As if sensing a change in me, Harper’s smile faded. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll always think of you as a dork.”
“Strangely, that does make me feel better.”
I should have gotten up and left as soon as I finished eating, but I liked this. I’d missed it. Whatever else Harper and I had been, we were friends. And I’d been short on those lately, especially with Lena spending so much time with Conner.
“Do you want to see the progress we’ve made?” she asked, a shyness to her voice.
“Absolutely.” I threw our trash away and walked around the desk to stand behind her.
“It’s still a work in progress, but my intern has been building the website.” She clicked through a few pages, showing a newsfeed, an archive, even a page that looked like it would have pictures of community events.
“Wow.” I leaned down closer. “That looks amazing.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Her lips curved into a smile. “It still needs a few things. I’d like a way for people to submit tips through the site. I finally got access to the email account for the paper, and it’s a mess. That’s where everyone has been sending tips, and they’re mixed in with all the spam emails.”
“I don’t think Lance put a lot of time or thought into things after his aunt died.”
“It’s sad, but I get it. He wasn’t a reporter, didn’t have a passion for newspapers. I do.” She looked up at me, her eyes bright. “I was meant to be a reporter. I love it. The Weekly Wine isn’t exactly the kind of paper I always imagined running, but this town deserves better. I can fix it up, expand the readership, and then maybe Lance could sell it to someone who has the time and energy for it.”
She had so much passion, so much direction. I couldn’t help being both awed and a bit jealous. “We’re lucky you came back.” I cleared my throat. “I mean, the town is lucky.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and focused on the laptop once again, but I didn’t miss the blush creeping up her neck.
“This paper needs a real direction,” she said. “In the first few issues, we’ll be testing things out, but I need to set up a system so whoever takes over after me can continue what I’ve started.”
I gripped the back of the chair, trying not to let her see how her words hit me. I’d known Harper’s return was only temporary, but the reminder still stung.
She went on, oblivious to my distress. “I just need to weed through these writers who’ve applied and figure out how much money the paper has left from the endowment Lance’s aunt left in her will.”
I finally found my voice again. “I have no doubt you’ll do all that and more.”
Chapter Eleven
Why did I think I could do this? I leaned back in my chair, staring at the computer screen, where my emails were visible. I had another four articles to choose and edit before I could even get to layout.
And this was due to the printer tomorrow.
Leaning forward, I buried my face in my hands. This was a mess. I was a mess.
My phone rang, and I answered without checking who it was. “Hello?”
“Hi, honey. You finally answered one of my calls.”
I shrank inward. “What do you want Garret?”
“Do I have to want something to call you?”
“Yes, I’m on a deadline.”
He laughed, and I clutched the phone hard. “You don’t have a job; you couldn’t possibly be on a deadline.”
“Shows how much you know. I was hired as a managing editor for the Superiore Bay Times.” The lie rolled off my tongue easily, and I didn’t regret it. I couldn’t tell him I was working for free to produce something called the Weekly Wine.
He was silent for a moment. “You took another job without speaking to me? Your husband and your boss.”
“Wow, okay, where do we start? Yes, the low hanging fruit. My boss. I do seem to remember placing a letter of resignation on your desk. As for the husband thing, your lawyer is supposed to be drawing up divorce papers, and yet, I haven’t seen anything. Why is that?”
I didn’t want anything from him, except a divorce. It should be easy.
“Just come home to Boston and we can discuss this in person.”
I scoffed at that. “That place is not my home. Bye, Garret.”
I hung up and rubbed my temples to stave off the oncoming headache that man always gave me. I was so lost in my own head I hadn’t seen anyone come in.
Someone cleared their throat, and I looked up to find both Stevie and Carter in front of my desk.
“That the husband I read about in the last issue?” Stevie asked, dropping into the empty chair. “The one you left for Carter.”
“It wasn’t for Carter,” I said at the same time he said, “It wasn’t for me.” We stared at each other before laughing.
Stevie shrugged. “Sounded intense.”
“It always is with him.” I drew in a breath. “Okay, we have a lot to do. You up for some proofreading?”
She shrugged, and I set her on the task.
I stood and pulled Carter to the side of the office. “It’s not that I’m not happy you’re here, but we have a lot of work to do. I’m probably going to be here all night.”
He mimed rolling up his sleeves despite wearing a short-sleeved shirt. “Put me in, Coach.”
“Really?”
He rolled his eyes playfully. “Yes, really. I’m not as useless as people say I am.”
I handed him Stevie’s article to proof, but I couldn’t stop sneaking glances at him over the rim of my glasses. When he caught me looking, I pretended to straighten them and focus on my computer, where I played around with layouts.
Most of our freelance writers turned their stuff in at the last minute, something that drove me batty. There would be a rude awakening if that continued.
Stevie propped her feet on the edge of the desk. “This one is ridiculously boring. No one cares about anything happening in Hidden Cove.”
“We need to fill the space.” It was better than some of the others I’d gotten. The gossip on the other hand, that was gold this week.
