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    Breaking Anchor
    Breaking Anchor
    Breaking Anchor
    Ebook227 pages3 hours

    Breaking Anchor

    By Geonn Cannon

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    About this ebook

    Three years ago, Sofia Kennedy reported the tragic death of her girlfriend live-on air. Still in the closet even with her closest friends, she was forced to suffer her loss in silence. In the years since she's become isolated and sticks strictly to a routine that prevents her from encountering painful memories of the woman she lost.

    Marion Vogt runs a small but well-respected catering service that feeds the elite of Seattle. When Sofia's consumer reporting segment does a story on Marion's company, the two women immediately butt heads. An unintended insult results in a scathing report that nearly shuts down the business. Marion's attempt to defend herself results in a deepening of their conflict until both women are ready to destroy one another.

    They quickly find out Seattle can be a very small town when trying to avoid someone. As much as they want to avoid each other, fate keeps forcing Sofia and Marion to cross paths. Before long they realize they'll have to decide if they're going to hold on to bad feelings or risk forgiveness to discover just what they have to offer each other.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSupposed Crimes, LLC
    Release dateMar 1, 2017
    ISBN9781944591229
    Breaking Anchor
    Author

    Geonn Cannon

    Geonn Cannon was born in a barn and raised to know better than that. He was born and raised in Oklahoma where he's been enslaved by a series of cats, dogs, two birds and one unexpected turtle. He's spent his entire life creating stories but only became serious about it when he realized it was a talent that could impress girls. Learning to write well was easier than learning to juggle, so a career was underway. His high school years were spent writing stories among a small group of friends and reading whatever books he could get his hands on. Geonn was inspired to create the fictional Squire's Isle after a 2004 trip to San Juan Island in Washington State. His first novel set on the island, On the Air, was written almost as a side project to another story he wanted to tell. Reception to the story was so strong that the original story was put on the back burner to deal with the world created in On the Air. His second novel set in the same universe, Gemini, was also very well received and went on to win the Golden Crown Literary Society Award for Best Novel, Dramatic/General Fiction. Geonn was the first male author to receive the honor. While some of his novels haven't focused as heavily on Squire's Isle, the vast majority of Geonn's works take place in the same universe and have connections back to the island and its cast of characters (the exception being the Riley Parra series). In addition to writing more novels based on the inhabitants of Squire's Isle, Geonn hopes to one day move to the real-life equivalent to inspire further stories. Geonn is currently working on a tie-in novel to the television series Stargate SG-1, and a script for a webseries version of Riley Parra.

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      Book preview

      Breaking Anchor - Geonn Cannon

      Breaking Anchor

      Geonn Cannon

      Smashwords Edition

      Supposed Crimes LLC

      Matthews, North Carolina

      This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      All Rights Reserved

      Copyright © 2017 Geonn Cannon

      Published in the United States

      ISBN: 978-1-944591-22-9

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Prologue

      The pages of the script fluttered through Sofia Kennedy’s fingers as Sara touched up the blush on her left cheek. She ignored the sweep of the brush and the chattering behind the cameras. She squared her shoulders and faced forward. The cameras moved into position just underneath the clock showing the time in large blocky LED bars. The floor director held up one hand, counted down from five to one, and dropped his arm as silence fell over the studio. The music swelled and the lights came up.

      Beside her, Del Stockton looked up and smiled into the lens. Welcome back to KCTV Six News at Seven. It’s been a fairly dry week here in Seattle, so let’s head right over to Reed Joseph in the Weather Center to see just how long we should expect that trend will continue. Reed?

      The weather station was five feet to the right of the main desk. Reed Joseph, a tall and husky man stood in front of a wide green screen in an ill-fitting tan suit. He swung his arms and swayed toward the camera as he began his forecast. Sofia couldn’t stand the man; he spoke in a booming yet monotone voice that made him sound as if he’d swallowed a bullhorn. She focused on the monitor set into the desk between her and Del to see what was coming up next.

