“Fabulous. The money all goes to a good cause.” He spoke in a monotone, hoping Ronnie would catch on and shut the hell up.
“Don’t you think that means something?”
“Yeah. I do. I think it means she needs another image to splash in the centerfold of her tabloid.”
“But—”
“Enough, Ronnie. Please.” This was not a conversation he wanted to have tonight. Or ever. “Just whose side are you on?”
Ronnie gripped Cam’s elbow and held his gaze. “Yours. Always yours.”
‡
Chapter Thirty-Three
Bright and early Monday morning, Lydia pushed her way through the double doors and up to her floor at the City Star. She circled her small office—not much in there was hers. It was filled with generics. Generic plants. Generic office supplies. Generic furniture.
This place had never been anything more than a bookmark, a placeholder until the next big adventure. Only, her next chapter never came. Because Lydia never bothered to turn the page.
On an exhale, she dropped the empty cardboard box to the floor. She had no files on this computer to delete—everything had been written on her laptop. All of her photographs were archived at home as well. She sank into her chair, clicking open her e-mail, yet again. No response from Cam.
There was an aching void in her chest. She missed him. She missed him and she missed Maddie. A sob rose instantly at the thought of them and just as quickly, she tamped it away. This was not the time. She would manage. She would be just fine. As long as fine included a hole the size of New England in her heart. Love. The word had been an echo in her mind for the past two days.
She closed her eyes and tapped away at her computer. For a short time, she actually wondered if she could be that woman. The one who lived in a house and picked the kids up from school each day and had a white picket fence and a dog. Okay, maybe not the dog… but the rest of it. If the kids were as amazing as Maddie, then definitely. And who said she’d have to give up her job? She loved her job, and there were plenty of women who managed everything. The lump caught once more in her throat. Maybe, if she met the right man, she could explore the options of adopting. But that still didn’t give her Maddie or Cam.
The office instant-messaging system pinged, a white box popping up in front of her. From Mara. My office. Now. Well, here goes nothing. Lydia grabbed her purse. She had no time for thoughts of Cam and Maddie and her shriveling ovaries.
She made her way down the hall to Mara’s office. Poking her head inside, she rapped on the door, heels digging into the plush gray carpet. “Hey, boss.”
Mara’s mouth pressed into a blanched, white line despite the smear of red lipstick she had clearly applied moments before. “What is this?” She held up the proofs of Lydia’s story, rattling them in front of her face. “What is this… garbage?”
Lydia tilted her chin higher. Of course, as a tabloid editor, Mara would insult her thoughtful piece about the media invasion of a small town. “It was the only story there worth telling.”
“You were sent to Maple Grove to get a very specific story.” Jaw clenched, Mara spoke through gritted teeth. “And you know it.”
Lydia forced a sickeningly sweet smile. “Right, right. The story about Cameron Tripp being a terrible father. I’m not quite sure why you think readers would give two shits about a nobody dad struggling with single parenthood. Don’t you think our senior editors would have us both fired over that? Oh, that’s right. They wouldn’t fire you—they would fire me. Not that you cared for one second if my job was a casualty of your little plan.”
Mara slanted her eyes at Lydia. After a moment, her face split into a tight-lipped smile. “I should have known you’d go searching for skeletons. You hold yourself so much higher than the rest of us here at the Star, don’t you?” Mara pushed off her desk to a standing a position, matching Lydia in height. “I’ll just have someone else write the story then.”
Lydia mirrored Mara’s sour smirk and blinked innocently. “That is a great idea. Oh, shoot.” She snapped her fingers. “What was that pesky little clause in my contract? The one that states my articles and work cannot be handed over for another writer’s credit. Yeah, after that fiasco with the Noah Blue article, I made sure my lawyer included that. Furthermore, you wouldn’t be able to use my photos… and we both know how much our readers want a picture with the story.”
“You are so fired,” Mara said.
