by Claire Adams
All my tension melted away, leaving me in a muddled state of shock. "Head up?"
"Yes!" Clarity laughed. "I think we proved that neither of us is really cut out for investigative journalism, but you have an eye for a story, and you can advise students to do the real work of it. That's why they want you to be the editor-in-chief."
Chapter Twenty
Clarity
"Are you listening?" I asked Ford. "You have that funny look on your face again. Is it really that bad?"
"What? No. I'm just having trouble concentrating on your writing," he said.
"I know, it's the characters, isn't it? Everyone knows what they want except for them. I'm too far in their heads. The whole plot is just getting gummed up." I tossed the pages down on the coffee table and slumped back.
Ford sat up and retrieved the short story. "You're overreacting. Besides, I wasn't ignoring you—I was just enjoying my new couch."
I rolled my eyes. "Yes, you do keep pointing out how comfortable it is. What if I liked the old one?"
"Sentimental reasons?" Ford asked.
"Yes, that saggy sofa was one of a kind because it was the location of our first time. I just don't think I can date you without it," I quipped.
"And here I thought things were going well," Ford sighed. "Maybe you'll like the new couch more if you finish nit-picking your perfect story here."
I took the pages he handed me and started to read again. Within a few lines, Ford's lips pressed to my neck, and I knew he wasn't listening. I wasn't even listening as the soft yet fiery caress of his lips trailed down to my shoulder.
The pages dropped out of my hand as I turned and met his mouth with my own. Ford's stormy-blue eyes flickered open then burned a deep midnight blue that meant the wave was coming.
We'd been dating for over a year, and spring was just around the corner, but I couldn't help miss the heavy snowfalls that kept us holed up in Ford's apartment most of the winter. Despite all the excitement of my coming graduation, all my mind could focus on was Ford's breath as his lips leisurely teased me.
"I should have finished the story this morning," I murmured against his heated kisses.
"I seem to recall we both got a little distracted," Ford said.
Our lips plunged together at the mentioned memory. Waking up curled against his broad chest made it impossible to get out of bed most mornings. That particular morning, I discovered a ticklish spot just below his waistline, and we had spent a long, delicious time exploring to see if he had any more.
My fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt, but Ford caught my hand. "Oh, no you don't. You made me squirm enough this morning."
"I can't get enough of you," I confessed.
It was a long time before the clock chimed and jolted us both out of our languid passion. "Oh, god, do I have to go to the office?" Ford groaned.
"If I have to go to class, then you have to go to work," I said. "Besides, that office is what got you your splendid new couch."
"Speaking of the couch," Ford hooked an arm around my waist and swung me back against him. "We really should think about breaking it in. I bet it would be more comfortable after that."
I blushed and shook my head. No matter how many times Ford and I made love, he still managed to make me feel shy and nervous with fluttering excitement. "I can't be late for class. You know who my professor is, right?"
Ford let go and flopped back against the couch cushions. "Yeah, who knew that Jackson would be such a rigorous professor? I mean, I certainly had no idea or I wouldn't have ever suggested you take on a creative writing concentration."
I stood up. "I have to make this deadline, or I don't graduate. Now, help me get the characters right."
"No. No way," Ford shook his head. "I'm impressed with how you can handle fiction, but it just isn't for me."
"You figured out the motive behind the science lab thefts. Why can't you help me figure out my hero's motivation?" I asked.
"Probably because I can't even figure out my own," Ford chuckled. "I want you to stay, but I want you to graduate. See? It doesn't make any sense. The world is much better off if I stick to non-fiction."
"See?" I cried. "I should be early to class, not late, because I need Professor Rumsfeld to help me!"
"You really call Jackson that?" Ford asked.
"Yes. Why?"
Ford sat up and caught my hand. "Because I remember you slipping up and calling me by my first name all the time. You don't call him Jackson by accident?"
"He's my professor," I said.
"I was your professor."
