The One I Love to Hate Read online

  “Thank you.” Lina shot Jess a look of barely suppressed glee. They’d squeal in the bathroom about this later, but they managed to keep their professional game faces on as Mariel worked her way through the crime beat, then Sports, Lifestyle, and finally, Business.

  “If that’s all for today,” Mariel said, pushing to her feet. “I’ve got a conference call starting in five.”

  “Jessica,” Lauren called out as everyone began to leave. “Stay behind, please.”

  Like she was a naughty grade-schooler being held back from recess. Jess sat back down with a sigh. Celebrating with Lina would have to wait. Schooling her expression into polite interest, she faced Lauren. “What do you need, Lauren?”

  “I need you to take over the paper’s social media accounts.”

  “Me?” Jess blinked at her in disbelief. “Don’t we have a PR company for that?”

  Lauren kept her eyes on the stack of papers she was shuffling and reshuffling with no discernable purpose. Was she trying to look busy or something? “Launching the new website ate up the PR budget. We’re going to have to handle it in-house for now.”

  “But why me?”

  “Well, you’re the least senior on staff.” Except that she and Lina had started at exactly the same time, and only a couple of months after Lauren herself. Hell, aside from Tony and Bill, both holdovers from pre-restructuring, nobody had been there longer than a year. “Stories about broken parking meters aren’t exactly eating up your days. You should have plenty of time for this.”

  Her fury was about to burn a hole in her chest. Okay, so maybe her biggest story to date had been about the high number of broken parking meter stations, but it wasn’t as if she’d been sleeping on the job. She was here to report, not take on stupid projects that probably should have been Lauren’s to begin with.

  “I don’t suppose I have much choice, do I?”

  “No, you don’t. Here.” Lauren thrust a Post-It at her. “This is the log-in for the Facebook page and the Twitter account. You should probably start an Instagram, too, and anything else you can think of.”

  “What am I supposed to post on there?”

  Lauren waved a dismissive hand. “Just today’s headlines. Check some of the other papers’ profiles to see what they post. Keep it neutral and upbeat. We’ve got almost no followers on Twitter, and even fewer likes on the Facebook page. You should probably do some research about growing our audience. Maybe take an online course or two. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

  Oh, yes, on top of her regular job, she was totally going to self-train as a social media marketer. “Sure.” She sighed and stuck the Post-It to the top of her notepad. “No problem, Lauren. I’ll get right on it.”

  This might require a second trip to Ému.

  Chapter Three

  The parking meter story was back with final copyedits, and now she had to tackle her new position as a social media manager, but screw it—she was taking five minutes to vent her frustrations online. On the Collective’s message board, Jess scrolled to her earlier conversation with Peabody.

  PaperGirl: I’m afraid the dragon took a bite out of me instead.

  He was still online, since his reply came immediately.

  Peabody: Uh-oh. Is it fatal?

  PaperGirl: Not unless humiliation is fatal?

  Jess took a deep breath. Okay, having this mini-meltdown on a message board, even an anonymous one, was unprofessional.

  PaperGirl: Ignore me. Just having a bad morning.

  He didn’t reply right away this time. Great. She’d scared away the most interesting person on the board after one exchange with him. Good job, Jessica.

  But just when she was about to close out of the message board and get back to work, his reply popped up.

  Peabody: This might be weird. Tell me if it is. But do you want to talk? Off the board?

  Actually, yes, she did want to talk, and not just because it was Peabody asking. Lina was busy chasing down her awesome new bombshell story and Jess really needed to vent to someone, even if he was essentially a stranger. If he turned out to be a massive creep, she could always just block him and move on. Although that would upset her more than she liked to admit.

  PaperGirl: That would be nice. Thanks.

  Peabody: Are you on BulletChat? It’s anonymous, too.

  PaperGirl: I can be.

  Peabody: I’m Peabody there, too. See you in a few minutes.

  Jess quickly downloaded the app and set up her account. A search brought up Peabody’s name and she fired off her first message.

