“I got one forty-three. You got one ten.”
He reached over her arm and found his row, following each box with the tip of his finger. “Maybe I should double check your math. Seems you were having trouble adding before.” The corners of his lips struggled to stay serious.
“Thanks to you.” She placed her hands over his and trapped them with her palms. “Duckpin bowling rule number one…trust the scorekeeper.”
Their hands remained snuggled together in a heap on the tabletop. The atmosphere shifted, but she still couldn’t shake the idea Duncan had asked for her to have faith in him and she’d gone elsewhere.
“Well, Ms. Shaw, do you plan to distract me this way when you interview me tomorrow night for Northbridge in Focus?”
His thumb stroked the top of her hand. Talk about distracting. “Nope. I play fair. Since you brought up the interview, could I ask an awkward question?”
“Okay. Shoot.”
“Have you considered who on your staff might have talked to the press about Bernadette?”
“Yes.”
“Did your brother make the list?”
The grooves in his forehead crumpled. “Yesterday I talked to Trent about the story from the Courant. So, yes. He made my list. He also denied being involved, and I believe him.”
“Any other ideas?”
“I wish I knew.” He paused and stopped caressing her hand. “I think you should know something. I hope you won’t share what I’m about to tell you.”
Sophie’s inner Benedict Arnold tried to ignore the faith he showed in her. “I won’t say a word.”
Duncan drew in a deep breath. “Trent’s adopted.”
“So?”
His hands slipped off hers and he fiddled with the black leather band of his watch. “His birth father is from Northbridge.”
“Oh. I had no idea. Mind if I ask who?”
He studied her with great consideration before answering. “Elmer Tate. It’s the reason we’re interested in the property.”
Sophie digested the relationship. “Wait. Elmer doesn’t have any other children. So Trent’s kind of the heir to the Tates’ land?”
Duncan slowly nodded while her mind raced with a dizzying array of questions. She grabbed the first one making any sense.
“Who’s Trent’s mother?”
“Nobody you’d know.” He glanced away for a quick second.
He was hiding something, but she kept quiet, still overwhelmed by the news about Elmer. He’d lived here his whole life. Not that she was privy to all his business, but she never pictured him leaving town and meeting a woman. He and Otis belonged to the local VFW hall, so perhaps in the military he’d met someone.
“If he wanted his real son to have the land, why’d they put it up for sale? Why let me get my hopes up?”
“The men disagreed. Elmer wanted an owner from inside the lake community, but Otis didn’t care who they sold the place to.” He stopped playing with his watch. “In fact, we didn’t realize there was another bidder until we had already shown an interest in the land.”
She now hated Otis more than ever. “I knew Otis was behind this. Did he contact you?”
He hesitated for a moment. “Not me, my mother. She saw this as an opportunity for Trent.” Duncan averted his gaze down the alley. “He’s got a history of problems. Drug related ones. He’s been substance free for a few years, but she thought a little piece of his past might give him some incentive to stay sober. He once outright told me being in our family made him feel like a charity case.”
Trent’s off-putting demeanor reminded her how life’s circumstances played a huge role in our adult behavior. “What about Buzz? Why’d he get involved?”
“When Trent came up with the idea for the resort, it changed everything. Otis called us two days later and said Buzz was behind the project.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You know the rest.”
She factored in her reasons for wanting the property.
He took her hand and squeezed. “I can see how much the land means to you, but I had reasons too. Not only about my firm and profit.” He blew out a huge breath. “It’s such a relief telling you this. I’ve been so conflicted, like I’ve been lying to you.”
Lying? Sophie’s emotions tangled in a nasty web. Duncan felt so right, something she didn’t want to lose. Now, though, the lines of idealism she’d lived by for years, so orderly and clear, were blurred.
“You’re not a liar,” she spoke softly. “You’re trying to do a good thing for your brother.”
Sophie stared up into her own mountain of lies: the call to Marcus, the anonymous note about the Jamiesons, even keeping Henry’s death a secret.
