Talk of the Town

by Sherrill Bodine

  But Rebecca had learned to hide her feelings. Watching him shrug into his leather jacket, she fought her confusion and desire to reach out to him.

  David, his face strong, stern, and sad all in the same moment, stopped only inches away to gaze down at her.

  “I want to tell you about my late wife, Ellen.”

  Rebecca’s heart missed a beat. Please don’t say I remind you of her.

  “When she became ill and was dying, we were all devastated. It destroyed the foundation of our lives. I had to reinvent myself as a father and as a man. Ellen tried to make me understand that we all needed to move on and be happy, but I couldn’t. I vowed to never love in that way again. Regardless of what we decide to do about what happened between us last night, I intend to honor that promise.”

  His eyes blazed with such sincerity she was speechless. That a man like David would make such a promise and, even more important, he’d tell her about it, loomed so large and compelling in her view of him, she needed to rewrite the script. This man deserved more than grace and humor. He deserved as much honesty as her self- preservation would allow.

  “I understand what you’re telling me, David. I have no expectations. I appreciate and respect your decision to tell me your feelings.”

  But if you don’t leave, I’m going to embarrass us both by bursting into loud, messy tears from all the conflicting emotions bottled up inside me.

  She willed him not to touch her. As it was, she barely contained her composure until she shut the door behind him. Then she collapsed in a heap, her heart pounding and her emotions flowing out of her eyes. For someone who prided herself on always remaining in control, she was suffering a serious malfunction.

  Of course, she rationalized it. David had turned her life upside down, stolen her identity by firing her from a job that she believed defined her. So, naturally, he had a profound effect on her. How she’d chosen to respond to him last night didn’t bear close scrutiny. And if she thought too much about the sadness she saw on David’s face when he talked about losing his wife, Rebecca would never stop crying.

  Rebecca finally arrived at the Daily Mail office an hour late due to the fact she had to redo her thirty minutes of natural beauty because of crying over David, or for David, or for herself. Her emotions were all over the map. How could this be perimenopause when she felt like an overripe, lustful teenager panting for the school’s hottest hottie? At least here in her daily haunt she retained enough self-control to try to figure out how to get her life back on track.

  Or so she thought, before she saw Pauline’s chalk-white face, each freckle standing out in relief.

  “Sweetheart, please don’t tell me you’re still worried about me!” She gave Pauline a quick, tight hug. “Look, I’m happy! No need to worry.”

  “Mr. Sumner came back early.”

  “Yes. I know.” Rebecca smiled, still feeling incredibly warm and tingling all over.

  Pauline’s green eyes widened. “You’ve seen him already this morning? Is that why you’re glowing?”

  Rebecca tried to come up with a plausible, as-close-to-the-truth-as-possible explanation, like her skin looked dewy because she was wearing a new moisturizer.

  Pauline gasped and sat down hard in her chair. “Oh, I can tell from your face that you and Mr. Sumner . . .” She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Then I can’t ask you to help me.”

  “Of course I’ll help you. With anything.” Totally confused now, Rebecca started fanning Pauline’s flushed face with her purse. “But you must tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Shannon came back early today, and she and Maybella had breakfast together at Starbucks. When they came in an hour ago . . .” Pauline stopped and shut her eyes. “They told me they’d been reliably informed Mr. Sumner is replacing me with an automated phone system.” She opened her eyes and two tears squeezed out.

  Heavy, painful dread took root in Rebecca’s chest. “I don’t believe it.”

  “If they can . . . fire you,” she dropped her voice, like she always did when discussing Rebecca’s predicament, “then they can sure do the same to me.” Pauline’s tears flowed in earnest now, and Rebecca let her cry it out, handing her pink Kleenex from the box on the desk. “I love this job. Plus the benefits are . . . great. I even have dental insurance for the girls. They’re going . . . to need braces.”