Lydia swiped a hand across her forehead. “Phew! Thank you. You saved me the trouble of quitting. I’ll call you later to discuss my severance package.” Lydia clicked her tongue, while tapping a fingernail on the lacquered cherry desk. “You will be running the story, yes? It’s fine either way, but my kill fee is triple the amount of my payment, plus expenses. You’re better off running the story as is…”
Mara’s face turned the same shade as that horrendous lip color she always wore. Her chest expanded with each angry breath, making her over-inflated breasts look that much more ridiculous.
Lydia placed both hands on her ex-boss’s desk and leaned in close enough to smell the Altoids on her breath. “Oh, and Nick says hi.” Lydia pushed her weight off the desk.
Mara lowered herself into her plush office chair, chewing the inside of her cheek as she shuffled papers around. “Thank you for your service at the City Star, Ms. Ryder. We will no longer be needing your talents.” She forced yet another smile.
“Great.” Lydia clasped her hands together in front of her and swayed back onto her heels. “I trust I can get a stellar reference from you or any of the senior editors here?”
Mara’s icy gaze was nothing compared to her chilling scowl. “Answer me one last thing. Why are you willing to give up your career on this story?”
Cam’s face flashed briefly in Lydia’s memory. “This was never my career. It was a job… nothing more.”
Mara’s eyes narrowed before realization lit her face like Vegas at sunset. “Of course,” she whispered. “Cam’s a charming guy, Lydia. But his heart will never be anyone’s but Hannah’s. Don’t give up this cushy gig for him—”
“This isn’t about him. It’s about me. The City Star? It’s not who I am.” Lydia turned her back to Mara, pausing with her hand on the doorknob. “And I’m sick of compromising that.”
“You’re making a mista—”
But Lydia didn’t listen to anymore. She strolled out of Mara’s office, slamming the door behind her.
‡
Chapter Thirty-Four
Cam pulled up to Kyra’s house, putting the truck in park and grabbing his toolbox from the backseat. He paused before getting out, staring at her house. Of all the people to win his bid at the auction, of course it was Kyra. He hadn’t spoken to her since the Founder’s Dinner, but Ronnie swore up and down she was fine. He was grumpier than usual this week—he knew it, his family knew it… hell, the whole damn town knew it. Even now—the truck was in park, yet he gripped the steering wheel, white knuckled.
He hated Lydia. He hated that after two years, she had managed to open him up only to prove once again that most women were not worth the time or heartache. Hannah was a rarity; an exception to the rule. But what were the chances that lightning would strike twice? What were the chances he’d find a woman as amazing as Hannah twice in one lifetime? Besides, a little loneliness was nothing compared this gut-busting feeling of betrayal. For a moment there, he thought he had actually fallen in love with Lydia. Love. After a week together. When did he become such an idiot?
He grumbled a curse as he climbed out of his truck and made his way to Kyra’s front door. Her one-story home was small, but charming. After a deep breath, he raised a fist and knocked.
The door swung open. A woman stood before him, petite and curvy, in jeans, a T-shirt and a ponytail.
“Kyra?” Cam was stunned. Gone were the skin-pinching skirts and cleavage-bearing shirts. Gone were the ridiculous platform heels and fingernails long enough to cause permanent damage. The g
irl in front of him was fresh-faced and cute. Still not his type, but wow. What a change.
“Hey Cam,” she smiled. “Come on in.” She held a plate of gooey, still-warm chocolate chip cookies. “Want a cookie?”
The cookie was piping hot and melted in his mouth. “Wow… Kyra, these are amazing. Your talents are being wasted at that school.”
“I know. But I can’t take credit for these. My neighbor is a baker and he brought them over just a few minutes ago.” Setting the plate down, she wiped her hands on the jeans and opened the cupboard under the sink. Gesturing, palm up, she nodded her head. “There you go. Work your magic, Tripp.”
He crouched, examining the pipes. “How long have they been leaking?”
“Months. I duct-taped them, which held for a while… but that’s about the extent of my fix-it skills.”
Cam peeled back the wilted silver tape. “Well, it’s more than most could probably do.” He fell back into a seat on the floor and popped open his toolbox, eyes still on the pipes.