“Hey.” He tipped up her chin with a finger. “Something wrong? I heard your family used to own the land. Sounds like you all have many reasons to want the land. I still feel so bad about barging in and taking it away—”
“Nothing’s wrong. Let’s forget about my past.”
Duncan’s kindness for his brother struck the soft spot in her heart. He’d handed her a huge piece of himself today.
The pack of lies she’d stored now made their way to the tip of her tongue. “I think it’s time I—”
The continued caress of his thumb left a fluttering in her stomach and made her reconsider the outcome of dumping this pile of truth. The truth about Henry would put him in an awkward position, having to decide whose past mattered more to him—Trent’s or Sophie’s.
She reached out and smoothed a hand over his bristly cheek. “I want you to know you’ve officially earned my trust.”
His whole face softened then he leaned in and softly kissed her lips. He paused and searched her face for approval.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered.
His mouth covered hers, coaxed her lips apart. Warm breath mingled with hers then he cupped her cheeks, pulled her closer, and deepened the kiss. A kiss she didn’t want to end, however, she slowly pulled away knowing the kids bowled nearby.
Duncan smoothed his palm slowly along her shoulder and stared into her eyes with heavy lids, the desire in his gaze making her burn for more. The tender touch of his lips still imprinted on hers served as a reminder to call Marcus and call off the hunt on Trent. Duncan had put his trust in her, trust she didn’t deserve.
The time had also come to remove herself from both tomorrow’s interview on Northbridge in Focus and her role on the paper. No story was worth ruining what she’d just found.
Chapter 22
Duncan’s car slowed in the rush hour traffic and he admired the winter sun setting in the west, leaving a pattern of salmon-colored clouds against a darkening sky. Even the beautiful scene didn’t remove the edge he’d carried all day. His appearance tonight on Northbridge in Focus, on behalf of a project he no longer believed in, was a charade.
How had his well-intentioned act for Mom and Trent taken a wrong turn?
Sophie’s interest in the land turned him upside down and inside out. Either path he took, he’d wind up seeing himself as disloyal as Judas. Who mattered more, the woman whose kiss pounded his heart and soul into tender meat or his brother? Loyalty ripped down his center.
After he left the bowling alley, he’d tried to remember if he’d experienced the same euphoria when he first began to date Elizabeth.
Their first meeting, in a small town near Florence, Italy, seemed like a lifetime ago. There to check out a site, he’d headed out alone for dinner. He’d stumbled upon a place for locals, the type of place he usually gravitated to, but had some trouble ordering with a waiter who spoke only Italian. As he’d struggled with his small pocket translator book, a woman at a nearby table interrupted.
“Mi scusi. Egli vuole lo spezzatino di cinghiale con Pappardelle. Grazie.” The waiter had nodded and left. She’d turned to Duncan and said in perfect, non-accented English, “It sounded like you wanted the wild boar stew with Pappardelle. Good choice. An area specialty.”
He’d joined their small group and met Elizabeth Cole, his unofficial translator She’d moved to Tuscany from New York City two years earlier to work as a buyer for a family friend who owned an import business. In the scheme of small-world stories, she’d grown up in Scarsdale, not far from Duncan’s hometown of Bronxville, both towns on the high end of expensive Westchester County communities. Their interests had been similar, their families had money, and in the States their lifestyles had paralleled.
Upon her return to the States a year later, they’d dated. He’d enjoyed her beauty, charm, and stories of travel, not exactly love at first sight but she’d fit into his world. Many of his friends had married. He’d pondered the idea of settling down, considering the timing with Elizabeth just right.
Elizabeth’s arrival in the Jamieson household had brought his father to life. The old man’s pride tugged at the seams with the notion Duncan had brought forth a serious daughter-in-law prospect, one whose family name provided a fitting pair next to theirs. Duncan’s refusal to become a lawyer had changed their relationship years earlier, so regaining his father’s accolades brought some unexpected relief. After Duncan made a hasty marriage proposal to Elizabeth, Dad’s approval had completely returned.
