About That Kiss

by Jayne Addison

  Suddenly the kitchen was flooded with light. A surprised Nick was confronted with a bleary-eyed Joy, dressed in colorful flannel pajamas.

  “What are you doing?” Joy asked as soon as she got over being startled at finding a very bare-chested man in her kitchen.

  “I was thirsty.” Nick held out his glass of soda. “What brought you downstairs?”

  “Thirsty…very thirsty.” She wasn’t making any move to do anything about it. The muscles of his chest and forearms had her mesmerized.

  “Must have been the pizza.” Nick grinned.

  “Uh-huh.” Uh-huh, she thought…uh-huh? Is that all you can think to say? Uh-huh! You’re a writer! You’re supposed to be good with words.

  “How about some cola?” Nick asked.

  “Okay,” Joy answered.

  Nick put his glass on the counter and poured her drink. He held out the glass, and Joy felt as if she were walking in a dream as she came up to him. The coldness of the glass in her hand came as something of a shock. She wasn’t conscious of having even accepted it.

  “Love your pajamas.” He gave her a full-wattage grin as she held the glass to her lips.

  Joy gulped and sputtered. She looked down at herself after wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She would hardly have picked to wear what she was wearing if she was conjuring this up as a dream.

  “They were a present.” Joy ran the tip of her tongue across her lips.

  Nick dragged his eyes off her mouth and studied the array of small iridescent red hearts against the background of cream-colored flannel. “Did some guy give them to you?”

  He knew she wasn’t seriously involved with anyone. He knew because he’d asked Kevin. Indirectly, of course.

  Joy shook her head. “A friend from work ga?? them to me for my birthday.”

  He liked that answer. “And when was your birthday?”

  “February fourteenth, Valentine’s Day.”

  “Cupid’s baby, huh?” Nick grinned.

  Joy nodded. Looking at his bare chest was causing her heart to flutter.

  His eyes moved over her face. “Your chin looks a little sticky.”

  “Cola,” Joy said.

  Nick took hold of the hand she started to raise and kept it down at her side. He brought his free hand up and touched the damp spot on her chin.

  Joy’s lips parted. She was breathing haltingly through her mouth as his hand lifted her chin higher.

  And then the kitchen door swung open.

  “What are the two of you doing?” Diana asked, clothed in one of her seductive nightgowns. The thin, pink silk just missed being see-through.

  “Drinking,” Nick muttered, bringing his hand back down.

  “We were both thirsty,” Joy added. “And I had cola on my chin.”

  Diana proceeded to the refrigerator for the platter of cold chicken. “It isn’t any wonder that you’d be thirsty. How the two of you can eat the food you eat is beyond me. Don’t either of you have any concern for your bodies?”

  Nick groaned to himself. He had a very definite interest in one of the bodies in the room. It wasn’t his. Nor was it Diana’s.

  “Well,” Joy said awkwardly. “I guess I’ve had enough. See you both in the morning.”

  “I’ve had enough, too,” Nick said. “I’ll walk up with you.”

  She looked over at him just once, as they walked toward the stairs. Had he been about to kiss her when Diana had walked in on them? No, Joy answered herself. So what had he been doing?

  “Are you tired?” Nick asked as they reached Joy’s bedroom door.

  “Uh-huh,” Joy answered, then moaned under her breath. “Aren’t you?”

  “Not really. But I guess since you’re tired I won’t try to persuade you to stay up with me a little longer.”

  Joy took a deep breath. Persuade! She was like putty in his hands.

  “Well, see you tomorrow,” Nick said with a smile.

  “Tomorrow is a workday for me.” Joy made herself open her bedroom door. “I leave early.”

  “I’m a pretty early riser myself.”

  “Even without much sleep?”

  “Even without much sleep.”

  “Good night,” she said.

  “Good night,” he answered.

  Joy took a resolute step into her bedroom. Not looking back, she closed the door.

  Nick stood in the hallway a second longer, wondering again what position she slept in.