Kyra tapped the box with her toe. “Doing a little light reading, huh?”
“What?” Cam turned his attention back to Kyra, and she motioned at the toolbox with her chin.
“Keeping tabs on Tammy finally? All this time and she was only a few hours away.” Kyra rolled her eyes and turned to grab another cookie. “We all should’ve known she’d end up at a tabloid, right?”
“What are you…” Cam’s gaze drifted to the magazine resting on his hammer. Holy shit—Tamara’s smiling face stared back at him. He snatched the magazine, clutching it between two fists. Below it was an envelope addressed to Noah. “This is Lydia’s magazine.”
“Yeah. That was the whole reason she was sent here—Tammy had some evil scheme to ruin you. Again.” Kyra rolled her eyes. “You’d think she’d grow up eventually.”
“Did Lydia know who she was?”
“Nope—not until the morning of the auction.” Kyra paused, and Cam couldn’t look at her. Did everyone in town know what a fucking sap he’d been? “Cam, I don’t want to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong… but Lydia told me everything. Those weren’t her notes you found. They were Tammy’s. Lydia was never going to write that story. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you all this…”
Cam cleared his throat. “Oh. Yeah… I mean, she tried, you know?”
Kyra nodded slowly. “Oh, I know all right. I’ve known you for almost my whole life, Cameron Tripp.” Two hands clenched against her hips. “You didn’t even give her the chance to explain, did you?”
He ran a hand through his hair and down his five o’clock shadow. “Why would I?”
“You are such an idiot,” Kyra mumbled, tossing a crumpled napkin onto the counter. “She risked everything for you.”
He snorted, snatching a wrench from under the magazine. “Oh sure. By going back to New York? Leaving here and continuing to work for the sort of magazines that make Noah’s life a living hell?”
“Did you not even read her story?”
“Of course not.”
Kyra shook her head and stomped over to the kitchen island, thumbing through various mail and magazines. “Here.” She held out this week’s edition of the City Star. “Take it.”
The main page image was a photograph of the other reporters surrounding a terrified-looking Maddie. The headline, Big City Reporters Encroach on Small Town’s Charitable Actions. He looked up to Kyra, who stood above him, arms folded. “It’s all about how media tends to ruin wonderful events by twisting them into stories that aren’t even real. She even takes the blame herself for some.”
Cam’s throat went dry. Her headshot was in the corner at the bottom of the article. Arousal stirred. God, she was beautiful. And talented, he thought, running a finger over a gorgeous image of Maddie laughing.
He looked up to Kyra. “When did you and Lydia get so chummy?”
She shrugged. “We had a… bonding experience. The same man broke both our hearts.” There was a hint of humor in her voice, but Cam winced all the same.
“Kyra… I’m so sorry…”
She held up a hand. “I’m fine, Cam. Really.” She held his stare, and for the first time, he actually believed her. She didn’t look broken or fragile. She looked… fine. Better than fine.
He smiled. “I can see that.” There was a warmth he felt with Kyra… but not like with Lydia. She had practically grown up alongside Ronnie as part of the family. And he’d kick anyone’s ass who dared to treat her badly. “Can I get another one of those cookies when I finish this?”
Her face split into another grin. “How about I wrap a few up for you to take to New York?”
*
Cam must have left Lydia eight messages in the course of the hour. It didn’t take much begging for his mom to watch Maddie. And after the five-hour drive, he was rushing to Noah’s studio building. With all of Noah’s resources, he had to know a way to find her. If she would just answer her damn phone, he wouldn’t have to jump through all these hoops.
Noah met him outside near the parking garage. His designer pants were covered in what looked like vintage stamps. Cam swallowed a chuckle. “Nice outfit.”
“Hey asshole, did you come here to mock me or find Lydia?”
Cam’s grin dropped. “You sure you’re okay with this?”
“I meant what I said. I want you to be happy. And if that letter you read to me is true… then it really wasn’t her article.”