Eventually his feelings for Elizabeth were laced with something he’d believed to be love. He’d never admit to anybody she hadn’t received his full heart, though.
Yesterday proved one thing. A deeper force propelled his desire for Sophie. A force which enticed and terrified him at the same time.
* * * *
Sophie scurried through the dimly lit parking lot to the back entrance of the local cable station. The stiletto-heeled boots Bernadette had convinced her to buy made walking in a lot camouflaged in patches of ice like crossing a minefield.
Northbridge in Focus always began at seven thirty sharp. She was running behind schedule for the pre-meeting.
Before they could even leave the bowling alley yesterday, she’d realized there was no easy way to dump her role on the show or paper without causing great suspicion about what she’d been doing. She’d asked Duncan if they could keep their relationship private, at least until the zoning board made a final decision on the matter, mainly due to work. He’d understood. The other reason, one she couldn’t tell him, were her concerns about her brother’s reaction to them dating. He hated Duncan. She’d ease Jay into the idea.
The chime of her cell announced a text message. She ignored the sound and entered the brick building where all local cable access shows around the lake were filmed.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“No problem.” Ken’s easy grin always relaxed her. “There’s some pizza over there. I’ve arranged the seating on stage already.”
She glanced at the makeshift stage, a foot-high elevated platform serving as the show’s set. Not nearly as elaborate as Good Morning America, but the place suited their needs. The beige curtain backdrop and a few large potted ficus trees weren’t much, but they didn’t have a big budget.
She sat at a small conference table across from Alex Fitch, her co-host, and lifted the pizza box lid. The aroma of every pizzeria she’d ever visited escaped. “I’m starving. I gave the kids leftovers and ran out without eating.”
“Let’s work and eat.” Alex poked his fork into a salad and grilled chicken.
A huge kid, health issues had forced him to address his weight problem. There were days now she still thought he seemed too thin.
He slid a paper in front of her. “I combined the questions you e-mailed with my own.”
Sophie plunked her large canvas bag on the tabletop and fished for her cell phone. The text sent a few minutes ago had been from Marcus. She’d called last night and told him to cancel the hunt on Trent Jamieson but only got his voice mail. The text read, Got your message. Need 2 talk. Call me. She threw the phone back in her bag and hung up her coat.
On her way back to the table, she studied Alex, who wore his standard TV garb: camel-colored slacks, white oxford shirt, and tweed jacket, all of which suited his short hair and neat part on the side. At their first show, three years ago, Alex had arrived at the studio in black slacks and a black button-down shirt. Sophie could still recall the dismayed sarcasm of Ken’s voice when he asked Alex if the other ninjas would arrive soon.
Tonight she’d selected a gray herringbone skirt and a plum, ribbed turtleneck since the outfit matched the Scottish thistle necklace she’d wanted to wear this evening.
Nana had given her the piece of jewelry, one she’d received from Sophie’s granddad when they first married. While they’d packed to move Nana to the nursing home, she sat Sophie down on the bed and pressed the round, brushed silver pendant dangling from a chain into her hand. “It’s a thistle pendent, Sophie.” Nana’s thick brogue always sounded soft and familiar to Sophie’s ears. “The Scottish symbol for bravery, courage, and loyalty.” She could still hear the way Nana rolled her r’s.
Interviewing Duncan tonight wouldn’t be easy, so she wore the necklace for luck. Her role as host crashed head on with his kiss yesterday, as well as the future kisses she expected to get during their Saturday night date at a restaurant in Hartford, far from Northbridge. She reached down and lifted the special jewelry. A purple stone in the center sparkled from the overhead lights. Around the gem were protruding swirled pointed ends, a decorative representation of the thistle, a thorny flower which some might think a weed. Nana’s words again gave her a boost of encouragement…bravery, courage, and loyalty.
