Heart to Heart

by Meline Nadeau

  He pulled his gaze away from said curves and met her icy stare. She was right. He had said those things, and he had to admit the column was well-written. “That’s not the point. Your editorial represents our opinion, Leigh. Not just yours, but mine, James’s, Sue’s — everybody’s.”

  “David, I’m the publisher. And ultimately, my opinion is our opinion.” She leaned in to look at the layout. Dangerously close. His body heat turned up, and it wasn’t out of anger. She had to know how she affected him.

  “You talk about this John Blackbear like he’s some kind of god.”

  “Not a god. A medicine man.”

  “Whatever.”

  “He’s a Native American spiritual leader, David.”

  “I don’t care if he can start fires with a glance. You can’t write columns with this kind of bias. God, where did you get these quotes?” He looked down and picked one at random. “‘The Red Nation shall rise again and it shall be a blessing for a sick world. A world filled with broken promises, selfishness, and separations. A world longing for light again.’”

  She leaned in over his shoulder and desire flared up in his groin. His adolescent reaction to the closeness of her body against his aggravated him even more. She pointed to a spot in the article. “It’s right here. Chief Crazy Horse said those words four days before he was assassinated.”

  He rolled his eyes. His father used to quote Chief Crazy Horse. A lot of good that did him. “I thought you said you went to meet with the superintendent. Who else did you talk to?”

  “That sounds more like an accusation than a question. What the hell did you think I did all week?” Her tone softened. “I called the Massachusetts Center for Native American Awareness and interviewed two of their elders.”

  David groaned. “Great. I’m sure they’re a good unbiased source.”

  “John Blackbear is a respected member of their community.”

  “John Blackbear is a convict. Period.”

  “He gives the other Native American inmates hope, David. He teaches them about their roots, their people, and their history.”

  “Right. And he’s such an inspiration, his disciples are killing themselves.”

  “They’re killing themselves out of desperation. C’mon. You know what that place is like.”

  In truth, he didn’t. He’d only been to the Pen once to visit his father and had avoided the place ever since. He tasted the bitterness of shame. He nodded.

  “It’s gray and dank. And in a lot of cases, all those men have is the hope they’ll be happier in the afterlife.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure the Great Spirit has a special place in his heart for those thieves and murderers.”

  A lethal calmness clouded her catlike eyes. “I don’t know what your problem is, but it’s not this column. Read the article again, and come and see me when you’ve come to your senses. I’m going to get a cup of coffee, and when I come back, I want you to be gone from my office.” She turned on her heels and headed out the door only to come back again. “Oh, and David — don’t ever patronize me like that again.” She turned to leave.

  He couldn’t let her walk away that way. “Leigh, stop. Come on. Don’t be like that. I admit I might have overreacted. I guess I was surprised to see your name where your dad’s used to be.”

  “What did you think I was doing all this time? Playing solitaire on my computer?”

  He chuckled hoarsely. “You must have been if it took you all week to write this story. And let’s be honest here. We all know you’re just killing time until you can walk away from this place.” The look on her face told him he’d gone too far.

  Leigh’s mouth curved into a bitter smile, and she looked like she might slap him. “You know, for a while you really had me believing you wanted me to become part of the team.”

  “I do. But not like this.” He tapped on the story’s headline. “I can’t undo this. This story is going cause all kinds of insanity.”

  She paused and locked glances with him. “It’s a good editorial.” The cool edge of her tone hung in the air as she walked out.

  David watched her cross the Bull Pen to her father’s office on the other side of the quad. She marched, head high, into the large waterfront space she’d converted into a common area. She hadn’t wanted to take over her father’s office preferring to turn it into a room everyone could enjoy. The staffers carried on with their jobs trying to look like every single one of them hadn’t been eavesdropping.

  She’d looked genuinely upset. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just let her waltz in and play publisher. It took years to become good. It took experience and passion for the news to be able to evaluate the scope and importance a story should be given — and to put the right spin on it. A holy man in one of Watford’s penitentiaries. Give me a break.

  His father had believed in all that Native American nonsense. And where had it gotten him? In jail, following the advice of guys like John Blackbear.

  So why did he feel so bad? He grabbed the newspaper and started reading Leigh’s copy again.

  Chapter Four

  A week after her run-in with David, Leigh looked up to find Geoffrey standing in her office.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he said, cocking his right eyebrow and tipping his baseball cap. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

  “Waiting for a guy like you to sweep me off my feet and take me away.” Leigh laughed and held her hand out, poised for a kiss.

  “Your wish is my command.” Geoffrey sauntered to her desk and took her outstretched hand. “You and I, my dear, are going out to celebrate.” Geoffrey swung his cap off in an exaggerated curtsy.

  She saw David walk by and stopped laughing. “On second thought … . I’ve got work to do.”

  Geoffrey followed her glance. “Forget him. It’s late, you’ve been working like crazy and I want to take you out.”

  Leigh opened her mouth to protest.

  “Shush.” He silenced her with a wave of his index finger. “Today is your two-week anniversary as The Watford Sun’s Publisher extraordinaire and we are going to celebrate.”

