Her Heart's Promise

by Carolyne Aarsen

  “She didn’t want to. She told me Paul was over, that it was a mistake and she wanted another chance with me. I couldn’t give that to her.”

  “Because...” Nadine prompted.

  Clint turned and looked directly at her, his eyes glowing in the dusk. “Because, like I said, I was attracted to you. This whole thing with her and Paul became a good reason for me to break up with her.”

  His smile held a touch of melancholy, as if skipping back to that time. “Except my timing was as bad then as it is now. You had moved to the city and were still dating Paul. I was kind of messed up, and thought maybe you and Paul were trying to work things out. I figured you knew about Paul and Leslie by then.”

  Nadine sucked in a quick breath, fighting down another burst of anger at her sister.

  Leslie never said anything. Her sister never let on. And neither did Paul. He just kept pretending everything was fine.

  How could they?

  “And you liked me?” she pressed, wanting to think about something else. Focus on the more positive things Clint was telling her.

  “I’ve liked you for a long time, but you seemed determined to keep me at arm’s length.”

  “I thought you liked my sisters. Like everyone else, including my boyfriend.”

  “I was attracted to your sisters, that’s true enough. They were interesting and Leslie flirted with me. For a young guy who is in a new school, that’s kind of heady stuff. But then I met you.”

  He brushed his fingers over her cheek, his eyes intent on her.

  She swallowed, the old attraction weaving with the new emotions he was creating in her.

  “You intrigued me. You challenged me, but you always talked to me like I was someone not worth your time.”

  “Defense mechanism,” she said, swallowing as his fingers caressed her face, traced the outline of her lips.

  “Against?”

  “You. And how I felt about you. And the fact that you, like every guy I knew, were more attracted to my sisters than me—guys who pretended to like being with me in order to get to know them.”

  “Teenage boys can be shallow. You were probably way above them anyway.”

  He leaned closer, and Nadine wondered if he would kiss her again.

  “I should have been smarter,” he said, brushing a strand of hair back from her face, tangling his fingers in it and drawing her closer. “I should have spent more time with you. Pushed past that prickly exterior. I just never saw you as anything but a confident, smart girl who knew exactly who she was.”

  His words settled into the old wounds and soothed them. Filled the emptiness she had felt for so long. Resurrected old dreams, woven with new ones.

  “And what is that?” she asked, knowing she was flirting with him. Just a little.

  He chuckled, and she knew he realized it too.

  “Gorgeous,” he said, brushing a kiss over her forehead. “Stunning.” Her eyes were next as his breath fanned her lips. “Amazing and smart.” And with that, he claimed her mouth, pulling her close to him and wrapping his arms around her.

  Nadine gave in, tangling her arms around his neck, feeling the warmth of his chest, the caress of his lips.

  This, she thought, this is what I’ve been missing. This is what I’ve needed.

  It felt like a slow, warm homecoming. A place she belonged, here in his arms.

  After a while, he pulled back, looking intently down at her. “You mean a lot to me, Nadine. Always have.”

  She hardly dared believe this was happening; hardly dared to think they could be here. Together.

  She stood in the warm circle of his arms, staring up at him, wondering what to think.

  Clint pressed his index finger between her eyebrows. “You’re frowning, which means you’re thinking. What’s going on behind those beautiful brown eyes?”

  She smiled at the compliment, and angled her head to one side, as if to view him more objectively.

  “I guess I’m just trying to be practical.”

  “As in, what’s next?”

  She nodded, thankful that he had been the one to bring it up.

  “Well, why don’t we let things go the way they should?” He brushed another kiss over her forehead. “Like we should have all those years ago.”

  “Okay. We can do that.” Then she pulled away. “And...at the office? At work? How do we let things go there?”

  A faint shadow crossed his face, and she wondered what caused it. Then decided she didn’t want to know. She had waited so long for this moment, this time, she wanted to savor it.

  “We let things go one day at a time,” he said with a wry smile. “Which would be the best way to handle this.”

  Nadine returned his smile, thankful for his easy reply. His calm demeanor.

  “You’re probably right,” she said.

  “I usually am,” he teased, tucking his arm into hers. “And right now, I think you should get home before your grandmother starts worrying about you.”

  “When Grandma finds out I was with you she won’t care how long I stay out. She’s your biggest fan,” Nadine said as they walked back through the trees to the street.

  “I kind of guessed that,” Clint said. “That day she asked me over.”

  “I feel like I should apologize for being so snappy to you. About Leslie. Now that I know...” her voice trailed off, a glimmer of shame rising up.

  “I understand,” Clint said. “Though I’m glad it’s all cleared up now.”

  They got back to her car, and Nadine reached in her purse for her keys, only to realize she hadn’t gotten them back from Clint.

  He remembered that at the same time, and as he handed them to her, a memory niggled at her.

  “When you asked me out, you said you had a couple of things you wanted to talk to me about. Did we get them all?” She gave him a teasing smile, but he didn’t return it.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said then gave her another quick kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He took a step back, and she sensed he was waiting until she got in the car. Watching out for her.