She could handle this interview. His unforgettable kiss stayed fresh on her lips yet wouldn’t interfere with her professionalism.
For a half hour, the three of them poured over questions, fine-tuned their notes, and decided who’d ask what. The back entrance door creaked open and Bart’s loud voice echoed down the hallway, a conversation with someone about his new camera lens purchase.
He entered the room. “Guess who I found.” Marcus stood at his side.
After a chorus of hellos, Sophie said, “Just got your text. I planned to call you later.”
“The paper sent me one town over to cover a story.” He yanked off a tight wool cap and his short black hair jumped up from static electricity. “I hoped to catch you before the show aired. This can’t wait.”
A rock hard pit developed in Sophie’s stomach.
Marcus cut a glance between Ken and Alex. “I figured you guys would be interested in this too.” He dropped his canvas satchel on the table. “Sophie and I have been working together on some RGI research.” He dug through his messy bag then stopped and looked at her. “What I found this afternoon confirms your gut read on Trent.”
The pit grew in size. Duncan trusted his brother. Had Marcus uncovered evidence to the contrary?
Marcus glanced at her as he removed a piece of paper. “Remember how you said rumors always start for a reason?”
She nodded, calm on the exterior, but inside the winds of conflict rushed at hurricane force. What had she done?
“Check this out.” He handed her the paper.
As the others waited in silence, she read the contents and passed the information to Ken, resisting the urge to crinkle the paper into a ball and toss it in the trash. Marcus shifted his feet. There was no mistaking his excitement. A short, heated discussion ensued over whether they should drop this bomb tonight. Marcus and Ken voted yes, but Alex and Sophie wanted more research on the find. The arrival of the first guest put an end to the conversation. Ken’s final word on the matter was, “Let’s do it.” The walls around Sophie shrunk, leaving her as cornered as a mouse trapped in a shoebox.
Twenty minutes flew by. Every guest had arrived except Duncan. Ten minutes before show time, he entered the studio. He seemed more frazzled than usual.
Ken rushed to greet him, anxious over his late arrival. The other gues
ts, Adli, Bernadette, and Tony Renzo, a member of the Goshen, Massachusetts Zoning Board, stood in a huddle chatting.
Ken cornered Duncan. She waited for an opening to nab him alone, where she might at least try to give him a heads-up about their coming on-air ambush. Her real problem suddenly smacked her in the face. The minute she told him, he’d also learn she had been the one to pull the starter rope on the research about Trent.
Normally, a curveball like this would be tossed at a guest with the pride of the Yankees. Not this time. No other guest had wrapped his large hands around hers, touched her with his tender lips, or confided intimate details about his family. Professional right versus wrong yanked her from side to side
Ken talked and Duncan glanced her way. She moved her head in the universal “come here” tip. He refocused on Ken. The next time Duncan’s eyes shifted toward her, she mouthed, “We need to talk.” The corner of his lip flickered and a subtle softening of his gaze suggested they shared a secret, which they did, but he again ignored her.
Bernadette sidled close and whispered near Sophie’s ear, “What’s up with you two?”
She nearly jumped “Jeesh, weren’t you just with Adli? I think you move at vampire speed.”
Bernadette chuckled. “I have no idea what you mean, but I once again thank you for taking my daughter when you and Tia went to see Twilight.” She cocked her head and gave Sophie a don’t-try-to-pull-a-fast-one-on-me pose. “Well? What’s going on?”
“You mean with Duncan?”
Both Bernadette’s newly waxed brows rose. “Uh-huh.”
“I need to talk to him before the show starts. That’s all.”
“Talk? The way he’s been ogling you, talking seems to be the last thing on his mind.”
Sophie sighed.
Bernadette tapped Sophie’s toe with hers. “Nice boots.”
“What can I say? There are days your footwear inspires me. Any suggestions on how to walk fast in these? Or run.”
“Yeah. Don’t.” She returned to her posturing. “Sooo? What’s really going on?”
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