The Honeymoon Trap
Page 4
She pressed a hand to her lips. Life did that run-her-over thing again. Why did everything in this town have to be so connected?
“We don’t talk. He’s got it in his head I should move in with him and Teresa so we can be a happy family again,” he continued. “Got here a week ago, and he made it impossible for me to find a place to rent.”
“Impressively passive aggressive of him. Why would he care, though? You’re old enough to take care of yourself.”
“Control.” He glared ahead at nothing in particular. “It’s all about control.”
“I take it Teresa back there is connected to your dad?” Lucy gestured down the block from where they came as the automatic doors of their building opened for them.
He moved to the side so she could go ahead. “Yeah. She’s his wife.”
Oh.
True to form, families never failed to bring on the worst kind of drama. Which is why she avoided hers.
Lucy scooted ahead of him. A Wet Floor sign near the bank of elevators served as a reminder of their collision.
Thanks to the coffee massacre, Lucy entered the newsroom more than an hour after leaving. William passed the bag of drinks to her and sat at what must have been his desk at one of the cubicles.
Reuben emerged from a small editing bay near the door. “Don’t producers manage time for a living?” He held his watch up and tapped the face. “Whoa. You’re supposed to bring the coffee. Not wear it.”
Lucy’s heart sank. So much for first impressions. And so much for avoiding William Covington.
Chapter Four
William thumped his pencil on his notepad as he worked alone from the leather couch in Parker’s office. In contrast to the bare-bones newsroom, Parker’s office was plush—white walls, straight lines, and not a particleboard to be found. He deserved it. Parker had hustled his way up from the wrong side of the tracks, put himself through college, and worked his ass off to become station manager at KDVX. He hadn’t been handed a thing. Ever.
News staff milled around William’s cubicle, making it impossible to concentrate. Add in the distraction of Lucy, sitting only two desks down, and he got nothing done out there.
The introduction to the afternoon news promo played on a large television mounted in the corner of the office, directly in line of sight from where he worked. A perky reporter with chin-length blonde hair started the news hour with a story about the humane society and their donation shortage.
Not the best lead-in.
He grabbed the remote and turned up the volume. Overnight, one of the largest methamphetamine drug rings in the state had been taken down near Confluence. That should be the lead. The entire town buzzed about it. Both the morning and midday news had led with that story.
William chewed on the end of his pencil when Parker breezed through the door. His assistant scurried behind him with a fistful of message slips.
Parker stilled as the television came into view. Several volunteers paraded across the set with a menagerie of cats, dogs, and rabbits that did not seem to be enjoying their moment in the spotlight. Parker motioned to the screen. “Things are out of hand in the newsroom.”
“No kidding,” William replied.
“You found a place to live, huh?” Parker waved the assistant out and leaned against the desk, arms folded across his chest.
“Barely, but yeah. I found a place.”
“All that time you spent as a kid trying to convince your parents to move away, and you still wind up here. Brilliant.” Parker sorted through the message slips.
“I’ve been around the world. All roads lead back to Confluence, and there’s no reason to put people here out of work if I don’t have to.”
“Still only two things to do in town. Chase tumbleweeds and women.” Parker grinned a wry smile.
“You never cared much for tumbleweeds,” William said mildly.
“Nope.” Parker full on smirked. “Neither did you.”
That was a long time ago. William stopped being the “next, please” guy as soon as he grew the hell up. He wasn’t that guy now. Not anymore.
On the television feed, a dog barked. A kitten hissed and jumped from the anchor’s arms to bolt across the set. Two mutts howled and charged after the cat. The man holding the leashes hurtled off the set behind them.
William shook his head at the screen until someone in the control room finally cut to a commercial break. “You’ve got a plan for that?”
“I’m working on one.” Parker moved to his chair. “The new morning producer’s really good. Hopefully she can turn things around.”
Lucy.
He’d barely gone ten minutes without her invading his thoughts, since he’d scraped her off the concrete of the gas station and waited with her for the glass repair guy.
“What do you know about Lucy?” William rested his elbow on the edge of the couch and kept his expression neutral.
Parker’s face hardened. “Oh no. I’ve seen that look in your eyes way too many times. Trust me, you don’t want to go there with staff.”
“Go where?” William played innocent.
Parker pointed at him. “Where you’re trying to go. She’s off-limits.”
“She’s funny, and pretty.” With freckles. I adore her freckles. And no way in hell was he going to be dictated to on who was off-limits when it came to his life.
“She’s a challenge.” Parker stared him down. “Drop whatever this thing is you’ve got going on in your head about her.”
William’s phone buzzed. “I’ve got to take this. My attorney.”
“Go for it.” Parker’s own phone rang.
William stood, turning his back to Parker. “This is William.”
“Are you sitting down?” his attorney, Dawn, asked breathlessly. “Because the judge just threw out your father’s final appeal. Crestone’s yours. No more appeals, no more court dates, this is it. The company transfers on your birthday, like your mother requested.”