      A producer weaved between the cameras and dropped a freshly-printed sheet of paper onto the desk in front of her. Breaking news, fresh off the wire, to be delivered as soon as Reed was finished with his segment. She grabbed it, spun it around, and quickly read the text. A pedestrian had been killed in a collision with a bus on South Jackson Street. The victim was pronounced dead at the scene. They had a camera crew on the way and Lori, their director, estimated they would have live footage by the end of weather.

      ...through the weekend. Sofia?

      Thank you, Reed. Sofia turned to Camera One. The floor director held up a hand to indicate their crew had arrived at the scene. We have some breaking news to report to you right now. A pedestrian has been fatally injured following a collision with a city bus on South Jackson Street. We have a crew on the scene, and-- The monitor above the cameras had switched to a live shot of the scene, and Sofia’s voice died in her throat as she took in what she was seeing. A police car was parked at the curb. Uniformed officers were blocking off the street. But what drew her eye was the bicycle.

      It had been moved to the sidewalk, lying on its side with one wheel twisted into an unnatural angle. It was green. It had a navy blue duffel bag strapped across the front of the handlebars. That bicycle on that street corner... that bag. She couldn’t think of what to do, how to deal with the cameras currently aimed at her, the director who was now flashing the fingers of both hands to get her attention, but she couldn’t think of anything except that bicycle and what it meant.

      Del said, We’ll have more information as it’s provided to us. We’ll be right back with Evan Scott’s End Zone.

      The camera went dark. Del put a hand on Sofia’s arm, just above the cuff of her jacket. Sofe? What just happened there?

      The director had approached the front of the desk. Sofia? Is everything okay?

      She pushed her chair back and pulled away from them both. I need a minute.

      We’re back in forty-five, the director said.

      I need a minute, she repeated, already halfway around the backdrop. She walked quickly past the large windows looking out onto the street and down the shining corridor to her desk. Everyone she saw stared at her, knowing she should have been on the set, but she couldn’t spare a second to acknowledge them. Her hands were shaking as she moved down the row of cubicles until she reached her desk. She grabbed her phone off the charger, dialed the first number on her contact list, and began to pace. She could take three steps before she had to turn around and go the other way.

      Answer, Reggie. Pick up your damn phone for once. Answer. Answer.

      The TV in the corner of the bullpen was tuned to the broadcast. When the commercial break ended, they came back to the live shot of the accident. Sofia watched as an officer crouched down next to the bicycle. She stopped pacing and stared as he unzipped the duffel bag and reached inside. He retrieved a phone in a bulky lime-green plastic case. He looked at the device, then touched the screen with one rubber-gloved finger.

      The buzzing in Sofia’s ear stopped. Hello, may I ask who this is?

      Oh, my God, Sofia whispered. She fell back against the desk and put the phone down without hanging up. She tasted bile at the back of her throat, the twisting in her gut threatening to push everything out. She was trembling violently. A producer approached her, mouth opened to say something, but he froze when he saw her expression. He brought his walkie-talkie up as he backed away.

      Del is going to finish the show himself, guys. Sofia’s... incapacitated.

      She slid down the desk to sit on the floor. She pushed her hands into her hair and finally let out the sob she’d been holding back.

      Behind her, on the desk, the cop who answered her girlfriend’s phone said, Hello? Ma’am? Are you still there?

      Chapter One

      Three Years Later

      The gym wasn’t the cheapest she knew, and it wasn’t the closest one to her apartment, but Sofia chose to keep a membership there solely for its pool facilities. It was a beautiful pool, twenty-five yards long and ten lanes wide. There were windows on the short sides of the pool that looked out over downtown, and the room was accessible by a special elevator to which only members had a card. She was almost always the only person using it at four-thirty in the morning, alone except for the half-asleep teenager serving as a lifeguard, so she felt comfortable taking her time to enjoy a leisurely swim.

