Hope isn’t feeling very hopeful, with the impending holiday season, because of the sudden discovery of a lump on her breast. Will an old love interest prove to be the answer to her prayers?
Hope Watkins stifled a yawn with great difficulty. It was the week before Christmas, and all through the station, it was literally as quiet as a church, which was appropriate, considering how it was the eleven o’clock broadcast. She and her co-anchor, Julianna Lee, were the only ones there at that hour, besides the technical people and the fill-in weather forecaster, Robin Meyers, who impressed Hope. The three women made for a visual treat, with blonde Hope, Asian Julianna, and Robin who was Black.
There was one thing that everyone in the building had in common—they couldn’t wait for Christmas, even the ones who would have to work next week. Hope herself was literally counting the minutes until her vacation time started. Somehow she’d managed to get Christmas week off, and she intended to take advantage of every minute.
Julianna was saying, “And here with one last check of our weather is Robin. So the forecast for next week is good?”
“Hi, Julianna,” Robin said smoothly, smiling flawlessly into the closest camera. “For Christmas week, we’ll have mostly clear skies, with light breezes, and highs in the mid sixties. The only people who might not like this forecast are people who want a white Christmas.”
Julianna smiled. “Thanks, Robin. It sounds like a marvelous forecast to me. What about you, Hope?”
“Yes, that sounds good to me, too.”
The three ladies all laughed. Julianna turned back to the camera.
“From all of us here at WTMI Channel Seven, we hope you have a good night.”
“And thank you for watching,” Hope closed the broadcast and smiled at the camera as WTMI’s outro played.
“And—we’re clear,” said the floor director when the outro finished. “Good job, folks.”
“Thank god,” Julianna said, as she began taking off her microphone.
“You ladies have a good night,” Robin said.
“Good night,” Julianna and Hope chorused.
“You headed straight home, guys?” Hope asked her co-anchor and the weather forecaster.
Robin covered her mouth to yawn. “I have to do the overnight forecast for the website. Shouldn’t take long. Then I’m gone.”
“I’m getting out of this getup,” Julianna said, heading off to Wardrobe. “See you tomorrow, Robin. Nice job.”
“Thank you,” Robin smiled.
“Me, too,” Hope said, following Julianna to Wardrobe. Once in a stall, Hope began to peel off the designer body-con dress, along with the cleavage-enhancing pushup bra, and began to put on a baggy sweater and faded, torn jeans.
She was adjusting her regular bra—when she felt it.
A lump.
“No,” Hope said. “Julianna?”
“What’s the matter?” Julianna said, stepping out of her stall, sounding worried.
“I think I found a lump,” Hope whispered.
“Are you sure?”
“Feel me up,” Hope said. “Touch my boob.”
Julianna lightly rested her hands on Hope’s breasts, just as Robin Meyers came in. “Okay―whoa, I’ll just wait outside.”
“Robin, don’t, it’s not that kind of party,” Julianna said wryly.
“What’s up?”
“Hope thinks she found a lump.”
“Do you mind if I check?”
“Well, okay,” Hope said. “Julianna has been feeling me up. You might as well, too.”
Robin cracked a quick grin. “Just relax.” She reached over and skimmed the tips of her soft, warm, brown fingers over Hope’s pale skin―
And then stopped. And touched the same spot again.