  Two weeks. She could hardly believe it. She’d written a good half-dozen columns since her infamous argument with David. And, he hadn’t said a peep about their content or her opinions since. Their readers, on the other hand, had plenty to say, and Leigh was adamant they print it all, the good and the bad. “You’re right. I deserve a night out.” She turned her computer off with a dramatic click and followed him out.

  “Where you guys off to?” James asked.

  “Yeah, can we come?” Jen said, motioning to herself and Sue.

  “Sorry, kids,” Geoff said. “She’s mine tonight. I don’t want to share her with anybody.”

  They left the building and walked along Old Watford’s waterfront footpath. Leigh looked out at the horizon. She’d forgotten how early the sun set on the New England coast. The sky and the ocean appeared seamless and reflected each other’s deep cobalt tones. In fact, everything, from the piers to the boats anchored nearby, had a surreal bluish glow. Ahead, fancy street lamps dotted their path. They too, seemed to glow a little brighter. It was magic hour. That five-minute spell at dusk when day crossed into night and time seemed to stand still.

  “I love this kind of light,” Leigh said, taking Geoff by the arm.

  “Me too,” he said. “There are no shadows right now. The street lights and the sky burn at the same intensity.”

  Leigh breathed in the cool salty air and leaned into him. “I could get used to this.”

  “Speaking of getting used to stuff — what’s up with you and David? He seems to be getting used to you just fine.”

  “Nice segue.” Leigh rolled her eyes at her gossip-loving friend. “There’s nothing between David and me. We’re barely speaking,” s
he added remembering their less-than-stellar discussion about her first editorial.

  “Oh honey, you don’t need to speak. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.”

  “Pa-lease.” There was no way Geoffrey could know she found David sexy. “It’s nothing like that. He’s so worried I’m going to mess up Dad’s sacred editorial, he watches me like a hawk. Seriously. I think he’s just waiting for me to screw up so he can say I told you so.”

  “Really? Well,” he said, stopping to light a cigarette. “Pam told me that little stunt you pulled got us more mail and more attention than any of the marketing strategies we’ve been trying out.”

  “Little stunt?” Leigh couldn’t believe Geoffrey’s choice of words. She had a feeling she knew exactly who’d coined them. “Is that what he says about my first editorial? Because I didn’t consult him?” Her ironic tone concealed a mix of anger and disappointment. “I wrote a well-researched, thought-provoking column. That’s what I did.”

  “Hello?” He took a big puff and exhaled with a loud sigh. “I also said you got more mail than anybody else. They loved it, Leigh. The readers loved your article. And they’ve been eating up your copy ever since.”

  So they’d gotten more mail than ever before. She smiled, very please with herself. Enough. She didn’t want to talk about the paper or David any more. “Where’re you taking me?”

  “There’s a funky little Thai restaurant with a great view on the harbor.”

  “There’s a funky Thai restaurant in Watford?”

  “Honey, a lot of things have changed since you left this place.”

  “I’ll say.” She thought of the way David’s long lean muscles flexed under his tight T-shirts. He didn’t have those when she’d left. David’s buff body should be the last thing on her mind. She should be thinking of the paper, how to raise its circulation so she could sell it and get back to New York and her promotion.

  Poor David. He’d called her the night before to discuss a new marketing strategy — some lame attempt at an apology — and she’d feigned a headache to get him off the phone. She just didn’t have the strength for another argument. On the plus side, sparring with him was teaching her to trust her instincts and stand up for what she believed in. She was capable of a lot more than just running around from one fashion show to the next.

  Another thing was clear. The way he made her heart beat harder whenever he was near told her she couldn’t settle for going back to her habitual string of lonely nights. Not that she wanted anything to do with the sexy bachelor. Men like him could have any woman they wanted, and he’d tire of her as soon as he got what he was after. Still, every time he was around her stomach filled with butterflies, and she found herself wishing he’d take her in his arms and have his way with her.

  All she’d ever felt around her last boyfriend was the urge to buy him a new wardrobe and to convince him to quit smoking. He’d hated her dedication to her work, the amount of hours she spent out on the town schmoozing, and the amount of traveling she did.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Geoffrey said, as they walked toward the strip of new restaurants and bars whose patio lanterns lit up the waterfront.

  “I was just thinking of New York, work, you know.”

  “Hmmm.” He shuddered with mock repulsion. “That’s right. You love that stuff. The noise, the pollution, wearing black.”

  She laughed at his disgusted look. “I’d like to point out you’re wearing a black shirt this evening, and yes — I love those things.”

  “Do you still work for that Woody Allen look-alike?”

  “He doesn’t look like Woody A — ” The minute she uttered those words, she realized Jack did look a little like he famous neurotic director. “Well, maybe a little.”

  “Yeah. In an older, shabbier sort of way,” he said, hunching his shoulders and putting on a bad Brooklyn accent. “I’d never join a club that would allow a person like me to become a member.” He shuffled over to the Royal Thai’s patio like an old man and waved her over.