Apparently, the old man who ran the pet store had a new bae, a woman who lived in Boston and drove the few hours to get here to see him. To the people of this town, Boston was even worse than Hidden Cove.
Then, there was the teenager who worked at the grocery store, Sam Cinder. She beat out the valedictorian of Hidden Cove’s senior class for a scholarship to Brown. Once I printed this, she’d be a celebrity in this town.
The gossip had appalled me when I first read the paper, but I quickly learned the people here thrived on it, whether it was about them or someone else. I just made sure nothing we printed was mean.
A few hours into our work, I checked the time, realizing it was already ten p.m.. “Stevie, you need to get going.”
She groaned. “But there’s still work to do.”
“And I can finish it, but your mom is going to worry.”
She stood and put the paper she’d been marking up on my desk. “Fine. I’ll be back in the morning to take it to the printer.”
“Deal.”
When she was gone, the proximity to Carter seemed like too much, like he was closer than before. “It’s late. You can go too,” I said.
He barely looked up. “Nah, I’m staying as long as you are.”
“You didn’t have to work tonight?”
“They do give me the occasional night off.” He lifted his head to flash me a smile, and I swear my insides melted right there. His eyes held mine for a fraction too long, until I couldn’t take it anymore and looked away.
“Why do you do that?” he asked.
“Do what?” I kept my eyes on my screen, pretending to type something despite not having a single document open.
“Nice try,” Carter said, much closer this time. He put his hand on the top of the screen and closed it.
“We need to keep working, Carter.”
“We can take a
short break. I’m hungry. You?” He pulled out his phone, not waiting for me. “Tacos?”
“Sure.”
He ordered for us both before sliding his phone into his back pocket and walking to the coffee machine. A few moments later, he set a mug in front of me and took a seat.
“You not having any?” I asked, taking a sip. It was heavenly.
“Nah, I’m okay. But you looked like you needed a good shot of energy.”
He noticed so many things about me, but then, he always had. The world saw Carter as flippant. An uncaring playboy, who only loved his cars. I knew the truth. He observed the world, took everything in and internalized it all. Every detail. Nothing escaped him. And he felt things. Empathy, it was so rare in today’s world. I’d always considered Carter my unicorn.
“Thank you,” I said, hating how small my voice sounded.
“You’re welcome.”
“Not just for the coffee. For being here on your one night off. You didn’t have to stay and help.”
He pressed his lips together, looking like he couldn’t decide what to say to that. “I … like hanging out with you, Harps. I missed it.”
I couldn’t have stopped the smile even if I wanted to. This time, though, I didn’t want to. “Why are you so easy, Carter?”
He raised an eyebrow in question.
“You know what I mean. Sitting here with you … I don’t question myself. I don’t constantly wish I was anywhere else. It’s calming, and I don’t know why.”
He leaned forward, his eyes blazing. “No one should ever make you question yourself. Not ever. Do you hear me?”
I released a breath, wanting to live in his words. “You should hate me.” Tears came unbidden to my eyes. “And I can’t understand why you don’t. What I did to you …”
He shot from the chair and rounded the desk, leaning down to wrap his arms around me. “You were a kid.”
“I just left.”
“I know.” He rested his chin on my hair. “I was there.”
“Who does that?”
“I always told myself you didn’t have a choice. I remember what your mother was like.”
“That hasn’t changed much.” His assumptions were mostly true, but it didn’t make me feel better. “My parents decided my summers here had to end so I could focus on my future. And you … I couldn’t say goodbye, knowing I wasn’t coming back. I was scared.”
His lips brushed the top of my head, and the contact vibrated through my entire body, hitting every nerve ending. “It’s okay. We were just kids back then, Harps.”
I appreciated him saying that, but I knew I could have done better by him. And this next confession wasn’t okay either. “I didn’t come back for Grandpa’s funeral because Garret wouldn’t let me. The only reason I was on assignment was to keep me busy.”
He pulled back. “Why wouldn’t your husband want you to go to your grandfather’s funeral?”
The truth burned in my chest, and I wanted to tell him everything just as I had as a teenager.
We were interrupted by a knock on the door. We’d locked it once it got dark outside. Carter sighed in exasperation before walking to open it. He returned a moment later with our food and started taking cardboard containers out of the bag.
I’d lost my appetite and really just wanted to get back to work, but the question still sat between us, a giant elephant squeezing this tiny peace we’d developed.
Carter opened one of the containers and looked inside, but he didn’t eat, just stared.
“My mom.” I closed my eyes for a fraction of a second and looked at him again. “She told Garret about you.”
I was so embarrassed that I’d let my husband keep me away from supporting my grandma. I’d known what he was doing when he gave me the assignment, but I hadn’t fought it. He wasn’t only my husband, he was my boss, and that line was one I never knew what to do with.
I spent so many years after high school trying to fit into an elite world I didn’t belong in, the one I’d been raised in. I tried pleasing my parents, making them proud, and then I tried making Garret proud. But I only learned that nothing was ever good enough. The harder I worked, the more success I earned, they just wanted more and more, never satisfied. For years, I gave them little pieces of myself until I had nothing left.
