I watched her squirm in the chair. She hated apologizing. I sipped my wine to hide the amused smile growing on my lips. Nothing fooled her though. She narrowed her ice blue eyes.
“You’re enjoying this too much,” she grumbled.
“Maybe.”
“Listen, I will support this relationship one hundred percent. But,” she leaned forward, “I swear, if he pulls another stunt like he did in England I will go after his ginger ass like a princess on fire.”
“Your enthusiasm for that is scary.”
“You’re my unofficial-little-sister-official-best-friend. He hurts you, he hurts me by default.” A chagrined look crossed her face. “Besides, he did fly four thousand miles to patch things up with you. The romantic in me is jealous and swooning at the same time.”
“I can probably ruin this relationship without his help,” I mumbled.
“That sounded ominous. Is something going on?’
“Oh, you know,” I sighed. “Just my awesome self-doubt.”
“Stop it. He loves you. You love him. Enough said.”
“Anyway,” I chuckled, “my parents are coming to visit this weekend. Know anybody who can get them tickets to a show or the ballet or something so I don’t have to be a one-woman entertainment stop?”
“Ah, I love your parents,” she exclaimed. “Your mother kills me. And your dad is a riot. Nobody at the station has tickets to anything?”
“Yeah but I was away so I missed out.”
“There’s a Predators game on Saturday if they’re into arena football.”
“My dad will love it.”
“I’ll ask Justin to give me his suite tickets. That way we can go with them.” She flashed a mischievous smile. Justin owned the salon where she worked and was currently dating the Predators’ public relations manager.
The server arrived to take our orders before I had a chance to give Stephanie a snarky reply. We spent the next couple hours brainstorming ideas for her party and being silly. We probably drank more wine than was necessary. It dawned on us that she’d be living in Glasgow for the next milestone in her life: the illustrious thirtieth birthday. Always one to find an excuse to celebrate, Stephanie declared she’d have a massive party at one of the nightclubs downtown. Of course, I’d have to fly out there to join the celebration. Seeing her so excited made me so happy.
“Ugh. My bladder is getting old,” she complained. “I’ll be right back.”
I laughed watching her dart off to the ladies’ room. She hadn’t been gone five seconds when I felt a presence behind me.
“Lia.”
The voice saying my name sent a small shiver down my spine. Steeling myself, I turned. Standing in his tan dress pants and crisp white button down shirt, Nathan looked like the poster child for a L.L. Bean catalogue. He moved closer and held my arm. I stiffened, ready to make a scene.
“May I sit?”
“No.”
Ignoring me, he sat in Stephanie’s seat. “Have a nice weekend?” His tone dripped with acid.
“Spectacular.”
Nathan leaned back in the chair with an air of over-confidence. “Nice ring. You didn’t tell him about the photos, did you?”
Anger squeezed my chest in an unrelenting grip. “No.”
“I figured you wouldn’t. Knowing you the way I do, all the facts have to be tied up in a neat little package before you attack. You should have been a prosecutor.”
I wanted to burn the smile off his face with a blowtorch. “What do you want?”
“Look, I know this situation hasn’t been pleasant for you. I’m afraid it’ll only get worse.”
“How do you know that?”
“There’s something that family doesn’t want the general public to know. His uncle went to great lengths to keep it hidden. From what I’ve learned it has something to do with your boyfriend and an incident from his early twenties. I don’t like where this is going, Lia. He’s not good for you.”
The room spun violently. More secrets? An incident? I clasped my hands together and stared at Nathan. I needed to play this smart.
“Stop being so dramatic. It’s not like you didn’t do stupid shit in your early twenties.”
“Right. But my stupid shit isn’t sealed in a file. Something big happened. I want to know what and I want you to see the light about him.”
Rage simmered deep within me, giving me a strange quiet calm. My focus sharpened along with my instincts. This was a game for Nathan, a battle of wills. I wouldn’t - couldn’t - let him win.
“So much for you wanting to gain my trust, then.”
He bristled at my tone, displaying an expression I’d seen a million times before - disgust. “Wake up, Lia. Whatever my faults were in our relationship at least I never hid anything from you.”
“Yeah. You were a real keeper.”
“What is it about him that’s so goddam special? He’s a womanizer sitting on a mountain of cash. You’re not a gold digger so his bank account means nothing to you. It certainly can’t be his sparkling personality.”
I smiled slyly, holding his piercing stare. Frustrated, Nathan rested his forearms on the table. I folded my hands in front of me. There was a time when his look would frighten me or make me back down. The realization that I’d been so blinded by what I thought was love for him burned brightly. I’d never loved him. I was only trying to win his approval. In the process, I’d lost part of who I was deep down.
“Jealousy has always been an ugly color on you,” I said with a smug smile.
Nathan grabbed my hand, squeezing tightly. Determination flashed through his eyes like a building storm. “I don’t want things to be like this between us. I’m not your enemy.”
We stared at one another, which made me slightly uncomfortable. Regardless of his envious outburst, nothing but sincerity bled from him.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I said cautiously. “We don’t have the best history.”
“That’s not true. Remember the first time we went away together?”