  The thought gave her a surge of warmth. As she drove away, she saw him standing in the street, watching her leave with his hands in his pockets.

  Though the sight of him watching her should have made her feel protected, she couldn’t help feeling uncertain.

  Because she sensed that they hadn’t covered what he wanted to talk about.

  Worse than that, she sensed it had less to do with his and Leslie’s relationship and more to do with Skyline.

  Chapter 13

  The next day was quieter than Nadine would have liked.

  Clint wasn’t in his office when she arrived. A fire had come in over the police scanner, and because he was first in the office, he had gone to report on it. But, he had left a message for her that he wanted to see her as soon as he returned.

  So, she headed to her office to get a few more things done. As soon as she clicked her mouse, the first document showing up on her computer was the Skyline story of the accident. Clint’s fire would go above the fold in the next edition, but Nadine wanted this one below anyway. She had put off writing it, because she wasn’t sure where it would end up. She rearranged the hastily scribbled notes on one side of the U-shaped computer desk, reviewing the information she had just about committed to memory.

  As Nadine wrote up the story, weaving in the statistics, one part of her mind analyzed the flow while the other kept her emotions in check with difficulty. She had to prove to Clint that she could write this piece objectively.

  She was immersed in her work when she heard a tap at the door behind her.

  She closed the file she was working on, feeling guilty as she opened another file.

  “Come in,” she called out without looking up. She marked off one of the papers and turned back to the screen.

  She kept her attention on the screen, her fingers flying over the keyboard. She was about to hit the backspace key to correct an error when she realized t
hat whoever had come into the office still had said nothing. Glancing over her shoulder, she found her vision blocked by an expanse of white shirt, bisected by a brown tie.

  Clint.

  She swallowed down her anxious expectation, far too conscious of his hovering presence behind her. Her fingers stilled as she became all too aware of what had happened last night. Her breath came in shallow puffs and she struggled to concentrate. Surely he wasn’t going to kiss her again? Not here in the office.

  Then his hands came down beside her. She felt the faint warmth of his breath on her neck, his presence surrounding her.

  “I see you’re working on the subscription records?” His voice was a rumble behind her, raising her pulse and sucking her breath away.

  Guilt suffused her. She tried to keep her eyes straight ahead and away from his hands bracketing her.

  “You’re distracting me,” she said, her voice breathless.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  He moved his hand, his weight shifted, and Nadine thought he would straighten. Instead, she felt his fingers brush her hair aside, sending shivers skittering down her spine. And then, impossibly, warm, soft lips touched her neck. They lingered a moment, their touch weakening her. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, wished he would continue, prayed he would stop.

  Then he straightened, and Nadine felt bereft.

  He walked to one corner of her desk and perched on the edge, looking at her. “What’s your plan for the subscription list?”

  “I thought we could put out some ads, send out some newsletters.” She stopped herself. She blamed her nervousness on a combination of his caress and the story she was hiding.

  He gave her a smile, but she could see he wasn’t fooled by her babbling.

  “So, was that what you wanted to talk to me about?” she asked.

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Julie told me that you wanted to see me. I don’t imagine it was for, well...” she let the sentence drift away, and he gave her a crooked smile.

  “To try to kiss you?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe.”

  He chuckled. “No. I’m trying to be professional and not succeeding. Though I had hoped the chance would come up.”

  She released a nervous laugh.

  “I’m going out on a limb and guessing you were working on the accident story with Skyline,” he said, picking up a piece of paper and scanning it.

  On that paper were notes she had written up after the accident.

  “Yes. I was.” She leaned back in her chair, sorry for the switch in the mood, sensing this would not turn out well.

  He pulled in a deep breath, then he set the paper down and crossed his arms. “I may as well jump right in. I was hoping you could give it to Wally or Allison.”

  She closed her eyes, their moment of closeness gone.

  “Can I ask why?” She kept her voice low and controlled.

  “Objectivity.”

  “Which you don’t think I have.”

  Clint shook his head. “I think you’re too close to it.”

  “Which you conveniently found out yesterday when I told you what happened to my father,” she snapped, surprised at the sense of betrayal she felt. Was that the main reason he’d asked her out?

  He told you about the kiss. The apology.

  “I knew how that affected you before last night, Nadine.”

  “Yes. But you didn’t know exactly how much it bothered me.”

  “I think I did.”

  “And you still want me to hand the story over.”

  “Yes. I do.”

  “You want to protect your paper from Skyline’s lawyers.”

  “Believe it or not, it’s not just about the paper. It’s about you too.”

  She gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

  He tapped his fingers on his arm, holding her gaze, as if delving deeper into her psyche. “I’ve seen firsthand how these vendettas can take over. I lived with it my whole life, watching my father’s endless legal battles with his partner. The lawsuits, the visits with the lawyers.”

  “You don’t want to go through it with the paper.”

  “No, I don’t. I don’t want to see you go through it either. I don’t want it to take over your life, like it took over my father’s. It won’t satisfy you in the end.”

