getting stronger every day. “I am. I just wish things would work out for you and this girl. That’s all.” I place my hand on his right thigh. “I want you to be happy.”

“And you think I’m not happy when we’re hanging out?” He glances at me quickly, but then his leg stiffens under my touch, which prompts me to remove my hand.

“We always have fun together, but it’s not the same as being in a committed relationship with someone.”

“Are you saying you aren’t committed to our friendship?” His hurt tone makes my stomach knot. This woman must be doing a number on him if he’s feeling this insecure.

“Of course I am. You’re my best friend, Nate. I love you.”

His fingers release and then re-grip the steering wheel. Did I make it awkward by telling him I love him? Should I clarify how I meant it?

“I mean—”

“I know what you meant.” He turns on the radio before I can say more, so I stay silent for the remainder of the ride to Tony’s.

When we get there, Nate excuses himself to use the bathroom, so I get in line to order for us. The sub shop is small with only four tables for indoor seating. I never see anyone stay to eat, mostly because it’s only Tony here. No servers, no cashiers. The brick building has seen better days, but the food is excellent, so the customers keep coming back.

“Hey, Aria. How’s my favorite customer today?” Tony says, smiling at me in his maroon work shirt and no-longer-white apron.

“You say that to all your customers, Tony. You aren’t fooling me.” I wink to show I’m only teasing him.

He leans forward and whispers, “Ah, but I don’t give them all a twenty percent discount.”

“Which is why I love you.” I laugh, but the words remind me of Nate and the way he reacted in the truck. “I need two Italian heroes to go. Oh, and two lemonades.”

“You got it.”

“Can you put it on my tab? I sort of ran out of the office without grabbing my purse.”

“For you? Of course.”

I move down the glass counter and watch Tony put our sandwiches together. Knowing I love tomatoes, he holds one finger up to his lips as he places two extra slices on my sandwich. I blow him a kiss, which makes him blush. Tony is such a sweet man. His wife died two years ago after a long battle with cancer, and this shop is all he has left. I make a mental note to leave him a big tip next time I’m here.

“What do I owe you?” Nate asks, coming up behind me.

“Nothing. You drove.”

He tilts his head at me. “That’s not how this works.”

“I owed you twenty bucks, remember? I’m getting a jump on repaying you.” I step forward and take the two sandwiches Tony places on top of the counter for me.

“Take care of this one. She’s something special,” Tony tells Nate.

Nate nods. “Believe me, I know.” He drapes an arm across my shoulders as we walk out of the sandwich shop.

“‘Special,’ huh? As in an ‘only my mom could love me’ sort of way?” I elbow his ribs as we walk out to his truck.

“Please. Everyone loves you and you know it.” He starts for the passenger door again, but then stops and drops his arm from my shoulders. “Want me to take those?” He gestures to the sandwiches.

“How do you plan to drive while holding them?” I raise a questioning brow and open the passenger door. He watches me get in before doing the same.

About halfway back to the office, I remember he had something to tell me. “Hey, what were you going to confess? You never said.”

He shakes his head, his eyes firmly fixed on the road. “Oh, don’t worry about it. Not important.”

“It didn’t seem that way before. You were acting strange. You still are, to be honest.” Since he won’t look at me, I touch his arm. “Tell me.”

He sighs and pulls into the parking garage. His former spot is now occupied, but he finds another near the elevator. After cutting the engine, he shifts to face me. “Remember how I was late getting to your place last night?”

I nod. “Your hot water heater was acting up.”

“No. It wasn’t.”

I furrow my brow. He never lies to me, so why would he tell me that if it wasn’t true? “What do you mean?”

“I went back up to the office when I left you.”

“Right. To get your keys.”

He lowers his head. “Not exactly. I had them the whole time.”

Another lie? Why?

“I went to talk to Oliver.”

“You did what?” I squeeze the sandwiches in my fists. “Why would you—?”

He holds his hands up to stop me. “I didn’t. I...”

“Talk faster, Nate.” Vinegar and oil seep through the slices my nails are making in the white paper wrapping our subs.

“I saw Mr. Monohan instead. I tried to talk him out of giving Oliver the job.”

“Why would you do that behind my back? Do you realize how that must have looked? Like I needed a man to step in and get me a promotion!” I put the sandwiches on the middle console and stare at my oily hands.

Nate grabs a napkin from the compartment on the driver’s side door and starts wiping my hands, but I pull them away.

“Why are you treating me like a child? First with the job and now cleaning my hands?” I scoff and open the door, not caring that I’m getting oil on the handle. I use my hip to slam the door shut once I’m out, and I start for the elevator.

“Aria!” Nate calls after me. I don’t look back, but I hear his shoes clicking on the pavement. “I just wanted to help.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t. I didn’t get the position, and I’m most likely getting fired.” I bypass the elevator and head for the stairs, needing to burn off some steam.

Nate’s footsteps quicken, which makes me pick up the pace as well.

“Leave me alone, Nate,” I yell, flinging open the stairwell door. “I don’t want to see you right now.” I can’t bear to look at the one person who was never supposed to hurt me.