I looked down into Ford's midnight eyes and melted. "You were always different, and you knew it. I should have known it the first moment we met, but there were all sorts of rules in the way."
"Not like now," Ford said. He tugged my hand.
I pulled back. "There are still rules, like not missing class just before graduation."
"Fine, just add dedicated to the list," Ford fell back in defeat.
"What list?" I shouldn't have turned around, but he caught my curiosity.
"The list of things I love about you." He smiled up at me. "You're smart, outspoken, talented, and dedicated. What on earth are you doing with me?"
"Flattery will get you nowhere," I said.
He patted the couch cushion next to him. "There's nowhere I'd rather be than right here."
I gave in to the gravitational pull of him. The look of delighted shock when I slipped over his lap was worth being late to class. Ford caught me in a searing kiss, and we rolled onto the couch. It still surprised me how every time his hands swept across my body, I felt the current flow between us, just like the first time.
Except this time was different. Ford slowed then leaned back and looked deep into my eyes. There was nothing between us now, no past worries or current scandals, no rules, and no hesitations.
"I love you, Clarity," he said.
And I returned the sentiment with every fiber of my body and soul.
We'd made hot, passionate love, but I never said the words. Standing in line at the coffee shop later that morning, it was all I could think about.
Why didn't I tell Ford that I loved him?
Even though I held my short story covered with Professor Rumsfeld's comments, all I could do was think about Ford. He loved me, and I heard him say the words over and over again in my head. Why on earth had I not said them back?
I will tonight. As soon as I see him, I promised myself.
The coffee shop was packed, and the caffeinated buzz was the perfect distraction. As the line moved slowly, I started to consider Professor Rumsfeld's questions and comments. Ford was horrified at how much red ink Jackson used on my stories, but I loved it. It was hard to explain to Ford the mixture of excitement and dread I felt. I loved the challenge, but was plagued by doubts.
"I don't get it," Ford had said earlier, "your writing is just about perfect to me."
Ford was biased, and now I knew exactly why. He loved me.
"Standing in line, smiling to yourself. And I thought I was the one with the good news," Lexi said.
I grabbed my friend in a tight hug then shrieked when I saw Jasmine was with her too. "I feel like I haven't seen either of you in forever," I said.
"Not a surprise since you don't spend much time on campus anymore," Jasmine said. "Must be nice to have a boyfriend with an apartment and a car."
"Your new boy toy has a motorcycle and a house on the shore. You can't complain," Lexi told Jasmine.
"Tell me all about him. I want to know all about it. I'm so glad I ran into you!" I almost launched directly into my story about flubbing up the first 'I love you' with Ford, but Jasmine always had a new, exciting boyfriend to tell us about.
She talked about his plans to ship the motorcycle to Italy and drive from the top of the boot down to the heel. "Of course, we'll have to wait until we get back from Las Vegas to leave."
"Las Vegas first? Don't you mean graduation?" I laughed.
Lexi slapped her arm. "Thanks a lot for giving away my good news before I got a chance to share it!"
I took a step back and clutched my short story to my chest. "You're getting married? Carl proposed?"
Jasmine giggled. "The man hardly talks, but he made a whole big speech and convinced her."
"Alright, enough," Lexi said. "It's my turn to brag about my proposal and my wedding."
Jasmine tossed her hair. "It's not my fault if I tell it better."
"Well, can you do this?" Lexi asked. She flashed a bright, diamond engagement ring before our eyes.
"Me first, I haven't seen it yet!" Jasmine shrieked.
I smiled at Lexi over our friend's drooling face. "Congratulations, Lexi. I am so happy for you. So, why are you heading to Vegas?"
"We," Lexi said. "We are heading to Las Vegas because there is no way I'm getting married without both of you next to me."
"And Ford," Jasmine said. "Ford has to come too."
Lexi rolled her eyes. "That's her way of asking how things are going for you two?"