      She stood on the edge of the pool and stretched her arms over her head. She began swimming when she was twelve, with dreams of Olympic fame. Practicing every day, building up her strength, and working toward the gold, quickly took over her life. One morning her mother parked outside the gym where Sofia would do her laps and asked her to wait before going inside. It was four-thirty in the morning, not even light out, but that was normal for them. Her mother was still in her pajamas.

      I’m willing to drive you here every morning until you turn eighteen, she’d said, in return for being in the stands when you win that gold medal. I want that job, and I want to be there as much as you do. But honey, I also want to be sure you’re still enjoying this. You used to love swimming. Now you treat it like work. If the choice is between getting to the Olympics and the love of the sport, then I think you need to choose.

      In the end, she decided she just wanted to swim. Their trips to the pool became less frequent and more special. She stopped caring about her times and beating her own record and just swam until her arms were sore. She hadn’t realized how much of the joy had gone out of it until she let it back in. Cutting down on her training gave her time to join the school paper, which led to a love of journalism.

      Sofia finished stretching and dived into the pool. The water wrapped around her like a sheath, closing around her feet as she arched her back and aimed herself forward. She went with a simple breaststroke, frog-kicking her way to the other side of the pool. She touched the wall when she turned, pausing only long enough to determine no one had come in while she was underwater. She did fifty laps before she finally pulled herself out and went to the sauna. She stayed there for twenty-five minutes, then showered and dressed for work.

      She spent ten hours a day at the studio, the majority of the time spent at her desk putting together stories for the half-hour (on a good day) she was actually broadcasting. It was a good schedule, with room for variety and spur of the moment decisions. Spontaneity was built in to her planning. If Katie wanted her to come out for a girls’ night, she could work it in. If she wanted to spend the night at a sports bar, she could do that. She could go to a movie, add an extra nighttime swim, or take an hour to make herself a really indulgent dinner.

      Sofia sat on the edge of her bed at the end of the day. The schedule had gotten her through one thousand one hundred and twenty-four days. Now, on the one thousand one hundred and twenty-fifth day, she debated her options. She could finish getting undressed, put on her pajamas, and go to bed. Or she could put on something sexy and go find someone to help get her through the night. She tried to avoid bringing people home if it was Reggie’s birthday or an anniversary, but the current date was safe.

      In the end she chose her pajamas. She didn’t have the energy to convince someone to come home with her and, even if she did find someone desperate enough, just the idea of having sex was exhausting. She pulled back the blankets, set her alarm, and stared at the ceiling. Her curtains were open so she could see the light pouring in off the street, hear the sound of the cars pulling into the garage next door, see the occasional blinking light of an airplane or helicopter buzzing the skyline. All the life out there made it easier for her to forget how empty her apartment was.

      The schedule also helped because it was full of things she’d never done with Reggie. The gym and the pool were new. The apartment was new. She was still at the same job, but Reggie had never been a part of that life. She wasn’t trying to erase Reggie; she was only trying to ensure she didn’t spot any landmines that would remind her of what happened and what was missing. The health club on Market Street, with a sauna that would forever feel too empty to use. The apartment she’d eagerly sold for well below asking price just because she could afford to and because she wanted out as quickly as possible.

      She lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. Bedtime was the only part of her day when Reggie threatened to crowd into her mind. She forced herself to think of something else, anything else, and held onto it. Day 1,124 was done. Day 1,125 was just a few hours away. She closed her eyes and hoped it would be easier.

      #

      They met on a rainy morning at the Olympic Sculpture Park. Sofia had just finished the morning broadcast, five-thirty to seven. She hated the position, hated waking up at two o’clock and driving through the abandoned streets to sit in hair and makeup just to read headlines to a camera until the people of Seattle woke up and used her as background noise while they got ready for their own jobs. She wanted a promotion to a better hour, but her predecessor wasn’t showing signs of retiring any time soon.