Cam handed him the envelope from Lydia. “Here’s the article she really wrote about you. It paints you in a better light than anything I would have written,” Cam joked. “She even has the name of the ghost writer responsible.”
Noah tucked the envelope into his back pocket and jerked a head toward the office door. Cam looked up at the tall building; the same one he had rushed to get Noah to seven months earlier. Attached at the base, was the same coffee shop where he had met Lydia. “Come on,” Noah said. “These researchers on my show are amazing. If anyone can find a way to contact her, it’s them.”
Noah held the door for him and pulled out his ID card. Dozens of people milled about the lobby and more cameras went off as the reporters saw Noah enter. As they walked next to the cafe, Cam stared into the window. He never dreamed he’d find himself back there. The same place he first saw Lydia. The place it all began. He stopped short, someone behind him nearly knocking into his shoulder. Noah called from up ahead, but his brother sounded miles away. There, in the corner of their coffee shop, was Lydia sitting with Mistress Vine, sipping a cup of coffee.
‡
Chapter Thirty-Five
“When did you know this was who you were truly meant to be? Was there a specific moment of clarity?”
The café bustled and Lydia tried her best to focus despite the meaningful location. Mistress Vine had chosen the location based on her new reality show that was filming in the upstairs soundstage. Lydia sipped her soy latte and eyed the case of blueberry muffins. The sugar coating and dark royal blue berries glistened in the warm cafe lights. Maddie would have loved one of those.
She shook the thought away, forcing her attention back to the interview. She had to make this profile epic. It was her only shot at getting in with a reputable publication and not ending up at another tabloid.
“I always knew I was different, but it wasn’t until college that I truly understood what I had to change about myself.” The media darling’s soft voice rasped in a sexy way, and her smile could warm a room. Lydia snapped a picture as Mistress Vine sipped her green tea. “You know—I almost didn’t do this interview.”
Well, that got Lydia’s attention. She curved an eyebrow upward, lowering her camera to the table. “Can I ask why?”
Mistress Vine cupped her steaming tea and blew against the top. “I was so certain that the Star was going to write some terrible story about that sweet little girl Maddie. I was waiting to read your article before meeting with you.” Her lavender eyes sparkled with the stunning smile.
Lydia exhaled. “Well, I’m glad I proved you wrong.”
“Me, too, sweetie.” Her gaze drifted over Lydia’s shoulder to the side door; the one that filtered out into the crowded lobby. She shifted her eyes back, her eyebrows wobbly. “Did you tell anyone we would be here?”
“No.”
Mistress Vine inclined her nose to the door. “Isn’t that the guy from last weekend? The dad?”
“Cam?” Lydia turned around and her stomach dropped. Oh God, it was Cam. She huffed back around… maybe he hadn’t spotted her. She’d been so nervous that Noah would walk in… she hadn’t dreamt that Cam would be there.
“Lydia!”
So much for that thought. As he stalked toward her, her pulse quickened. She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Oh, hi, Cam.” From the other side of the window, Noah looked in, giving her a small smile and nod before turning to head to the elevators. What the hell was going on?
“Oh, hi?” He shook his head and grabbed an empty chair, sliding it across the tiled floor with a heinous screech. “Lydia, I need to talk to you…”
A shiver raised goose bumps on Lydia’s arms. She brushed them away with the palm of her hands. Him rushing to her… it was exactly what she wanted, but God did he have bad timing. “Yeah, now’s not so good. You remember Mistress Vine, right?”
He didn’t even turn his head. “Please, Lydia. We need to talk.”
“Yeah, we needed to talk last week before you left me alone in the shower.” Damn. “I’m so sorry, Mistress Vine…”
She raised a hand, the tiniest smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Say no more. I need to call my agent anyway. Be back in a few.”
Lydia watched her walk away before spinning back to Cam. He was so close, their noses bumped. “What are you doing here? You made it pretty clear at the auction—”
“Lydia, just shut up and listen for once.”
“Shut up? Shut up? Is that how you talk to women, Cam?”
Capturing You (Maple Grove Romance Book 1) Page 24