  Patting her back, Rebecca made soothing noises. “Please don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  “How? I can’t go through my usual channels.” Pauline glanced meaningfully at the switchboard. “It might add fuel to the fire. I thought you could find out for me . . . but . . . it might be too awkward now . . . if . . . you know.”

  The truth struck Rebecca like a bone-breaking blow to her already fractured emotions. She heard herself declaring she’d do anything to get her job back and cringed with remorse. It would be awkward now. Before last night she would have marched into David’s office and demanded the truth. Now it would appear too calculated, like she expected more than he was willing to give.

  Payment for services rendered.

  Regardless of how Rebecca felt, Pauline’s hopeful expression could not be denied. “Of course, I’ll talk to him this very minute.” Rebecca blew her a kiss and went directly to the executive hallway before she thought better of it.

  As always, Maybella looked up when she heard Rebecca’s heels striking the floor. Since she was practically running, she was noisier than usual.

  “Can I help you?” Maybella asked with her usual smirk.

  Today Rebecca didn’t bother to smirk back. “I need to see David.” Ignoring Maybella’s indignant yelp, Rebecca walked past her toward David’s office.

  Early that morning David had wandered through the Daily Mail offices. Surrounded by the trappings of his growing media empire, he felt totally in command. Not like last night.

  Christ, he needed to stop thinking about it. He hated weaklings who vacillated, refusing to chart a course. He’d been honest with Rebecca. Laid the truth on the line for her. Too much pain had gone into his decisions about the future to change anything now. It would go against the personal code he lived by.

  Even if last night was the first time in five years he’d fallen asleep thinking about another woman.

  Guilt ate into his gut. All right, so he wasn’t quite back to normal. None of the casual affairs he’d enjoyed the last few years had fazed him. Yet one night with Rebecca and he was thinking she might be worth the risk of being hurt again.

  He pulled himself up, tall and proud. He wouldn’t give in to these feelings. He’d keep it light with Rebecca, like he had with the others in the past. Except this time he’d concede the rule of mixing business and pleasure.

  In the sports department, he strolled toward Joe Richards’ desk, and the three reporters who had been huddled there scurried away.

  “What kind of betting pool do you have going this time?” David asked, smiling. “Can I get in?”

  Grinning, Joe turned his Cubs cap around backward. “Hell, no, David. Conflict of interest. The bet is on how long it takes Becca to get back her gossip column from you. She always gets what she wants.”

  It honest to Christ felt as if his heart shifted against his ribs, causing a dull ache to pulse through him. Looking down at Joe, he narrowed his eyes. “What are the odds?”

  “Five to one in favor of Becca.” Joe laughed. “But hell, when she finds out about it she’ll lay us all out in lavender. Sweet gal until you make her mad. Then look out.”

  Remembering last night, he smiled, the pain in his chest receding. “Thanks for the warning.”

  Forcing his mind to run through the possibility that she’d slept with him to get her job back, he headed to his office.

  The sun came out from behind a bank of clouds and streamed into the room. The searing light seemed to pierce his brain, helping him to decide that he had known women the last few years who had had agendas where he was concerned, but he didn’t beli
eve Rebecca was one of them.

  He heard her voice and looked up, to watch her walk into the room. Her eyes blazed with determination and her chin was tilted up in defiance. Maybella followed quickly behind.

  He remembered how soft Rebecca’s skin had felt along her heart-shaped face. Desire rose through every cell in his body.

  Now that he knew exactly what he wanted to do he felt warm, eager, and ready to take action. He moved toward her. “Thank you for being so prompt for our meeting, Rebecca. Please close the door on your way out, Maybella.”

  Stunned by how David’s face had changed when she walked in, Rebecca glanced around to see a disgusted glaze in Maybella’s eyes. The way she shut the door with a little slam sealed the fact she hadn’t missed a thing.

  David reached for her and she met him halfway. He kissed her with all the lustful warmth she thought she’d never allow herself to have again. Relinquishing control yet again, she tangled her fingers in his thick, wonderful hair and kissed him back with just as much gusto.

