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Smoothing her skirt for the fifth time, Rachel Goldberg tried to stop fidgeting in her seat as she waited for her interview. She smiled to herself, nervous, but not too nervous. She’d been hosting Good Morning LA for three years and her ratings just kept going up, there was no reason Serena Wolcott wouldn’t offer her the position as her new Atlantis News Nightly co-host.
She stood as the door clicked open, ready to put her on best tv smile for Serena Wolcott and the network executives. But her smile fell to the floor as she locked eyes with the woman leaving the interview room.
“Goldberg,” Quinn King said, eyes flicking from Rachel’s surprised face, to her shoes, and slowly back up again. Rachel felt her face betray her with a flush. Running into her ex had not been part of the plan.
“Quinn,” she said, “You’re… interviewing for the co-host spot too?”
“Too? Oh that’s why you’re here?” Quinn laughed, “Good luck with that, Goldie, god knows you’ll need it.”
“Rachel?” the secretary said from the doorway, “They’re ready for you.”
…
“Well you have a very impressive resume,” one of the network executives said. Rachel had been in the interview room for what felt like forever, but was really a twenty minutes.
“We’re looking to add a little humanity to the show,” Serena said with a smile, “And while you definitely have all the qualifications, Good Morning LA hasn’t done that many human interest stories.”
“Human interest?” Rachel echoed.
“Yes, you know, child single handedly rescues classmates from bus sinking in river,” Serena said, holding her hands in the air like she imaging the headline.
“Isn’t the the beginning of Superman?” Rachel said, then shook her head, “I mean, at Good Morning LA, we have a big human interest story in the works.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah, it’ll knock your socks off,” she said, “Plus, we’re airing it just in time for Christmas.”
“That’s just what Quinn said about LA Nightly,” said Serena.
“Well Quinn talks a good game, but I can deliver,” Rachel said as they stood, “Just keep watching Good Morning LA, and you’ll see.”
Serena reached forward to shake her hand again, “We’re certainly looking forward to it.”
…
As Rachel reached her airplane seat, she groaned, “Seriously, you couldn’t sit anywhere else?”
Quinn glanced up from her cell phone, “Contrary to what you think, I don’t plan my entire life around making you miserable.”
“It sure feels like it,” grumbled Rachel as she dropped down into her seat middle seat. Quinn had the aisle, of course.
“From you’re cheerful demeanor, I’m guessing you didn’t get the job?” Quinn asked.
“I’m still in the running,” said Rachel, “I just need to do some more human interest stories before Christmas.”
“That’s not too far away,”
“Serena said you had something big planned too,” Rachel said, “But we both know that Quinn King doesn’t do fluff pieces.”
“Maybe this Christmas I’m turning over a new leaf,”
Rachel snorted, “Yeah I bet.”
“I’ll take that bet.”
“What?”
“Let’s make it interesting, who ever can report the best and most meaningful stories in the two weeks leading up to Christmas wins the co-host gig, and the loser has to withdraw their application,” said Quinn, offering her hand.
“You’re on,”
…
From cats stuck in trees to veterans coming home for Christmas, Quinn and Rachel were at every event that could possibly produce a tear from their viewers. But despite their quest to broadcast Christmas cheer, they still played dirty. Between Quinn calling the tow truck on Rachel’s jeep not once, but three times, and Rachel calling in fake tips to Quinn’s show, no blow was too low and neither of them expected to get on the nice list.
But it wasn’t until Christmas Eve that the competition came to a head.
The tip came in that there was a woman on top of the Cromwell Hotel threatening to jump. Her daughter and the heir to Cromwell hotel fortune were there and what would be a better story then a single mom being saved by playboy Adam Cromwell? Both Quinn and Rachel knew good TV when they heard it.
Rushing into the elevator, they both pressed the roof button at once, but halfway up the skyscraper of a hotel, the elevator lights flickered and the elevator sputtered to a half between floor.
“Oh no,” Rachel murmured, “We’re stuck.”
“Great observation Sherlock,” Quinn snapped, pulling the emergency phone out, “Hello? Yes we’re stuck in an elevator between the seventeenth and eighteenth floors and we need someone to get us out right now!”
“Quinn, there’s a woman threatening to jump off the roof, they’re not coming to get us anytime soon,” Rachel said as Quinn listened to the person on the other end of the phone, eyes narrowing.
With a huff, she slammed the receiver down.
“What did they say?”
“That there’s a woman on the roof and they’re not coming to get us anytime soon,” she said.
Sighing, Rachel slid down to the floor, “I guess this is how it ends.”
“Stop being dramatic, Goldberg, we’re not going to die in this elevator.”
“I meant our contest.”
“So are you missing Hanukkah or something?” Quinn asked, a half hour later. She’d taken her shoes off and joined Rachel on the floor, stocking feet in the younger woman’s lap. Rachel didn't really mind, even though she pretended to. It was familiar and annoyingly, a comfort.
“That was last week.”
“Hm,”
“What about you?” Rachel said, “Missing any big Christmas party? Is Chet taking you to Cabo again?”
“We broke up,” Quinn said, and didn’t explain further.
Just then, the elevator creaked and the lights flickered once, twice, before shutting off. Rachel gasped, tensing.
“Hey,” Quinn moved through the dark so she was next to Rachel, but Rachel nearly jumped out of her skin as Quinn took her hand.
“Hey,” she repeated, “It’s okay. You’re fine.”
Rachel’s breathing grew more rapid as she squeezed Quinn’s hand, “I just don’t like dark small spaces.”
“I know,” Quinn said calmly, “I’m right here though, and it’ll be over soon. They’ll get the lights on in a minute.”
“But no one is coming for us Quinn!” Rachel’s voiced hitched, “They’re busy with Mary on the roof!”
Quinn pulled her hand out of Rachel’s and put it around her shoulders, “Yes they are and you know how I know?”
“How?”
“Because I told them too,”
Rachel gave a watery laugh, wrapping her arms around Quinn’s middle. She settled her head on Quinn’s shoulder.
“Can you take a deep breath?” Quinn asked and Rachel did. Then she took another and another until she felt her anxiety lessen.
“I’m sorry I had chocolate sauce dumped on you,” Rachel said after a few minutes.
Quinn snorted, reaching up to pet Rachel’s hair, “I would have thought it was funny if I’d done it.”
“I know.”
“And I’m sorry I got your car towed.”
“Thanks,” Rachel said, “Hey why did we break up?”
“Because we’re stubborn.”
“That’s a stupid reason.”
“Yeah,”
The lights flickered on again and Rachel looked up at Quinn. Quinn was looking straight ahead, practically glaring at the elevator door. Then she sighed.
“I miss you,” Quinn admitted, even though it sounded painful to admit.
“Hey,” Rachel said softly and Quinn turned to look at her. When she did, Rachel stretched up, closing the gap between their lips in a soft kiss.
“Then let’s stop fighting,” she said. And the elevator jerked back to life, doors sliding open. On the other side stood their film crew.
“Hey!” One of the camera men said, “Everything’s fine now! That Cromwell kid talked the lady down and we got in on film!”
Rachel blushed at being caught kissing Quinn, but Quinn got to her feet and extended a hand, “Want to go do some interviews, Goldie?”