  “I’ve been a reporter long enough. I know how to be objective.”

  “Do you?”

  Those two words seemed to strike at the very integrity she was always so proud of; they questioned her motives.

  And? Could he be right?

  Her emotions wavered.

  “When it comes to Skyline, you seem to have blinders on,” he pressed.

  “Thanks to our date, you know exactly why.”

  “I do. And I sympathize for you, but I don’t think you pushing this through to the end will make your father’s death any easier.”

  “I loved my father and his name was dragged through the dirt. Skyline reneged on his benefits on his pension. They need to pay.”

  As she laid out her reasons, she heard the shrill tone in her voice. Saw the sorrow on Clint’s face.

  The pity.

  The sharp ring of the phone broke the moment. Julie’s voice came over the intercom. “Trace is on line one for you, Nadine.” At exactly the same time, her office door opened and Elaine strode in carrying a pile of computer printouts that Nadine had requested.

  Nadine pressed her hand against her face, confusion warring with a hysterical urge to laugh. She hit the button that connected her to Julie’s speaker phone. “I prefer not to talk to him,” she said sharply.

  “Sure, hon.” Julie broke off the connection.

  “You’re busy,” he said as he pushed himself off the desk; then, without a backward glance, walked away.

  Nadine followed Clint’s exit with her eyes, still ignoring Elaine. Finally, she pulled herself together and took the documents from her.

  “What did Clint want?” Elaine asked. “You look like you’re in shock.”

  “It’s fine,” she said, waving Elaine’s comment off. She felt as if she had come to a juncture in her life, as if everything she wanted stood in front of her—but she had to make a sacrifice to get it.

  And she didn’t know if she could.

  “What happened?” Elaine asked, leaning on Nadine’s desk, as if to get a closer look at her friend.

  Nadine only shook her head. “Can we do this another time?”

  “Sure.” Elaine straightened. “I understand.”

  Nadine nodded and smiled her thanks. Elaine was a true friend, who knew when to ask questions and when to back off.

  When the door closed, she looked back at the screen, trying to read the words she had typed just moments ago and trying to understand what she had meant.

  She might as well have been reading Chinese. She let her eyes close with her hands idle on the keyboard. In the space of a day, she felt as if her entire world had rearranged. Yesterday at this time, she was contemplating a date with Trace.

  Now...Trace was out of the picture and Clint had taken her out, and, today, had kissed her. Again.

  Then he had told her, once again, to back off Skyline, choosing to protect his paper even after he found out exactly why Nadine needed to do this and how important it was to her.

  Could she back off? After all these years, could she abandon this project?

  Chapter 14

  That night, Nadine prowled around the apartment, restless and uneasy, all the while berating herself for acting like a teenager in the throes of a crush.

  At the same time, the words she’d thrown at Clint swirled and twisted through her mind.

  Was she able to be objective when it came to Skyline?

  Was she letting it take over her life as Clint accused her of?

  She retreated to her bedroom-cum-office. Once there, she pulled up the Skyline file. She typed a few words, deleted them, and rearranged some of the copy,
but it didn’t help. Somehow the words sounded stilted and harsh. She didn’t know if it was what Clint had said that haunted her, or the reality of what Clint said.

  Frustrated, she fiddled with the words again. Nothing came. She decided to check some of the previous stories to see what she’d done with them.

  A few clicks got her into her Skyline folder on Dropbox.

  She highlighted them and opened them all at once. The first one came up on top and Nadine skimmed it, trying to read her reporting from a third-party point of view. It was easier to do now, this many years after the fact.

  She wrote it five years ago, a year after her father died and she started working at the paper. She wrinkled her nose at the setup and the flow of the story. Obviously written shortly after taking too many journalism courses.

  And obviously written from the perspective of a very angry and bitter young woman. Nadine sighed as she read through it, realizing how this must look to Clint and anyone else who read it. Long words, lots of rhetoric, and sprinkled with exclamation marks. With a click of her mouse button she closed it and skimmed through the next one, and then the next.

  Clint was right. Her emotions had guided her writing. When she compared it to other stories she had written, the Skyline articles held a shrill tone.

  On a hunch, she printed out the accident story she had written and some of the other Skyline articles and brought them to her grandmother, who sat on the couch knitting socks, humming along with a CD of hymns playing softly on the stereo.

  “Can you do me a favor, Grandma?” Nadine asked, handing her the rough draft of her most recent article. “Can you read this and tell me what you think? I need another opinion.”

  “Okay.” Barbara put her knitting down, took the paper, and slipped on the reading glasses hanging from a delicate chain around her neck. She took the paper from Nadine and started reading.

  When she was finished, she looked at Nadine then back at the paper.

  “Tell me the truth, Grandma,” Nadine urged, sitting down on the couch beside her.

  Barbara pursed her lips, glanced over it again, and then handed it back to Nadine. “It sounds very angry. You make it look like the accident is all Skyline’s fault, without coming right out and saying that, of course.”