Now, sitting here in Superiore Bay, in the office of a tabloid dressed up as a newspaper—that didn’t even pay me—I felt the hollowed-out shell of what I’d become start filling again.
“Is it okay for me to hate him?” Carter asked suddenly.
I knew who he meant, and for some reason, his question made me laugh. “I’d expect it.”
He nodded, a serious expression still on his face. “Good.” After a beat, a smile played on his lips, and I knew we were okay.
The knot in my stomach loosened, and I picked up a taco, taking a giant bite as my appetite came back. It happened in slow motion, the sour cream. A dollop of it mixed with cheese and meat fell from the bottom of my taco, right onto my black shirt.
“Oops.” I laughed at myself and set my taco down. “Any napkins?”
Carter reached over the desk to grab a stack of napkins, his fingers grazing mine. Flustered, I wiped my shirt and chastised myself. Right now, my heart was in shreds, definitely not suitable for long hugs and finger grazes. I’d come to Superiore Bay to rediscover myself, no one else.
We finished eating and got back to work by silent agreement. After a while, we were ready to work on the layout. I set my computer between us, and we both stood, bent to look over it. Carter pointed at a headline he thought needed moved. I agreed, so I made the change.
“Hey, this is kinda fun.” He bumped my shoulder, throwing me a smile. With a laugh, I bumped him back, wondering why it had never been this easy working with Garret.
Chapter Twelve
“I don’t know.” Harper brushed a loose curl behind her ear. “I’m excited about revitalizing this paper. And don’t tell me it’s crazy.” She held a hand up to stall me from interrupting. “I know it’s crazy, but I feel like if I can turn this paper around, it will prove that I’ve still got it, you know? The fire I used to have for this business.”
I could listen to her talk about her passion for the newspaper business all night. I wished I had as much drive as she did. Honestly, I could listen to her talk about anything. I couldn’t stop staring at her.
“What?” She scrunched her nose up at me. “Do I have taco sauce on my face?” She ran a hand over her chin.
“No, your face is perfect,” I blurted before I could think better of it. “Your shirt, on the other hand, is a mess.” I laughed. She was forever dropping sauces on herself. It was one of her most adorable imperfections.
“Darn.” She scrubbed at the new stain. “Ugh, now I look like a slob.”
“It’s late, I think it’s safe to assume no one will be having a newspaper emergency tonight. But you should probably keep a spare clean shirt in your desk drawer just in case.”
“Oh, shut up, you.” She smirked at me, reaching into the bottom drawer of her desk. “Ta da.” She held up a clean t-shirt, and I lost it. It felt so good to laugh with her again. In so many ways, she’d changed, but in all the best ways, she was still my Harper. She just wasn’t mine anymore.
“Be right back, and then I have to get some work done.” She darted into the bathroom to change.
She’d performed a miracle on this office. I glanced around at the simple, clean version of the crappy office Lance had neglected for so long. In just a few days, she’d cleaned up this place and nearly had a full newspaper laid out for the printer. I could only imagine what she might accomplish over the next few months. If she stayed.
The people of Superiore Bay would be surprised when they received their copies of the new and improved Weekly Wine. I studied Harper’s scribbled notes on the dry erase board. She and Stevie had made so many changes from the original layout I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
“What do
you think?” Harper came up behind me. “We’re actually going to pull it off.”
She looked so happy. So alive it was contagious.
“I see you’re keeping the gossip section. Good choice. The old ladies would probably show up on your doorstep with a bucket of tar and feathers if you left it out.”
“I have to admit, it’s entertaining.” Harper moved to erase a line of notes from the board. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that because I’ll deny it.”
“My lips are sealed.”
“Okay, you need to leave, you’re distracting me.” She tried to shoo me out of her way.
“Can’t you take this home with you to finish?” I didn’t like the thought of her staying so late in the office by herself.
“No, I need to finish the final layout on the computer here so I can have it ready for Stevie to pick up. She’s going to drop it off at the printer early tomorrow so we make our deadline. I’m in for an all nighter.”
“Let me stay and help. I won’t be a bother, promise.”
“Why?” She shook her head at me. “You hate this kind of work.”
“Call me a neanderthal, but I can’t leave you here all night. It’s not safe—and I’d say that even if you were a dude. There’s safety in numbers and all that.”
“A dude, huh?” She laughed. “Sure you would.” She dropped a stack of articles on the desk beside hers and handed me a red pen. “Make yourself useful and look for typos.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I sat down, relieved she’d agreed. I didn’t know how long Harper was staying, and I wanted to soak up every minute with her I could before she was gone again.
“This reminds me of that horrible group project we did over spring break in junior year. I was here on vacation, and you and Lena had waited till the last minute to finish your research presentation for biology.”
“Oh yeah, I blocked that out.” I laughed at the memory. “That was the worst visit ever. It was due right when we came back from break, and we had no idea how long it was going to take to finish it.”
The Second Chance Page 7