William gripped the phone tighter.
He had won.
Nearly a decade had passed since he’d left Confluence after the reading of his mother’s will. He had not returned, choosing instead to spend the next phase of his life proving himself a respectable newsman while attorneys and mediators sorted out the legalities of his inheritance.
And.
He.
Won.
William had shed tears when he heard his mother had died. He stood by her grave weeks later, numb, tired, and cold inside. Over the next years, he’d fought the image that damn reality show had created. The persona they’d created for him followed him everywhere. Confluence media had a heyday with it. His father had to deal with his reckless son’s behavior, when he should have been mourning his wife. And the whole time, William felt…nothing. Like he’d been the one who died.
Right now? The frigid vise gripping his heart started to melt.
“You there?” Dawn asked.
William swallowed the intense emotion threatening to spill. “Yeah, great news. Thank you. Really. Thank you.”
“I’ll be in touch with paperwork,” she replied. “Congratulations.”
William turned toward Parker, unable to keep his grin at bay. “I’ve got news.”
Parker dropped his phone in the cradle. “I heard. Your dad called.”
An ominous feeling crept up in William’s chest. “You talked to my dad?”
Parker shifted uncomfortably. “I did. You need to meet with him. The Colorado Springs merger is precarious. This is the worst possible time for you to take over.”
What the hell?
That was certainly not the vote of confidence William had expected. “Worst possible time? Sorry my dead mother’s plans and my birthday don’t work for your calendar.”
“That’s not what I meant, man. You know that. Your dad’s pissed.”
Yeah, probably. His dad spent most of his time furious with his wife for dying and leaving her family company to William instead of him. Years figh
ting her last wishes had left his father bitter.
“He’s been working on this merger for years. He wants to meet with you. Hash everything out.”
Absolutely. Succession plan preparation should happen soon. First, William needed to do his own research before any meetings so he would go in prepared.
“I’m putting that meeting off as long as possible.” He rubbed against the pressure in his chest he experienced whenever his father’s name came up.
“You need to go visit him. Now.”
“Nope.” Now that things were going his way, he would do this on his own terms. In his own time.
Parker cursed. “Don’t be a jackass.”
“Seriously, when did you become his bitch?” William set his hands low on his hips.
Parker glanced away.
“Why the hell have you been working with my dad?”
“He’s my boss. I talk to him.” Parker sifted uneasily through the message slips on his desk. “If you’re not meeting with him, then what’s your plan?”
William glared at him. “We need to announce to management soon but, for now, I’m only a consumer reporter. That’s all anyone needs to know. And as far as my dad’s concerned, I’m still the screw-up who embarrassed the family on national television. I need a solid strategy. With the big Colorado Springs acquisition you’re so concerned about, I have to be prepared. I’m not walking blind into any meetings.”
Parker pressed his lips together. “Don’t screw up the merger, William. It’s got to happen.”
“What’s it to you, anyway? Your job here’s secure with or without it.” Unless. William’s whole body went wired. “He promised you a Colorado Springs job, didn’t he?”
Parker glanced down at the carpet. “Vice President of Operations.”
William’s last girlfriend always said he had major trust issues. Right here. This illustrated why he struggled having faith in anyone. If you couldn’t rely on your friends to have your back, who could you count on?
“When you kicked me out of your apartment, you weren’t worried about your job here. You were aiming for a promotion.”
“After the merger, your dad plans to move all the offices to the Springs. You haven’t been around. You have no idea what this company needs. The merger needs to happen so we can move everything there.”
Never. His mother set the offices in Confluence because she loved this town. “I’m keeping the offices in Confluence.”
The door burst open, revealing Parker’s flustered assistant.
“I’m sorry to interrupt. Mr. Covington.” She glanced at William. “The other Mr. Covington is here to see you.”
Looked like that meeting with his dad wouldn’t wait after all.
“Son.”
One word, and everyone paused. William couldn’t breathe. Air wouldn’t come. His father’s presence erased everything William had worked toward. He was a twenty-two-year-old brat again, ruining the family name.
The perplexed assistant scooted aside to let his father pass.
“Dad.” William clenched his fingers against his palms. He would not go back in time. He would not allow his father that control. He would not be that kid again.
“I suppose congratulations are in order.” Joe Covington had aged over their time apart. Oh, he still owned the room when he entered, but his hair was whiter and the lines on his face deeper. “It’s been a long time. We’ve got some work to do to get this transition moving. Best get on that.”
He turned in the direction of the conference room without any other words. He didn’t need them. People followed Joe Covington wherever he led.
“Best get on that.” Parker jerked his head to where William’s father had stood moments before.
“We’re not done.” William pointed a finger at Parker and headed the opposite direction of the conference room. He refused to come when called—especially by his father.
Chapter Five
William was on edge. A string of tense meetings with his father over the past two weeks had been punctuated with uncomfortable, over-the-top civility. Twice his father had broached the subject of William staying at the family house. Twice, William declined. Politely. Through gritted teeth.
