She poured the wine and let him have a few more minutes to himself before her parents arrived, while she contemplated how best to bring up the topic that needed to be addressed.
"Hugh posted on his socials again," Noah said, speaking first, saving her from having to direct it, though this wasn’t where she wanted to go. "More footage of him outside the facility. He's been so arrogant ever since he made the announcement."
“I saw it, and I was tempted to go to scheduling to find out who’s on the team for this.” She reached for her glass. “I’m surprised he—or anyone at the station—was able to keep this under wraps with all of us before it went on air. Whether we like it or not, anyone getting Matias to agree to an interview is a huge story.”
“True, but we know Hugh didn't land the story. The station has confirmed that," Noah said. "My father laid the groundwork for how this was to play out.” Noah lifted his wine glass, swirled it, staring at the red liquid hugging the sides. It was rare forhim to drink wine, but when he did, he acted like it was his favorite drink, as if he knew everything about the fine beverage. Not because Noah was a snob, but because when Noah could appreciate something, he took the time to learn about it.
"Your dad said Hugh manipulated him,” she said. “Maybe I should have a chat with Hugh’s producer. Let him know there are discrepancies. We’re friendly enough.”
"No." He turned his glass in his hand. “If you did that, someone might think we’re working on an angle. Some story involving Matias, and I don’t want anyone speculating about that. Besides, it doesn't matter how Hugh landed it. The only thing we need to focus on is the fallout and how it affects us."
“I get it, but there’s no way I’m going to believe half of whatever comes out of your father’s mouth when you go visit him.” She pulled a piece of cheese from the board, slapped it on a cracker and shoved it in her mouth. She hated being in the dark, and she resented not being in control even more. It was one of the reasons she loved being a producer. It gave her a sense of power in a field that was filled with chaos.
“I understand you’re frustrated. I am, too, and it sucks that wherever we go, Cormac is sitting in his car, watching. But until we know what my father actually wants from me, we need to keep moving along like there’s nothing to see, and the story Hugh’s chasing isn’t one we care about.”
"That's easier said than done.”
The fire crackled once then settled. A siren shrieked through the city below and faded into nothing. The noise of Seattle was so different from Whidbey. When she’d first moved out to the island, she’d hated everything about living there. The commute was horrible, and if she missed the ferry, she was late for everything. The quiet was deafening, but the worst was the stillness. The slow pace everything moved, even the animals.
But now, she loved everything about Whidbey. It wasn’t that she hated Seattle, she didn’t. But after a few days, it was too loud, too tight with moving parts and people, and she wanted the peacefulness only the islands and the Sound could provide.
"Do you think any of this could connect to when we lied to the network and buried your story?” she asked.
He grunted a laugh. “It could. But my father, and perhaps at least one other person, would have to know we did it. And since we’re the only ones who know, I question how anyone else could have found out.”
“I’ve been thinking about that.” She'd been sitting with this concept since Sunday. It wasn’t an earth-shattering idea, and it had big holes, but that’s why it was important to discuss these things. If they were to learn anything new, they had to treat it like they would if they were researching a story. “Claire."
“Who now?” He snapped his head in Ziggy’s direction.
“Claire’s always finding reasons to be useful," Ziggy said. “While she’s a floater and hasn’t been assigned to any particular show, she’s been tossing herself at your show for a while now.” Ziggy took a breath. "Something about it sits wrong with me."
“That’s because your instincts must be kicking in, because she's thrown herself at more than the show." Noah set his glass down. “She’s made more than one pass at me in my dressing room, and they haven’t been subtle either.”
Ziggy stared at him, blinking wildly. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“Don’t worry, I turned her down," he said. "Every time."
“Every time?” Ziggy managed. “Like how many?”
“More than once was enough, but maybe five?”
“Jesus, she's twenty-three."
"I know how old she is."
"That's barely an adult.” Ziggy picked up her glass, set it down, then picked it back up and gulped.
“Nothing happened.” Noah raised his hand. “I swear.”
“You said she wasn’t subtle. What do you mean by that?”
“You want the details?”
“Kind of.” Ziggy didn’t wear jealousy well, and this was beneath her. But it had still gotten under her skin, and she wanted to know what Claire had done so she could be on the lookout for it.
“Once, she was just there when I left the set, and she tried to kiss me. Another time, she was there in the morning, same thing. But the worst had to be when she was there wearing just her bra and panties.”
Ziggy smacked her forehead and groaned. She hadn't been expected anything quite so obvious.