  Her mother was flipping pancakes as Joy came into the kitchen the next morning. After noting that no one else was in the room, Joy marched straight for the coffee that was already brewed.

  Emily slipped a pancake onto a plate. “How many will you have? Two or three?”

  “I don’t have time for more than a swallow of coffee,” Joy said to her mother. “I’ve overslept as it is.” She hadn’t fallen asleep until the wee hours of the morning. “Put them in the oven for Diana and Nick.”

  “If Diana eats half a pancake that will be a lot, and Nick has already eaten and left.”

  Joy put down the cup of coffee that she hadn’t yet taken a swallow from. “Nick ate and left already? Where did he go?”

  “He didn’t say, dear.” Emily looked at her youngest child thoughtfully. “I must say he didn’t appear any less tired than you do this morning.”

  “I guess we were both attacked by pepperoni pizza.” Joy gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, then hurried off.

  * * *

  The newsroom of the Greenport News was buzzing when Joy arrived. It was never a quiet place to begin with, but this morning there was an unusually high-pitched quality to the chatter.

  Joy hung up her green reefer coat and glanced around. Even Arthur Dailey was in animated conversation with Bill Kellman. That was unusual. The two pressmen, both gray-haired, though Arthur had more on his pate than Bill, hardly ever spoke to each other. There was something about one having slighted the other sometime back. Way back. Joy suspected that neither man recalled the exact slight, nor which one of them had delivered it, or even exactly when it had happened.

  “What’s going on?” Joy asked, catching the ear of Pamela Cousins, a breezy forty-year-old blonde with an ample shape and a Ms. Congeniality personality. She manned the phone for the classifieds. There wasn’t anyone who didn’t like Pamela. Nor was there anyone who Pamela didn’t like back.

  “You know. The big news,” Pamela said, turning from Cal Peterson who reported weekly on the activities of the Greenport wharf.

  “What big news?” Joy asked.

  “Oh,” Pamela said. “I thought that was the reason you dressed up today. You know…to make an impression on him.“

  “‘Him’?” The only him she’d wanted to make an impression on in her short, slim, gray wool skirt; clingy, white, ribbed-jersey turtleneck; high-heeled black pumps; and black panty hose had left before she’d come down to the kitchen. “What ‘him’?”

  “Our new boss. The man Earl sold the paper to.”

  “Earl sold the paper?” Joy was amazed.

  “The new owner is in his office right now. Earl said he’ll be introducing us all once you’d arrived. They’ve been waiting for you.”

  “I’ll go tell Earl you’re here,” Cal said, breaking away.

  “Have you seen the new owner?” Joy inquired of Pamela.

  Pamela expressed her response to Joy’s question with a big smile before she said, “God, I wish I was ten years younger and not married. The man is a S-T-U-D.”

  Earl Lansing came out of his office and into the main section of the news area with Cal Peterson and the man Pamela had just labeled a stud. Joy’s mouth fell open. The stud at Earl Lansing’s side was Nick Tremain.

  Earl Lansing’s eyes singled out Joy. “I assume you know by now?”

  Joy got her mouth closed in time to nod her head. Her eyes flashed to Nick. He gave her a fast wink, then a very slow perusal. When his eyes did cruise back up to hers, there was sexy masculine approval in his gaze.


  Joy felt her face get warm.

  Nick grinned.

  By then everyone in the office had gathered around.

  “I am not going to give a speech,” Earl began, looking delighted. “I’m sure you’re all tired of hearing me complain about still working at my age—”

  Cal Peterson cut in jokingly. “It’s not fair of you to walk out without letting one of us win the yearly bet. Just how old are you?”

  Earl chuckled. “Old enough to know better, but not old enough to stop doing it.”

  There was laughter and cheers.

  Earl waved both his hands to bring the group to order. “Ladies and gentlemen…may I present Nick Tremain, the new owner of the Greenport News. You’ve got a renowned photojournalist for a boss now, but I’ll let him tell you about that himself.”

  Earl smiled at Nick. “It’s all yours.”