The barista called me up, and I had a few seconds to order my coffee and pull myself together. Somehow the subject of marriage seemed a lot more exciting now that I was dating someone serious. Before, it was always easy to wave off marriage as something that other people did. I didn't think I would have to worry about it until I was established in my career and had a healthy bank account.
Not that I'd done very good at sticking to my life plan in the last two years. I still felt so young and so unsure about everything. Was that why I hadn't told Ford I loved him?
"I know we're young, and it's crazy," Lexi said as she followed me to a table by the window.
"I don't think age has anything to do with it," I said. "You and Carl are really in love."
Lexi set her cup down on the table and looked at me. "Why do I get the feeling you have a question for me that's not about bridesmaid dresses or bachelorette party hats?"
"How do you know when you're really in love?" I asked.
Jasmine sat down. "That's easy," she said.
Both Lexi and I snorted with laughter.
"I know," Jasmine said, "I don't seem like the 'love' type, but I'm not stupid. Love is what you feel when there isn't anything else. No doubt, no shyness, no restlessness. Why do you think I haven't settled down yet? I haven't felt like the whole world goes away when I'm with someone."
"I'm writing that down," Lexi said. "You're saying that at my wedding."
"But I was planning on doing all sorts of jokes about your short skirts," Jasmine said.
Lexi shoved our friend, and the two broke into a fit of giggles. It felt good to laugh and joke, but I was too stunned by what Jasmine had said.
It was true. I loved Ford.
"Sorry, ladies, but I have to go," I said. I stood up and sloshed our coffees.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Clarity. Am I talking about the wedding too much? I promise we can talk all about your father's new art retreat." Lexi reached to catch my hand.
Jasmine swatted Lexi's hand away. "Can't you see the girl's had a major revelation? Bet she's going to see that Mr. Bauer down at The Mirror. I bet she's going to tell him she loves him."
I took a deep breath and tried to look dignified. "Maybe. First, I better get him a coffee."
Thomas opened The Mirror office doors for me when I arrived. The short story was tucked under my arm, and two coffees balanced precariously in my hand as I reached for the door handle. I didn't want his help, but it was obvious I needed it.
"Thanks, Thomas. Good to see you. I heard you got a job working down here," I said.
"I'm surprised we haven't bumped into each other before," Thomas said.
I felt the slide of unease and wondered if he had gotten the job just to be near me again. Since leaving journalism, I hadn't had to deflect Thomas' uncomfortable adoration every day. Ford had pointed it out to me how my classmate pined for me. He had tried to use it to build up my confidence, but it just made me feel bad. I didn't love Thomas the way he loved me.
Then I saw Ford, and I realized I was right not to lead Thomas on. When it was the real thing, real love, there was no room for doubt.
Ford was on the phone in his fishbowl office. Despite the office using the latest technology, his desk was covered in mounds of paper. Ford waved a notepad around as he discussed something quite loudly with the person on the phone.
"He's a good boss," Thomas said. "Much more demanding and on the ball than when he was a professor. But I guess I don't have to tell you he's a different man nowadays."
"Different? How?" I asked.
Thomas gave a sad smile. "Isn't it obvious? He's in love. Once he left campus, and you two were able to be together, he turned into a completely different person. He's driven, he's ambitious, and I bet he's doing it all for you."
I looked at my lovelorn classmate and caught a glimpse of a young woman staring at us. She wore the same tirelessly hopeful expression that Thomas used to turn on me. "Who's that?" I asked.
"Mindy," Thomas said. His whole face brightened. "I've been thinking about asking her out."
"Then don't hesitate," I said. "There's no room for doubt when it's love."
Thomas grinned and spun back through the maze of desks to join Mindy by the copier. Within seconds, they were both laughing about something, and the look on their faces buoyed my courage.
I turned back and caught Ford watching me through the glass walls of his office. His words, his hands, the whole passionate morning crashed over me, and for a moment, I couldn't move. Then he gestured for me to join him, and my feet moved so fast I felt like I was flying.