  PaperGirl: I guess I’m PaperGirl here, too.

  Peabody: I’m glad. I’ve grown fond of that name.

  She blinked in surprise. Was it possible he’d been following her comments like she’d followed his?

  PaperGirl: I didn’t know you knew who I was.

  Peabody: I knew. I always like seeing what you have to say. You care so deeply about things, and you back up your convictions with solid facts. You turn up with some of the most interesting information—stuff I’d have never seen otherwise. Following your comments makes me smarter.

  Oh, swoon! Most definitely not a creep. Her smile grew as she read and reread his text. Something eager and new was fluttering madly in her chest. But knowing he’d actually been paying attention to everything she said brought on a wave of nerves.

  PaperGirl: So you’ve been reading all my crusading rants? That’s a little embarrassing. I can get carried away.

  Peabody: Those rants inspire me. Too many people in this world are more invested in being ironic or sarcastic. Caring is uncool. But the world needs people who care.

  PaperGirl: I’ll confess; I knew who you were, too. I love reading your posts. They’re always intelligent and heartfelt. I know what you mean about snark and irony. It’s so refreshing to see someone being genuine, being passionate about something.

  Peabody: I haven’t always been so genuine. Nice to know I’m improving.

  PaperGirl: Aren’t we all improving? Nobody’s born perfect.

  Jess thought back to that confrontation with Alex Drake earlier, lobbing insults and shouting in the street. Not her finest moment.

  PaperGirl: Some days (like today) I feel like a walking disaster.

  Peabody: Same here. It seems like some days, despite your best efforts, your worst side comes out.

  PaperGirl: Exactly!

  Peabody: Well, if it makes you feel any better today, you don’t seem like a walking disaster. Honestly, you seem pretty great to me.

  Jess pressed her free hand to her blushing cheek. Grinning madly, she seized the moment and typed out a reply.

  PaperGirl: Thanks. You seem pretty great, too.

  Peabody: I’m glad we’ve finally met, even if it’s just here.

  PaperGirl: Me, too.

  Peabody: Okay, do you want to talk about your dragon? I’m a good listener.

  PaperGirl: You’re an excellent listener. But are you sure? It’s not really your problem.

  Peabody: I’m sure. Shoot.

  So Jess told him all about Lauren, leaving out anything identifying as she outlined Lauren’s general incompetence coupled with her paranoid insecurity, and how all of it seemed to be focusing in on her.

  Peabody: It’s unfair, I know, but you’ll probably have to wait it out. If she’s that incompetent, eventually somebody’s going to notice.

  PaperGirl: It’s just tough. I love this job. It’s been my dream for as long as I’ve had a dream.

  Peabody: And she’s making it miserable for you.

  PaperGirl: Worse, she keeps getting in the way of me doing it well. Like this morning. She shoved a totally inappropriate assignment off on me, so instead of doing what I was hired to do, I’m going to be wasting my time on this.

  Peabody: That’s really frustrating. I’m sorr
y.

  PaperGirl: It’s okay. I’ll make it work somehow. How about you? How are you holding up under all that weight?

  Peabody: You remember that?

  PaperGirl: I remember everything you say.

  Peabody: Duly noted. I’ll try not to say anything too stupid, so I don’t spoil your good opinion of me.

  PaperGirl: That could never happen. So about that weight... I’m a good listener, too.

  Peabody: Well, the weight is...heavy.

  PaperGirl: I’m sorry.

  Peabody: That’s okay. I’m very fortunate. I really have no room to complain.

  PaperGirl: Oh, come on! Everybody complains. It’s human nature.

  Peabody: Well, I shouldn’t complain. It’s selfish of me.

  PaperGirl: The fact that you’re aware of that means you’re not being selfish. If you want to complain, I’ll listen, and I’ll never call you a selfish jerk.

  Peabody: I’ll try never to be one. Assuming you want to keep talking?

  PaperGirl: I definitely want to keep talking.

  “Jessica. How are those social media accounts coming?”

