Page 30 of All That Glitters

“Carson lives in a frat house—he knows he doesn’t need to bother inviting guys,” Paisley says as if it’s obvious, and not creepy.

“Sounds like a terrible time.” I give my opinion as I set my English Breakfast tea on my desk.

“That’s because you’re allergic to fun, James,” Paisley says, and I catch Marigold smiling behind her coffee cup.

“What part of my shoes sticking to a beer-stained floor surrounded by creepy guys trying to flirt with women is fun?”

Marigold tips her cup toward me. “He’s got a point.”

“Since when are you two on the same side?” Paisley asks, exasperated.

“He brought coffee,” Marigold explains with a shrug.

I smile. My plan worked! If only I could afford to bring everyone coffee every day. I’d bring it for just Marigold, but she’d probably get suspicious and pull back.

“Belmore, Sinclair.” Charlie’s voice cuts into our conversation.

I turn to see him standing in the doorway of his office. He waves us over. I share an uneasy look with Marigold. We turned in our article yesterday. Paisley combed over it before we did and said she thought it was fantastic, but there’s no telling what Charlie will think.

We walk side by side to his office, then I let her go in first. She takes the seat across from Charlie, and I stay standing. Charlie leans back in his oversized office chair. He probably thinks he looks like the editor in chief of The Washington Post or a mafia boss. Instead, he looks like a little man in a big chair.

“I read over your article last night, and I have to say, I was surprised.”

His words do nothing to relieve the tension in the air. I glance at Marigold, who’s got a plastic smile frozen on her face.

“I didn’t expect the direction you went in,” he continues. A grin spreads across his face. “It was fantastic! I should have known two of my best rookie reporters would pull something together like that.”

My brows shoot up in surprise. I watch Marigold soften, her smile turning more genuine.

“I’m glad you liked it,” she says.

“I loved it,” Charlie replies. “And I want more. I think this could get recognition beyond the university, even beyond the city. The Thrashers are likely to win the championship. If they do, these articles could end up in big publications.”

Marigold brightens. I smile at the sight of her excitement.

“That would be amazing,” she breathes out. I nod my agreement.

“I’ll be talking to the contacts I have. In the meantime, keep up the good work. I want an article every week. The more material we have to pitch, the better.”

My head rears back. Every week? That’s more than I expected for a series on the hockey team. Though I guess this is a slower season for Thrasher sports. Our basketball team isn’t the best performing, and football is over. It makes sense to fill the sports column with something like this.

“What about other projects?” Marigold asks him.

Charlie dismisses the question with a wave.

“I want you two to focus on this. Don’t worry about anything else until the season is over.”

Marigold frowns for a second but quickly smoothes her expression when Charlie looks at her.

“You got it, Chief,” she says brightly, in a voice that doesn’t sound like her at all.

I know Marigold developed a passion for sports from being around my family, but it’s never been something she wanted to focus on. Neither was journalism, though, and here she is. I wonder when she’ll stop settling for what she’s good at and reach for what she’s passionate about.

“Great. Now get to work. I’ve got things to do.”

Marigold stands at Charlie’s words. We both head out of his office. I close the door behind us.

“I can’t believe he loved it that much,” she breathes out, her hazel eyes sparkling.