  She tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t. She laughed and walked over to the bamboo-covered joint. It looked more like a college hangout than an actual restaurant, but she trusted Geoff’s taste when it came to food. When it came to men? She’d have to wait and see.

  They picked a water view table. Anyone who didn’t know them might have thought they were an item, a couple, and she wondered what went through people’s minds when they’d seen David and her having dinner together.

  “All right. You win. I guess he is a little neurotic. Hell, I’m no walk in the park myself.”

  “I’ll say.”

  She raised her hand before Geoffrey had a chance to tease her any further. “He’s been a great mentor to me. He’s really smart; he’s a great journalist; he’s into theatre, the arts, he even likes opera.”

  “Honey, who you trying to convince? Look at you. You’re gorgeous. You need a hot young stud to throw you down and wipe that prim and proper look right off your face. Not some old guy who treats you like the daughter he never had.”

  She gave him a dirty look. “Did you ever stop to think I might need a father figure?”

  “You have a father.”

  “Had. And he was David’s father figure, not mine.”

  “Speaking of David — now he’s a real man.”

  “What is it with you and him? Why are you doing this to me?”

  Geoffrey silenced her with a wave of his index and ordered two Thai beers from their waiter.

  As soon as their server left, Geoff put his elbows on the table.

  “All right. Where were we? Ah, yes. You were talking about the virtues of hanging out in New York with an old sweater and I was telling you, you need a little less brain and a little more brawn. Now take David.”

  She looked to the heavens. Geoff was on a roll.

  “C’mon Leigh. Admit it. He is pretty hot.”

  “Yes, Geoffrey, he is,” she said, hoping to put an end to the discussion. “He’s also pretty hot-headed.” She had to admit, David could make a pair of tight jeans look even sexier then they did on those guys in the magazines. He had a gorgeous rump, strong legs, and she blushed thinking of what other big strong things lay beneath the denim.

  “Hellooooo. Earth to Leigh. Come in, Leigh.”

  She blinked and focused her glance on Geoffrey. “I’m sorry. My mind wandered.”

  Geoff laughed and winked at her. “I’ll bet.”

  “That’s enough out of you.” She frowned, and bit her lip to stop from laughing. “Actually, I’m glad I’ve got you all to myself tonight.”

  Geoffrey leaned in. “Got some good gossip for me?”

  “Not quite. I’ve been thinking about writing a series of articles on the town’s prisons, and I was wondering if you’d be interested in being the main photog on this.”

  “Sounds promising. Tell me more.”

  “Ever watch City Confidential?”

  “That TV series on small American towns where gruesome murders took place?”

  “Exactly. People love that kind of stuff. The story opens on some lovely small town then all the players are introduced. Nice, normal people with homes, families, and jobs. Then, wham! Someone commits a horrible murder and everyone’s perception of the town changes.”

  Interest creased Geoffrey’s brow. He lit another cigarette. “I’m listening.”

  “Watford has that same sort of gritty underbelly.” As her words flowed, Leigh’s passion and excitement grew. “With its two prisons and large population of inmates, this town has an entire underworld rife with stories. I want to let our readers into that world. I want The Sun to give them the same kind of titillating stories they get on TV.”

  “I’m not sure Watfordians are ready for gritty.” He scratched his head. “How doe
s David feel about this?”

  “I’m not sure he’s ready for gritty, either. The question is, are you? I need to know you’re on board with this before I sell him on the idea.”

  Geoff turned up his smile a notch. “We talking male inmates?”

  Leigh’s mouth twitched with amusement. “Yes.”

  He grinned and extended his hand. “I’m in.”

  She took his hand and grasped it in a warm handshake. “You tart.”

  “You better believe it, honey.” Geoff threw back his head and let out a peal of laugher.

  • • •

  So much for an hour at the gym to get rid of some pent-up sexual frustration. David sighed. Hours later, he could still feel the burn of weeks of celibacy in his groin. It was all her fault. Ever since she’d walked into his life, he couldn’t get the image of those long shapely legs out of his mind. Women shouldn’t be allowed to wear short skirts and stiletto heels to the workplace.

  And she’d been showing leg every day. Every time he turned around there they were. At the most inopportune times, he found himself imagining what it would be like to feel those lovely legs wrapped around his body. Like now. He looked down at his bulging erection with dismay. He seemed unable to get over his lust for her, and to top it all off, he was actually starting to like her.

  Not that he’d let on. They hadn’t really spoken since their run-in about her editorial. He chuckled. He’d been secretly pleased that she hadn’t been afraid of standing up to him. She had some nerve. Thank God the fallout from her column had been positive. Very positive. And after he’d gotten over her disregard for his opinion, he had to admit it was an insightful read. Everyone, from the local mayor to the Massachusetts Commission on Indian Affairs had written in to give their own two cents on the issue. More mail meant more sales and more sales meant the paper had a fighting chance at survival. Improved circulation brought in additional ad revenues, which was the real income for a newspaper. He couldn’t argue with that.