  Jess dropped her phone on her desk with a clatter and spun around to find Lauren looming over her.

  “Geez, Lauren, you scared me.” She retrieved her phone and waved it as proof. “Fine. They’re coming along fine.”

  Lauren gave her a tight nod and stalked away.

  PaperGirl: I have to go. The dragon just blasted me with a little fire.

  Peabody: Careful you don’t get burned.

  PaperGirl: I’ll do my best.

  Peabody: Can we talk again soon? This was fun.

  PaperGirl: I would love that. And yes, this was fun. Thanks for listening. I needed that today.

  Peabody: So did I. Have a good day, PaperGirl.

  For several long minutes, she just stared into space, thinking about their conversation. Peabody was fantastic. Smart, kind, considerate. If she’d had a teeny crush before, it was a full-blown infatuation now. And he liked her, too! She hadn’t felt butterflies like this over a guy since...well, it had been a really long time.

  But real life loomed, so Peabody and this crazy new thing they’d started would have to wait until later. She had some social media to manage. Dutifully, she logged into the Daily Post Facebook and Twitter accounts.

  Lauren had done a slapdash job of opening the accounts and following a handful of obvious media outlets. The Brooklyn Daily Post itself had thus far only tweeted twice.

  @Brooklyn_Daily_Post Excited to join the social media revolution!

  @Brooklyn_Daily_Post We report the news you need to know!

  Wow, Lauren really sucked at this.

  Lucky for Lauren, Jess knew a thing or two about Twitter. Her Facebook languished, but Jess’s Twitter was on fire. She was the smartest, wittiest version of herself there.

  But what did a newspaper tweet? After perusing the Twitter timelines of a few papers, she learned that most tweeted headlines, just as Lauren had suggested. But that was so boring. Tweeting nothing but headlines and plugs for subscriptions was a death sentence. They’d never get new followers with content like that.

  Still musing, she scrolled through the timelines of a few papers, and then clicked on their accounts to see who they followed. More papers. It was like a snake eating its tail. Halfway down the list of users followed by the Syracuse Post, she saw the Twitter handle for @ClickNews. She’d seen it before, of course. ClickNews’s entire platform was social media. They had nearly three million Twitter followers and a thriving Facebook presence. You couldn’t be online without encountering some of their stories.

  Already cursing her own curiosity, she clicked the profile to check out their timeline.

  @ClickNews Beyoncé threw herself a birthday party and she’s truly living her best life.

  @ClickNews This woman’s reaction to her husband’s big surprise is taking over the internet!

  It was pretty much exactly what she’d expected, except that interspersed with the celebrity gossip and pop culture randomness, there were tweets about some actual news. Well, the stories were solid, even if ClickNews’s delivery made her want to claw her eyes out.

  @ClickNews Climate scientists unveil shocking new findings at Canadian environmental summit.

  Followed by a volcano emoji. Seriously.

  @ClickNews Suicide bombers send Azerbaijan’s capital into chaos.

  *bomb emoji* *sad-face*

  Okay, those last two emojis were just in her imagination, but she wouldn’t put it past them. It was insulting, the way they took legitimate news and distilled it down to a movie poster tagline...punctuated with emojis.

  She scrolled a little farther down. Odd, they weren’t all headline tweets. Some were almost conversational, the kind an actual person would tweet.

  @ClickNews Halloween was last week & there’s already Christmas stuff in the stores. Isn’t there a federally mandated blackout window? There should be.

  Then a quote tweet, featuring one of ClickNews’s own articles about the Prime Minister of Sweden’s recent meltdown in the middle of a press conference.

  @ClickNews If the Prime Minister of Sweden is annoyed by personal questions, maybe he shouldn’t have eloped with his twenty-year-old nanny. Just saying.

  That one made her laugh out loud.