  They both came up for air, and he pressed a kiss on the top of her head. “I’ve been thinking about what you said this morning.”

  “Said? This morning?” She forced herself to step back from him, hoping it would clear her mind so she could control where this was going. But he still held her hands and gazed down at her with his combination of playful sexiness, which she found dangerously irresistible.

  “About last night only being about the twins’ celebration. Not the real world. I’ve decided the twins deserve to be celebrated in the real world for as long as you and I are both enjoying it. I want to continue to see you.”

  Her feelings careening between joy, excitement, disbelief, and, most powerful, fear of being hurt, she fell back on her Midwest common sense. “Considering you’re my boss the new owner who ripped my power base out from under me, I’m not sure we have any foundation for a sustainable enjoyable relationship.”

  His grip tightened on her hands. “Replacing you with Shannon was a business decision. Not a personal one. We didn’t have any difficulties last night or just now.”

  His slow, sensual smile had been her undoing from the beginning. “No, but—”

  “Rebecca,” he interrupted in a firmer voice. “We are two mature, intelligent adults who find each other invigorating and challenging. We can be discreet.”

  Although she was rapidly turning to the dark side, wanting things not good for her, she took one last stab at reason. “I’m a firm believer in discretion. But believe me, people will find out and they will talk. I’m sure Maybella thinks we’re doing the dirty deed on your desk.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the broad, heavy mahogany surface and back to her with such a hot gleam in his eyes, Rebecca wondered if the door had a lock.

  “I’m game if you are,” he said with a laugh.

  “David!” More excited than shocked, she thought it best for both their reputations to pull her hands free and clasp them demurely in front of her. “Seriously, we should give this a lot of thought before we . . .” My God, what are we doing? “. . . continue,” she finished lamely.

  “I have given it a great deal of thought, Rebecca.”

  She felt compelled to set him straight. “David, a great deal of thought is not the two and one-half hours since you left my condo.”

  “I dreamed about it last night, and I haven’t been able to think about anything else for the last . . .” He glanced at his gold Rolex. “Two hours and forty-five minutes. We need to settle this. I have an empire to run.” He said it in jest, but his eyes demanded a response.

  She knew women who slept with their bosses to move up the success ladder, but she didn’t plan to become one of them. She fully intended to convince David to give back her job because of her talent as a columnist, her expert people skills, her knowledge of what made good copy in Chicago. Not her eager, dare she admit, creative lovemaking. Yet a part of her so very much wanted to follow where David was leading. If she continued to sleep with him, she couldn’t try to get back her job. End of story. She couldn’t have her cake and eat it, too. Which do I want more?

  The answer seared itself into her heart and mind, but she cooled it with fear and icy self-preservation. “Let’s see what happens,” she demurred, needing more time to figure it out.

  “Good. That’s settled.” He sighed as if he’d been as tense as she still felt. “I’ll be back and forth between the paper and the TV station for the next week. I’ll stay in touch. Discreetly.”

  Completely off balance, she stepped back. “Wait, David, I . . .”

  “I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “You came in here to talk to me about something else.”

  I can’t now. I really can’t. Pauline’s scared face flashed in front of her eyes. “Are you replacing Pauline with an automated phone system?” Rebecca blurted out and then, for her self-respect, tried to soften it. “I’m not here to try to convince you one way or another. But I need to know the truth.” She braced herself for his steely, narrowed-eyed look, but mercifully it didn’t appear.

  He looked slightly perplexed. “When I did my initial blueprint for the restructuring of the paper, I investigated making such a change. But I vetoed it at least a month ago.”

  Relief made her feel giddy. Before she threw herself at him, smothering him in grateful kisses that might lead to heaven knew what form of delightful debauchery, she backed to the door. When she could lean against the strong wood, she felt slightly more in control. “Well, that’s great. I guess I’ll be . . . seeing you soon.”

