Fake It List

thirty three

reysha woke up the next morning feeling like she'd drunk too much. Grabbing her phone from the nightstand, she sat up and, bleary-eyed, checked her email again, hoping last night had been a nightmare.

She didn't pull up the email from Chris's dad, though. The newest one caught her eye.

To: sunbroadcaststationemployees@allmail.com

From: chriswilliams@allmail.com

Subject: Moving forward

Hi, everyone. I wanted to take a moment to apologize again for a few things. The first being not telling you my father owned the station. There's a wall that goes up immediately when new management is introduced, and when I joined the station last year, I wanted to avoid that as much as possible. I didn't want to be judged one way or the other based on who I was. I didn't expect that you'd all become more than employees. The family atmosphere you've created, despite the numerous changes you've all endured over the past few years, is remarkable and commendable. I'm honored to have been part of that. I regret any hurt I've caused by not being entirely honest.

Going forward, that will change. I know that you've all received the email from my father. He wasted no time there. It's true. The station is being sold, but I want all of you to know that your jobs are safe. I know I don't deserve your trust, but if you can find a way to do that, trust me, for just a bit, I will explain everything. I need to return to New York, but I will be back. In my absence, Mari will take over as station manager, and Mason will produce his own show.

When I get back, I'd like to have a meeting with all of you. By then, I'll have more answers to the many questions I'm sure you'll have. For now, please know that in all the years I've been jumping into my father's newest acquisitions, I've never felt more at home than I did with all of you.

Sincerely,

Chris

Blinking away the tears that formed, Reysha wiped her cheeks with one hand, staring at the email with the other. He was returning to New York. The station was sold. Your job is fine. Why didn't that feel like more of a relief?

She pulled up another email. It was the post she'd never made public. She'd emailed it to herself and posted an entirely different one for the station website. That one had explained that her heart wasn't ready to make a choice despite some great options. It had, in her opinion, been funny and poignant—closure to an experience that had taught her more than she'd ever expected.

A text popped up on her screen.

STACEY:You okay?

REYSHA:Yeah. Just got up. Reading the email.

STACEY:I figured. You okay?

REYSHA:You just asked that.

STACEY:I know, but you lied the first time.

she laughed out loud as she typed.

REYSHA:I guess I don't need to avoid work today.

STACEY:Is that what you'd have done? Weird. I thought you were shy, not a coward.

Surprise widened her gaze.

REYSHA:Ouch.

STACEY:We all have our quirks. Mine is being bluntly honest.

REYSHA:Noted.

STACEY:Will you call him? Text him? Have his babies?

Renewed sadness swamped her, but she didn't cry. No more tears.