  It was pretty brilliant, actually. It gave a sense of personality to what was essentially a corporation’s public face. Who wrote tweets like that? Not some lowly staffer like her. ClickNews probably paid a high-level corporate PR firm to carefully craft those tweets so they hit the perfect sweet spot between snark and wit. Grudgingly, she had to admit to being a little impressed. Plus, despite the new 280-character Twitter limit, they kept their tweets short, which she respected. It took skill to be clever in 140 characters.

  She’d lost track of how long she’d been scrolling through the ClickNews feed when one tweet brought her up short.

  @ClickNews New study finds 71% of millennials cite ClickNews as their primary source of news. You’re welcome.

  Ugh. Really? Really?

  Fueled by a heady flare of indignation, her thumbs quickly typed out a reply to the tweet and she hit post.

  And there it was, her first tweet on the Brooklyn Daily Post’s Twitter feed.

  @Brooklyn_Daily_Post @ClickNews encapsulating everything wrong with the modern world in 140 characters. Well done.

  Ah, hell, that was too much, right? Too biting? Maybe she should delete it.

  But as she tapped it to send it to the trash, a notification popped up. The tweet had been liked. As she watched, another like popped up.

  Okay, it was too late to delete the tweet. It would just draw more attention if she did. Learn from Watergate—it’s not the crime, but the cover-up that sinks you. Besides, it had two likes, which was two more likes than any of Lauren’s tweets had gotten. Deep breath. Relax. A little attention was good, right? And it wasn’t like anyone important was going to see it.

  Chapter Four

  Spending Friday night at the housewarming party of your ex-boyfriend and his fiancée could have been worse than a dentist visit, if the ex had been anyone other than Josh, and if he wasn’t clearly so head over heels in love with Caitlin. For Jess, it was a relief, seeing him so happy.

  “Jess! So glad you could make it.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. Since he had started working as a junior editor at a TV news station, Josh had trimmed his shaggy blond surfer curls, but that disarming, sweet smile was just the same.

  “Of course! I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Caitlin’s voice rang out from somewhere behind Josh. “Jo-osh! I need you in the kitchen, sweetie!”

  His face lit up with a smitten smile. “She needs me. Come on in and make yourselves comfortable.”

  “The two of them are sweet e
nough to give you a toothache,” Lina said fondly, watching him go.

  “Tell me about it. Now, let’s find beers before we have to convince all our old classmates how great our lives are.”

  Half an hour later, they were catching up on jobs and boyfriends—or rather the lack of boyfriends—with Brooke, another veteran from the college paper, when Jess glimpsed the one face she’d hoped not to see again anytime soon. Certainly not twice in one day. Everything she’d experienced during their confrontation that morning—the rapid breathing, the pounding heart, the flushed skin—came rushing right back in.

  “Alex is here,” she whispered to Lina. “I just can’t escape him.”

  Lina followed Jess’s subtle head nod across the room. “Damn, he’s looking good.”

  “Lina!” She wasn’t sure which was more annoying—that Lina was complimenting her enemy or that she was right.

  “He’s hot, Jess. It’s just a fact. I never understood why you hated him so much.”

  “I don’t hate him. Exactly.”

  Lina rolled her eyes and laughed. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that. You’ve had it out for him since he won the Newhouse award.”

  That’s what Jess had let Lina believe, but there was a whole lot more to her animosity for Alex than some college writing contest.

  “It’s slightly more complex than that,” Jess murmured under her breath, but Lina wasn’t listening anymore.

  “Oh, no...”

  Another familiar face had joined Alex by the front door. Chase Bennett. Chase was Alex’s best friend in college. In fact, they’d come from the same elite prep school, friends since childhood.

  Chase was nearly as good-looking as Alex, slightly shorter, with golden blond hair and seductive, dark eyes, his lips perpetually curled into a sexy smirk. Plenty of women lusted after him, including—for one unfortunate stretch of college best not discussed—Lina. After a lot of flirting, they’d finally hooked up, but when Chase had blown Lina off the next day, Lina’s long-standing crush had morphed into righteous hatred overnight.

  “Ooh, the golden boys of the internet are here,” Brooke said in delight.