  But it wasn’t all Nick’s yet, as the staff crowded around Earl to wish him well. In that moment only Joy stood to one side, where Nick’s full attention was on her. There was a hint of devilishness around his mouth. Joy flicked him a look of sheer incredulity before she included herself among Earl’s well-wishers.

  “I’m not leaving without a big hug from you,” Earl smiled, getting to Joy last.

  “Oh, Earl,” Joy said emotionally as the hug ended. “I’m really going to miss you.” She’d already had that feeling on her mind, knowing she was going to give three weeks’ notice this morning.

  Earl fondly patted Joy’s shoulder as he looked out at all the people who had worked for him. “Is tomorrow enough time for you to get a cake for me?”

  Pamela called out, “I’m going to bake you my triple-layer chocolate cake.”

  Someone joked, “Is that the one we have to use a saw on?”

  Earl smiled broadly. “Settle down, kiddies. And behave yourselves.”

  Cal Peterson said, “So you finally get to take your wife to Florida. Pearl must be dancing a jig.”

  “She’s certainly nagged me about it long enough,” Earl replied. “But I will be around a few more days just to make sure you all stay in line. Only right now I’m going out to have myself a long, leisurely breakfast while the man of the hour takes over.” Earl gave Nick a two-finger salute.

  A tense silence filled the newsroom as soon as Earl walked out. All eyes were on Nick. Joy was certain she was the only one that noticed Nick was a little tense himself. She could tell just from the way he stood.

  Nick smiled at the group. “Let me begin by saying that my intention is to be more than an editor. I’m planning to work out in the field, as well.”

  The twenty-eight-year-old staff photographer for the Greenport News cleared his throat. “I’m real familiar with your photos, Mr. Tremain. I guess you won’t be needing me around here anymore.”

  “You’re George DeGeneris, right?” Nick questioned.

  “Yes, sir.” George put an uneasy hand up to his hair in a reflexive motion, but the untamable blond cowlick sprang right back up.

  “Cut the ‘sir.’” Nick grinned. “Now it may take me a little time to put a name to all your faces, but I am fully aware of the work each and every one of you do around here. And I haven’t seen anything to complain about. I’m especially familiar with your photos, George. Your concepts are fresh and alive. What I’m going to want is more of the same. A lot more of the same. I want a lot more of the same from all of you, but I’m also going to want you to stretch beyond where you’ve been. We’re going to create something together. Something new and different.

  “We are not going to be just a local paper anymore. We’re going to feature stories that today’s top magazines will envy. We’re not going to just deliver the news. We’re going to tell the stories behind the news. In-depth stories about the people that make the news and not just in Greenport. We’re going to cover the entire East End. We are going to become the East End Journal and we are going to give the ‘big boys’ a run for the money. And, by the way, it’s Nick and not Mr. Tremain.”

  The applause came. It started slowly then built up. And the ice was broken, replaced by an excitement that permeated the room.

  Joy saw Nick take a deep breath and then give one of his easy, relaxed smiles. She felt the same exhilaration as her co-workers and thought about how much she would have liked to be a part of his plans.

  Nick made a kidding motion with a slice of his hand in front of his throat to quiet the buzz that had started. Succeeding, he spoke again. “I’m going to want to meet personally with each one of you throughout the day. Right now I think we all need another cup of coffee.”

  Except for Joy and Nick, the staff dispersed to queue up in front of the coffee maker.

  “How about being the first one I meet with personally?” Nick asked with a teasing grin that was meant only for her.

  Joy wanted to return his dynamite smile, but she didn’t. “Actually there is something I need to speak to you about,” she replied in a professional tone.

  The smile left Nick’s mouth as his eyes searched hers. He nodded briefly and then led the way to the office that had just become his.

  “Sit down,” Nick said, once they’d both entered the room and he’d closed the door—and after they’d stood for a fraction of a second just evaluating each other. She was nervous. He could read that easily, though she was working at not letting it show.

  Joy settled herself into one of the two wooden chairs in front of the desk while Nick took the chair behind the desk. He leaned forward.