  “A great deal of me, I hope.”

  His grin was the last thing she saw before she shut the door behind her.

  Tingling from her toes crammed into her Manolos to the top of her head, which was still warm from David’s kiss, Rebecca turned to meet Maybella’s judgmental glare and tried to appear businesslike. She resisted the urge to tell Maybella what she thought of the cruel lie she’d foisted on Pauline. Instead, she strolled down the hall as normally as possible.

  But she couldn’t let Shannon off the hook so easily.

  She paused in the open door to her old office. Maybe Maybella had sent out the alert that Rebecca was on the way, because Shannon was waiting, sitting casually in her new chair.

  Leaning against the doorframe, Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest and stared straight into Shannon’s wide, pale blue eyes.

  “I’m not one to backstab, so I’m telling you straight out, Shannon. Beat me up as much as you want. But don’t ever make my friends pay for whatever this vendetta against me is all about.”

  Shannon tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Think about it, Shannon. Long and hard. Don’t make the mistake of believing I’m weak because I’ve tried to behave well, even after your nasty trick.”

  For some reason Shannon looked very young and even the tiniest bit vulnerable, stroking the sides of the small aquarium where five little goldfish swam happily. Maybe there was something here to salvage, after all. Rebecca sighed. “Why don’t you just tell me what your personal problem with me is all about so we can work through it? I know there’s more to this vendetta than just ambition on your part.”

  Shannon’s thin lips curled. “How typical of the legendary Rebecca Covington to think it’s all about her. You might find this hard to believe, but most of us have more important items on our agenda than what happens to you.”

  So much for helping Shannon into the community of women like Kate suggested.

  From Shannon’s set face, Rebecca conceded it was a waste of time trying to get the truth out of her.

  “Here you are, Rebecca.” Tim’s cheerful voice broke the heated silence. Shannon’s face shifted into a welcoming smile, and Rebecca glanced up at Tim with little interest.

  “I’ve been looking for you with great news. Kate is thrilled, and I know you will be, too.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Since I moved you to the Home and Food section
, their ad revenues have increased forty percent.” He winked. “I wouldn’t be surprised if David gives you a bonus.”

  I think I already got it. She blushed at her own racy thoughts.

  “We did it, Rebecca. We revolutionized Home and Food.” Tim seemed to have completely forgotten the real reason for the change.

  She hadn’t. “You’re a genius, Tim.”

  Nodding, he walked into his office.

  Before she turned away, Rebecca glanced back at Shannon, who returned the look with pure loathing.

  There was no getting around it. While trying to stop her life from spiraling out of control because of David, she also needed to uncover why Shannon hated her before she struck again.

  Kate was waiting in the small brown leather chair in Rebecca’s office. “Did Tim find you to tell you the good news?”

  “Yes. I told him he’s a genius.” Rebecca didn’t like what she saw on Kate’s face. Lack of sleep showed in new lines around Kate’s eyes and in the slump of her usually square shoulders. “Forget Tim. What’s wrong with you? You look terrible.”

  “I’m tired.” Kate raked her fingers through her hair, but it appeared too weak to spike up. “I’m going home to work for the rest of the day.”

  “Don’t work. Sleep. What can I do to help you?”

  “I can’t sleep, and there’s nothing you can do. The deadline to give David my answer about the finance column is Monday.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of telling you what to do,” Rebecca said carefully, wishing she knew if Kate’s fatigue had anything to do with depression. “But if the thought of writing the finance column is making you sick, maybe you should decline David’s offer.”

  Kate sighed so deep she shuddered. “David isn’t the problem. The problem is I want to write the finance column even though I know the pressure might not be good for me.”

  Having just had a similar conversation with herself about wanting what wasn’t good for her, Rebecca empathized with Kate. “Darling, I know exactly how you feel. Do you want to go shopping this weekend? I do my best thinking when I’m helping the retail economy. Or dinner? You know feed stress is my motto.”