The memory flooded me with unexpected warmth. A genuine, glowing smile bloomed across Nathan’s lips. He gently squeezed my hand.
“You do remember. We went to Sanibel Island for Memorial Day weekend. I took you sailing and paragliding and snorkeling. I think it was the second day we were out on the Gulf, when you saw a dolphin. I’ll never forget the look on your face as long as I live. You were so excited and awed by it. I knew at that moment, you were the one.”
The unsullied joy of that weekend away filled every fiber of my being. The recollection was so vivid I could almost smell the salty air. As much as I hated to admit it to myself, he was right. Not all of our history together sucked. Moments like that weekend in Sanibel were living proof.
“Try to focus on those moments, Lia. I only have your best interest at heart.”
My whole body vibrated, not knowing how to react to anything. I shouldn’t have had all that damn wine. I broke out into a cold sweat.
“Let me handle this thing with Rachel,” he continued. “I’ll get her off your back and convince her to focus her interests on that baseball player who knocked up some college freshman. That’s more her speed anyway.”
“But if she’s getting paid to—”
“I can ruin her reputation in a heartbeat. Nobody respects or trusts a so-called journalist who takes money under the table to print gossip. She’s looking for the big score to get a flashy by-line. You don’t have any dirty little secrets. I’m pretty sure she’s figured that out by now.”
“Are you positive the money is coming from his uncle?” My voice shook.
Nathan almost looked sympathetic. “It’s coming from a trust account that he deposits money into every month.”
“How did you find out about this?”
“That’s not important.”
I clenched my jaw. What a dumb question. This guy was a master at stalking. Although, and my God how I hated to admit it, his skills would be beneficial
in getting to the bottom of why Alastair’s family wanted to dig up information on me.
“Okay,” I said quietly.
“Okay what?”
Every piece of my soul fought against what I was about to say. Nathan gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. I hope I’m doing the right thing.
“Do what you have to do,” I nearly choked on the words. “But promise me you’ll stay away from Alastair and you won’t confront him.”
He scowled. “If I find out something that—”
“Nathan. Promise me or I walk away forever.”
“Fine,” he relented, looking at me softly. “Thank you for trusting me.”
“Don’t make me regret this.” I snapped my hand away.
“Get the hell away from her.”
Stephanie’s outburst caused several people to turn in our direction.
“Thanks for the talk, Sparkle,” he said, standing up. Fixing a cold stare on Stephanie, he smirked. “Nice to see you, Steph.”
She flipped him off as he walked to the exit. “What an asshole. Why did you let him sit down?”
“I didn’t let him do anything. He just sat.” I rubbed my temples, wishing I had stayed in Glasgow.
* * *
Torn Between a Senator’s Son and a Billionaire Media Mogul
By: Rachel Jameson
Do we smell reconciliation? WMZB’s Lia Meyers has been spotted out on the town not once, but twice with former flame Nathan Greyson. The attractive pair dined together last week at a cozy table for two in one of Orlando’s hottest restaurants. Last night, they were canoodling downtown in a more casual setting. And yes, she is sporting an expensive ring close to that finger. The news producer has turned heads recently with her highly publicized relationship with British media mogul Alastair Holden. The sexy English redhead spent two weeks in the city wooing his American lady, alongside working as CEO at Holden World Media, but has since returned to the United Kingdom. Were his efforts enough to keep her from rekindling a romance with Orlando’s most eligible bachelor? The senator’s son has been nursing a broken heart since his ladylove broke things off earlier this year. Only time will tell. Stay tuned.
The accompanying photos weren’t much better. One picture showed Alastair and I walking hand in hand through Cranes Roost Park. The others made me physically ill. A seemingly intimate moment between Nathan and me from last night showed our hands clasped together as we stared at one another. A similar one from last week’s dinner turned my stomach. At first blush, it looked like a tender moment. What the average gossip-loving person didn’t know wasn’t important. Pictures spoke a thousand words and that one proclaimed reconciliation.
Glaring at Rachel Jameson’s name in the byline, I resisted the urge to call her. The whole article made it sound like I was playing both guys, as if I couldn’t decide who I wanted more. It was laughable but again, the average person who lived for gossip didn’t care about the validity.
“Another appearance in the gossip column? You’re becoming notorious.”
I shot Tyler Garrett a nasty look. The assignment editor perched himself on the edge of my desk, grinning with glee.
“How have you managed to hold back on the comments for so long?”
“C’mon, Lia. Lighten up. I’m only teasing.”
“I know, I know. Sorry. It’s just so annoying.”
“Let’s face it. Orlando is boring and this is the most exciting thing going on aside from the theme parks and shuttle launches. You should feel honored.”
In spite of my annoyance at the article, I laughed at his nonchalant attitude. “I don’t know about that but thanks.”
“Ignore it. This will do more to bolster Greyson’s ego than anything. Your guy probably won’t even see it.”
My stomach dropped. Oh shit. He’s going to go ballistic. I fought off nausea while attempting to keep a normal expression in front of my co-worker.
“Are you coming to the event at Lane’s tonight?” Tyler asked, standing up. “I know Wes and Katie are going. Sounds like it’ll be a good one.”