      She was walking along the North Meadow, the train tracks to her left and the hum of the highway to her right. Everything was blue-gray and dismal, but that was the type of day she loved the best. She stopped at the row of red chairs and sat down to look out over the water. She hugged herself and thought about being stuck where she was. She loved her job. She loved reading the news, even if she knew the majority of their viewers were half-asleep and preoccupied with other tasks. She was sitting at the anchors desk! That was a huge accomplishment, no matter what time she happened to be on.

      A woman strolled by. She was wearing a heavy Army surplus jacket over a ruffled tuxedo shirt and black trousers with a satin stripe down the sides. Her hair was cut short, shaved at the sides, and she had her hands in her pockets. She smiled at Sofia as she passed, and Sofia smiled back. She would never know why she said something, why she didn’t just let it go as she did with countless other micro-interactions during the day, but she looked at the woman’s back and raised her voice to be sure she was heard.

      Looking for a wedding?

      The woman glanced over her shoulder. Why? You offering? The woman kept walking for a few paces but then stopped. She turned to face Sofia again. What if this is how we meet?

      Sofia furrowed her brow. What?

      What if, years from now, when our grandkids ask how we met, this is the story we tell. You looking sad and gorgeous in the rain, like you were just waiting for someone to save you. Me, dressed in a tuxedo. As far as meet-cutes go, it’s a pretty good one.

      Sofia laughed and stood up. I guess so. She turned and started to walk in the opposite direction.

      The other woman lifted her voice. And this is where we laugh and laugh at the fact you almost walked away without even telling me your name.

      Sofia stopped, grinning despite herself. It was a pretty good story, she had to admit. She turned around again. Sofia.

      Hi, Sofia. I’m Reggie.

      Hi. Why are you wearing a tuxedo at seven in the morning?

      That’s another good story. Have you had breakfast yet?

      Sofia said, No, actually. I haven’t.

      I know a place.

      She started walking again. After a moment, Sofia followed. They had breakfast. Reggie shared the story of the tuxedo, which lasted longer than the rain. When they finished up, arguing amicably over the bill, the sun had broken through the clouds to reflect off puddles and rain-speckled cars in the diner parking lot. In the end Sofia let Reggie pay in exchange for having dinner together at some point.

      It would have to be an early dinner. Maybe lunch. I tend to go to bed really early.

      Yeah? What do you do?

      I’m an anchor at Six News Morning Edition.

      Reggie raised her eyebrows. Wow. I had no idea I was sitting across from a celebrity.

      You’re definitely not. I said Morning Edition. That means when everyone else in the world is asleep or making breakfast or wrangling their kids.

      "Not everyone." Reggie straightened and twisted in the booth to scan the dining room. She gestured for the waitress.

      Everything okay, hon?

      Reggie said, Everything’s perfect. Do you know who this is?

      The waitress looked at Sofia. Um... Recognition dawned on her features. Oh! Oh, my goodness, Sofia Kennedy. I knew I recognized you! Gosh, you look so different in person! We watch you every morning in here. She picked up the receipt. Let me take care of this for you, hon. On the house!

      Oh, that’s not--

      Don’t be silly! Although, could I ask for a picture with our cook? He has a bit of a crush on you.

      Uh... sure, absolutely. Yeah.

      Fantastic. I’ll be right back.

      She hurried off and Reggie winced apologetically. Sorry. I didn’t think you’d get roped into anything like that.

      It’s okay. It’s the intent that counts, right? I appreciate the effort. You’ve managed to make what would have been a depressing morning into something better. I owe you more than a dinner for that.

      Reggie planted her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her knuckles. We’ll see how dinner goes and negotiate from there.

      Sofia chuckled nervously at the open suggestion in Reggie’s eyes, knowing that her cheeks had become pink at the thought. When the waitress returned with the cook, Sofia took photos and signed autographs for a few minutes before she begged off. She and Reggie left together, but Reggie had to retrieve her bicycle and Sofia’s car was still near the park. They exchanged numbers and went their separate ways.

      #

      Sofia woke and rolled over, smoothing her hand over the empty bed next to her. She recoiled as if she’d touched

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