Broken Rules

Prologue

2 months earlier

"Condom truck tips, spills load."

I can't help but stifle a laugh as my boss, the Editor-in-Chief of the Seattle Sun Times, Andrew Mitchell, announces with a furrowed brow. He's quoting the latest headline as we gather in the conference room for our daily stand-up meeting.

His gaze sharp, landing on each of us in turn, clearly unamused. The room fills with a mix of stifled chuckles and awkward coughs as we all exchange glances.

"Who approved this headline?" he asks, his eyes sweeping around the room. "No one?"

A voice chimes in from the other side. "I believe James Foster did, but he's out of the office today."

Andrew lets out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before he looks back up at us.

"Let's ensure we don't encounter another situation like this," he says firmly, listlessly shaking his head. He adjusts his tortoiseshell glasses and briefly scans his notes before continuing. "Moving on to the next agenda item."

As he speaks, the glass door to the conference room quietly glides open, drawing my attention away from him. She's late. Again. For the second time this week. Juniper is never late for anything. In fact, she's annoyingly early for everything.

I watch as she enters the conference room, scanning for an available chair, but they're all occupied. So, she makes her way to the corner where she stations herself, opposite the room, near the buffet table filled with muffins and fruit. She stands there and quietly starts digging through her oversized white bag to retrieve her laptop, although she's anything but discreet. Not with her outfit practically screaming for attention. Those eye-piercing pink pants and that cropped orange top with ruffle things on her shoulders—her fashion choices have always been rather eccentric. Some might find it cute, others might call it trendy; personally, I lean toward obnoxious.

Her brown hair is pulled back into a low bun. But as she balances her laptop with one hand, she reaches up, letting her hair fall down. Giving it a little shake, she runs her fingers through it. It seems like she didn't have much time to get ready this morning, but she still looks annoyingly perfect.

"Hansen," Andrew says, directing his attention to me. I successfully draw my gaze away from Juniper, who catches me staring at her just as I shift my focus. "So it's settled. You'll take on the piece regarding enrollment at the University of Washington."

I nod. "Sounds good."

I see Juniper's head popping up from the corner of my eyes. She straightens her posture, clearing her throat from across the room. "Um, I'm sorry, Mr. Mitchell, but I thought I was assigned that piece, as we discussed yesterday?"

"Well, we considered having Wells tackle it since he's worked on a similar topic in New York."

Her eyes quickly dart back and forth between me and Andrew about ten times before she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and lets out a soft laugh. "But, Mr. Mitchell, I went to the University of Washington. I know just about ev–"