One of the players from the city’s basketball team was holding his annual charity bowling event. A good majority of people from the other television stations would be there along with fans who purchased tickets, local sports celebrities and corporate guests from various companies sponsoring the event. I wanted to go. I should go. I was just so emotionally drained from last night. Sleep was elusive and my brain didn’t stop creating horrible scenarios about what I’d agreed to.
“Probably not,” I answered. “I want as many nights to myself as I can have before my parents get here Friday.”
“Bring them by the station. We’ll dazzle them with our hurry-up-and-wait television schtick.”
I laughed. My mother would love nothing more than to be paraded through the newsroom. She thought my job was so glamorous.
“Can you handle three Meyers at once?”
“I put up with that one all day.” He gestured toward Gus at the assignment desk. “Your family will be a breeze.”
“Hey, Lia.” Cynthia Steele, one half of our evening anchor team, walked towards my desk with purpose. Tyler ducked out just before she arrived. Already dressed in her royal blue pantsuit for the broadcast, she looked network TV ready.
“I have a question about this health story on vitamins. The script doesn’t make any sense.”
She pointed to the rundown. I read it, paying close attention to the wording.
“What’s confusing you?”
“It says women who take vitamins every day have a higher risk of dying early. But then it says there’s no conclusive result. Which is it? Am I going to die young because I take vitamin B or not?”
“I’ll polish up the wording. It should say the study only showed an association, not cause and effect. It’s also missing the part about researchers not asking the women about underlying health issues.”
“Who wrote it?” She narrowed her eyes and fingered a piece of immoveable auburn hair.
“Um, one of the new writers. I’ll talk to him and make sure he knows to add as much info as possible.” I grinned, amused by Cynthia’s theatrics over the smallest details.
“You’re the best, Lia. Thank you.” Her strong, melodic voice echoed through the newsroom as she strutted back to her desk. I became so lost in my work that I didn’t even notice the hours flying by. An unsettled feeling paraded through my stomach when I also realized I hadn’t heard from Alastair yet today. He must have seen the article by now.
Sheer panic seized me as I opened my inbox and saw nothing from him. I called his cell phone. It went directly to voice mail. Shaking, I typed an email.
To: Alastair Holden
From: Amelia Meyers
Subject: Missing you…
I can’t reach you, chief. Please call me when you can.
Lia xoxo
I carried on with the rest of my evening and all of Thursday fully expecting a response. One never came.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Peace, quiet and a lovely bowl of spaghetti and broccoli in a light cream sauce with sun-dried tomatoes greeted me when I arrived home Friday night. I flopped on the couch and let the activity of the week slide off me bit by bit. My parents were settled into their hotel, relaxing before their visit kicked into high gear this weekend. Stephanie was at some swanky restaurant grand opening with the guy from Maine. She’d asked me to join them but I turned down her invitation politely, preferring to curl up on the couch.
I was still in my work clothes. The lure of food was too strong for me to waste time changing first. That was certainly next on my agenda for this lazy evening.
The doorbell scared the ever-living shit out of me. I dropped my fork, splattering spaghetti and cream sauce all over my skirt. Cursing under my breath I got up to open the door. I blinked, not believing what I saw. Standing in front of me looking casual and hot in his jeans and green t-shirt was Alastair holding a small paper
bag. Judging by the amount of stubble on his face, I’d guess he hadn’t shaved all week. And boy did he look pissed. Shit. He’d seen the article.
“Did I come at a bad time?” He flicked his eyes to my soiled clothes.
“Considering you’ve shown up unannounced and you live across the Atlantic, I’d say yes.”
“May I come in?”
“You know you don’t have to ask. Why are you here?”
“I can’t pop in to see my girlfriend?” he smiled, but the amusement didn’t touch his eyes.
My heart started pounding. His arm brushed against me as he walked through the door, simultaneously giving me a rush and making me nervous. This was going to be interesting.
“Are you home alone?” He casually glanced around the living room before placing the bag on the kitchen counter. Turning to look at me, he folded his arms and stood as still as a statue.
“Of course. I was just having something to eat.”
“I can see that,” he said dryly, casting a frigid glance at my pasta stained skirt. I generally kept the temperature in my apartment comfortably cool because it was always so hot out. At this moment, it was downright arctic in here.
“Is the bearded look a new thing you’re trying?”
Expressionless and stoic, he leaned against the counter. No emotion, not even anger, reflected in his eyes. He was a blank canvas and it scared the hell out of me.
“Don’t be coy.”
“What are—”
“What the fuck, Lia,” he interrupted, clamping his arms around his torso.
I stared at him, unable to form a sentence.
Scowling in frustration, he raked both hands through his hair. A few cracks appeared in his impenetrable shield. “Stop doing this,” he growled. “Or do you enjoy sneaking around behind my back with that fucking tosser?”
Each bitter word stabbed my skin with its sharp edges. Moving with calculated strides, he stood in front of me, dominating my line of sight. I was enveloped in his suffocating aura, caught between my desire to protect him from what I knew and collapse in his arms, asking for forgiveness.
“Why are you seeing him?”
“I’m not.”
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