"Wow, you're in a rush," Ford said as I burst in his office door and skidded to a stop. "What's the good news?"
I couldn't get the words to form or my mouth to work. Instead, I asked, "Is everything alright? That looked like a pretty heated phone exchange."
Ford chuckled and handed me a slip of paper. On it was nothing but an astronomical sum. "Barton is trying to buy The Mirror again."
"That's awful. Why are you smiling?" I asked.
Ford shrugged and plucked the coffee cups from my hands. "I take it as a compliment. It's weird, but ever since I confronted him on the golf course, I feel like he respects me. These offers are a sign of respect, like he's proud of me."
"Or he's trying to con you like Tailor did my father," I said.
"Don't worry, I'm a cautious guy," Ford said.
"Are you? Because I've been feeling lately like I'm too cautious, and you're the one that's willing to go out on a limb." My throat dried up and so did my words.
Ford arched a dark eyebrow at me. I had his full attention now. "What are you talking about?" he asked.
An intern saved me by standing at the glass door and waving a stack of proofs. "Sorry to interrupt, Ford, but these need approval before we can let everything go live."
"Oh, god, that's right. You're under deadline. I'm not the only one that's under deadline. Sorry!" I stepped out of the way.
Ford caught me under the chin as he passed out the door. "I'll be right back. Then you have to tell me what's on your mind."
I watched him march up and down the rows of desks. Ford knew everyone by name, and he insisted they call him by his first name. The mix of familiarity and authority he gave off set his whole staff at ease. They worked hard for him. They respected him. They loved him.
Suddenly the words welled up, and I could barely contain myself. I felt like shouting it out his office door. The thought of interrupting the newspaper with a headline of my own was tempting but terrifying.
Ford saw me shifting from foot to foot in his office door. He initialed the stack of proofs without taking his eyes off me and then dropped the papers on the intern's desk. He marched clear across the floor and swept back into his office.
This time I was ready
for the tsunami. "I love you," I said.
He stopped in the doorway and held on to the frame for support. Then Ford looked around as if he'd been dazed with something heavy. When his eyes focused back on me, I said it again.
"I love you, Ford."
This time, he was at a loss for words, but there was no doubt how he took the news. Ford strode across the office and swept me up in his arms. We spun three times before he pulled me to him, and in front of the entire Mirror staff, we kissed as if the world had faded away.
The raucous cheer that met our ears was enough of a reminder.
"The walls are glass, aren't they?" Ford asked. His face was still a mix of wonder and relief. "Everyone saw everything."
"Isn't it great?" I asked. "We don't have to worry about who sees us or not."
Ford brushed his lips against mine again. "Because we're just two people in love."
"Yes," I laughed. Then I unhooked my arms from around his neck. "But you are also the person under deadline and, trust me, I know how that feels."
Ford spun away with a hundred last-minute things to do, but he stopped at the door and circled back to me. "You came all the way to my office just to tell me you love me?"
"Yes. I didn't say it this morning, and I didn't know why."
He stopped, and his face sobered. "Why didn't you?"
I reached up and brushed a hand over his cheek. The caress drew the scent of his aftershave to my senses, and I was dizzy with happiness. "I've never been in love before," I confessed.
Ford laughed and scooped me back into his arms. "Then I've never been in love before either because I've never felt like this before."
"Like what?" I asked with a challenge in my eyes.
This time, it didn't matter that the walls were glass. When our lips met it felt like time stood still. Outside, the office worked at a frantic pace, but for just a moment longer, there was only Ford and I in the world.
I thought of Lexi and her engagement ring, Jasmine and her new romance, and my father finally with his dream artist. The world slowly came back, but I welcomed each part of it. The people around us had seen it from the very beginning, and Ford and I had just caught up. It felt good to finally know what everyone had realized long before us.