Better to live in a rundown place he called his own than move back to the altar of broken dreams, otherwise known as the family home where his father and stepmother lived.
Parker had tried to contact him a few times. William had avoided the calls and sidestepped him at the station.
But his father’s endless persistence, and Parker’s two-faced friendship, weren’t the only reasons he couldn’t sleep.
The yowling outside had become unbearable. He yanked a thin bubblegum-colored blanket over his head. Two a.m. and a first-class pain-in-the-ass cat would not shut up. William groaned.
Even without the cat, a man could not sleep in a house drenched in the color palette of Pepto-Bismol.
He was a successful reporter. A goddamned heir to an empire. All of that sounded great, but his life was like a late night infomercial. Looked amazing on television, but once you got it, you realized it was total bull and the return shipping wasn’t worth the effort.
The bellowing outside grew louder, punctuated with several short meows and a long, high-pitched cry.
He rolled off the bed, stood, and stubbed his toe on the dresser. A string of oaths fell from his lips.
Barefoot, shirtless, and without any pride, he limped through his living room in only his boxers. Not like anyone was outside to see him or his damaged dignity. Clearly, he was the only one awake in the neighborhood. Aside from the cat.
He grabbed a pastel pink laundry basket from the sofa and stepped outside the patio door. His bare feet hit the chilled metal steps. He shivered. Clouds covered the moon, so the only light came from a street lamp at the end of the building. Not even the stars were out tonight.
Step one, catch the cat.
Step two, hope the cat stayed in the basket until morning.
Step three, no idea. He’d figure that one out after some sleep.
The yowling continued from around Lucy’s side of the patio. William stepped with care across the AstroTurf lawn, hopping away from jagged gravel to avoid the legion of pink flamingos he’d inherited with the place.
Yes, he’d been flocked.
His breath came in thin, foggy bursts.
He was a predator hunting a…Puddy Tat.
Quoting Looney Tunes to himself while tracking a cat around a compound of sketchy apartments? Yeah, he needed sleep.
He slipped along the length of Lucy’s unit. The feline in question bellowed and scratched at the metal siding below Lucy’s window.
A branch snapped under the pad of William’s foot. The cat stopped howling and stared him down. If he was quick, William could grab the thing. Or maybe he should try calling the beast—it might come.
He cleared his throat quietly, not quite believing he was doing this. “Here kitty, kitty,” he sang off-key. “Kitty, kitty, kitty. Here kitty.”
A violent hiss erupted from the cat’s mouth. William nearly laughed when the cat bared its fangs. Fang. The decrepit marmalade, long-haired cat was missing a tooth. Clumps of fur were gone, too, and the creature appeared as though it had been on the receiving end of a late-night bar brawl. Something an awful lot like sympathy stirred inside him.
“Here kitty, kitty…” he sang again.
Gravel crunched behind him.
He spun around.
Lucy wielded a baseball bat at him like a maniac. When she raised the bat higher, her nightgown crept up to her thighs.
When he should’ve been concerned about the possibility of a concussion, his body instead responded to that small bit of bare skin like a fifteen-year-old boy at a strip club.
“What are you doing?” he whispered.
“Seeing who is outside my window.” Her hair was tousled and, damn, did he want to run his fingers through the mess of it. She lowered the bat. “What are you doing?”
“You scared me.” Her lip trembled.
He reached his hand out to comfort her, but she stepped away.
She nodded toward the ball of fur. “What’s the deal with him?”
The cat stopped bellowing.
“No idea,” he said. “He’s going to the Humane Society as soon as I catch him.”
The cat stalked closer and hissed again. It turned to Lucy and…smiled.
She set the bat down and kneeled in the fake grass, wriggling her fingers toward the grungy cat. “Aw, how sweet is he?”
The cat strutted to her opened fingers, tail held high, and sniffed. She massaged its chin and turned the tags on the collar over to read them.
She glanced at William. “Her name is Mitzy. It lists your apartment number.”
The dead former-occupant-lady had a feline?
He hurried to grab the basket and snapped it down over the cat. Lucy barely moved her hand away in time. It was dark, but he was close enough to Lucy to catch her reaction. If gemstones caught fire, they would look exactly like her green eyes in that moment.
“You. Did. Not. Just. Do. That.”
“I caught the cat.” He pointed to the aforementioned feline.
She threw the basket aside to move the beast onto her lap. Her nightgown rose higher on her thigh as she comforted the thing.
William stifled a groan. She killed him without even touching him. The nightgown wasn’t even that short or sexy. Except on her, it was beyond hot. Cotton, not silk, with a picture of a panda bear eating a cupcake with the cherry right at her… No, he was not going to examine the cherry and the position it held right over her breast.
“Hey there.” She rubbed her hand over the tufts of fur. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
A deep purr vibrated through the dark night, and Lucy beamed. “She likes me.”
“Don’t get attached. She’s going to the shelter,” William grumbled.
Lucy ignored him. “I like you, too, Mitzy.”