  Joy swallowed. “I can’t believe you’ve bought the paper. But, anyway, everyone loved your ideas.”

  “Did you?” He was studying her closely.

  “Absolutely.” Her eyes became bright with the excitement he’d engendered with his comments before Joy dropped them to look at her lap.

  Nick watched her pull the hem of her skirt down some. It still didn’t get any nearer to her knees.

  Joy swallowed again. “I was going to give Earl three weeks’ notice this morning. It seems that you’re the one that I’m going to have to give my notice to now.” There was no way she could stay and work with him, not feeling the way she did about him. Just thinking about it was torture.

  Nick felt like he’d just had his lights punched out. He picked up a pen from the desk and fiddled with it. How was he supposed to court her with her taking off? “You have three more months to run on your contract here.”

  “I know that.” Joy’s focus was on the pen he was holding, not his eyes.

  “Would you mind telling me what brought you to this decision?”

  “I’ve been offered an assignment with New World magazine. They’re going to be sending reporters out to a number of South American countries to do stories on daily life. I’m slated to go to Bolivia. There’s still some reservation on their part, but they’re giving me a shot.” It was her chance to, if nothing else, have a stimulating career for herself.

  “There shouldn’t be any reservations on their part. They don’t deserve you if they haven’t figured out how talented you are.”

  Joy’s gray-green eyes came up to find sincerity written on his face. She felt all aglow at his praise.

  This time it was Nick who broke eye contact. “I’m not letting you out of your contract.”

  Joy blinked. “That’s ridiculous. In three weeks’ time you’ll find a hundred reporters to take my place.”

  “I want you,” Nick said tersely, his eyes back on her.

  “I can’t stay, Nick,” Joy said just as succinctly while their gazes locked.

  Nick dropped the pen to the desk. “I don’t see that you have any choice but to work out your contract. I am not accepting your notice.”

  “I have a choice. I can break my contract,” Joy returned rigidly.

  “Try it and I’ll sue you,” Nick said, bluffing.

  Joy tipped up her unsteady chin. She didn’t know if she wanted to cry or throw something at him. “You’d actually sue me?”

  He didn’t a
nswer, just continued to look at her.

  Joy no longer felt the threat of tears. What she felt was frustration and anger. “What made you decide to buy this paper, anyway?”

  “I decided it was time for me to settle down in one place and build roots.”

  Joy thought about his answer for a long moment.

  “I get it,” she said, pushing back her chair and standing. Of course, she got it. He was showing Diana that he’d settled down. It was his traveling that had broken them up.

  “What do you get?” Nick asked, reaching her as she got to the door.

  Joy turned around to give him a withering glance. “We both know why you picked now to settle down.”

  Nick couldn’t hold back a grin. She looked so cute with her eyes blazing at him. “I really don’t think you have a clue.”

  “Oh, I have a clue. I have more than a clue,” Joy retorted.

  “Forget what you think you know.” Nick put his palms to the door on either side of her, pinning her in place. “How about we talk about a compromise?”

  “What kind of compromise?” Joy asked, partly steaming, partly intoxicated by his proximity. More intoxicated than steaming. And thrilled. Being praised by someone of his professional stature was exhilarating.

  “You work out the rest of your contract without being angry at me, and if you still want to leave then I’ll see that you get an assignment from someone who will appreciate you. It’s obvious you haven’t met with the right people.”

  Joy narrowed her eyes at him. “Is this a snow job?” Even if it was, Joy realized, what choice did she have? She couldn’t imagine any editor hiring a journalist who had been sued for breach of contract.

  “No.”

  “Can I go to my desk now?” How in heaven’s name was she going to get through three months of being around him?

  “Are you still mad at me?” Nick angled his head.

  “Yes.” She didn’t get all that much conviction in her tone. It was impossible for her to disassociate herself from his sexiness.

  “How about if I buy you pizza with anchovies for lunch?” Nick asked lazily.

  “Are you planning to eat at the same table?” Remembering how he had balked the night before about her topping choice Joy did her utmost to keep a straight face. His playfulness was irresistible.