“Did you ever have a dream?” Joe asked.
“Of course I’ve dreamed.” Colin forced a laugh as the older man stared without speaking, an old tactic he’d used on Colin as a teenager. One that to this day never failed to elicit a response. “I’ve dreamed of running the paper.”
“Bullshit.” Joe spoke loud, clear and less slurred than before. The effort obviously cost him, because he leaned back against the white pillow. “You don’t know your dreams and until you stop running, you never will.”
A punch in the stomach would have been more gentle, but then, gentle had never been Joe’s style. Directness had, which was why Corinne’s power of attorney had taken Colin off guard. Joe hadn’t prepared him up front.
Seconds passed in which Joe just met Colin’s gaze and stared, while Colin tried to formulate a response when he had none. Because as usual, the older man was right.
Joe gestured to the water pitcher. Grateful for a minute to think, Colin poured the cold liquid into a disposable cup, waiting for Joe to take a few sips before taking the cup back and placing it on the tray.
“If I’d have asked you to run the paper when I got sick, months before I had the stroke, I’d have been forcing you to come home, for who knows how long. And you need to find your way without my influence.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve always considered you a son. Even when you couldn’t return the sentiment.”
Colin swallowed hard. “I returned it. I just couldn’t show it. I thought I’d be betraying my parents.”
Hard as Joe and Nell tried, Colin realized now they’d never completely filled the parental role, probably because he’d been old enough to maintain love and loyalty. And fear. Fear if he gave himself over to Joe and Nell’s love, he’d lose his parents for good. Never mind that he’d already lost them.
Joe’s laugh sounded more like a rasping wheeze, scaring Colin. “I knew that. Hell, Nell knew it, too. We never held it against you though. That sense of loyalty was what made you such a damn fine man, one I’m proud to call my son.”
Colin shook his head. “I never deserved you.”
“You damn well did. You still do. You think I don’t know you’re here now, fighting to save what’s mine? Only a son would do that for his father.”
Colin closed his eyes but he couldn’t shut out the truth. Joe knew him better than he knew himself. The older man understood things about Colin he himself had just come to recognize and accept. The running, the emotional barriers, all a result of his parents’ deaths, had distanced him from his life and the people in it. But no longer.
It had taken Joe’s stroke to bring him home, Joe’s seeming betrayal to shock him into looking deeper, but it had been Rina who’d taught him the biggest lesson of all in understanding, acceptance—and love.
He shook as the word ran through his mind, and settled there. He loved Rina. Something he’d deal with when he left the hospital.
And he loved the older man lying in the bed before him. “I’m lucky to have you. Always have been,” Colin told Joe. “But why didn’t you just tell me about giving Corinne power of attorney?”
Joe’s brown eyes clouded over. “Fate. Honest to goodness, fate. When I got sick, no way did I want to call you home, and when the doctors insisted I cut back, I put Corinne in charge.”
“She knows nothing about running a paper, Joe.”
“But I love and trust her, just like I do you. Just like I did Nell before her.” He gestured for the water and Colin passed the cup again, waiting while Joe finished soothing his dry throat.
Hearing how Joe felt about his wife made Colin’s mission to enlighten his father about the paper’s problems more difficult. Colin ran a hand over his eyes and groaned.
He didn’t know how to approach the issue, and since he still didn’t have a direct answer to his question, he focused on that first. “Why didn’t you tell me you put Corinne in charge?” he asked again.
“Because it wasn’t something I felt I could do long distance. I knew you’d come home for Christmas, even if it was a short visit. I planned to tell you then. But like I said, fate intervened and I had the damn stroke first.” Joe’s voice returned to a low whisper he had to strain to hear, but there was no mistaking the regret in his voice.
The vise holding Colin’s heart hostage eased with the realization that everything Joe did had been in Colin’s best interest. At the expense of his beloved paper.
Be true to yourself, Rina had said. The time had come. For father and son to work out a solution together. He rose from his seat and began pacing the floor, his gaze never leaving Joe’s bed. “The Times has limited space, and Corinne’s been sacrificing hard news for softer pieces.” He no longer considered Rina’s dreams fluff. Not since seeing how important they were to her and the reaction of people he admired, like Logan and Cat. “We’re not printing true news on the front page. Corinne’s hired a woman named Rina Lowell to write about relationships, while Emma’s doing a matchmaking column for the elderly. Circulation and advertising have suffered,” he said, forcing the words out.
He hated to hurt Joe, and he realized he hated to hurt Corinne, the woman he now understood Joe loved. But the older man didn’t blink at the information.
Colin narrowed his gaze. “You knew this was coming, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “Corinne finally told me she’d made some mistakes.”
An understatement if Colin ever heard one.
“But I wasn’t feeling well even before the stroke, and she didn’t want to tell me,” Joe continued. “She was determined to fix things and make me proud.”
“You don’t sound angry.”
He shrugged. “When you face death, you realize there are more important things in life than selling newspapers.”
Colin scrubbed a hand over his burning eyes. “Well, I’m about to complicate things.” He explained how they’d lost advertising dollars and were poised to lose more. And then he topped off his story with the fact that he’d borrowed money to keep the paper afloat. “And like me, Ron thought you’d want nothing more than to have things return to the status quo. I promised him I’d get rid of the fluff in favor of hard news, and according to Fortune’s, I have until January first to provide proof I can do that or they’re pulling out.”
“And how exactly did you plan to save the paper from my terrible clutches, Colin?” Corinne walked into the room at the worst possible moment.
“By getting your promise to return things to the way they were.” He didn’t turn to face her, but he had to admit the truth. “And by getting rid of your new columnists, to start.” That had always been the plan, replace the new columnists with news worth printing. Only now, discussing his plans aloud, he realized how shortsighted he’d been.
“You wanted to fire Rina and Emma?” Corinne asked, outraged.
He winced, knowing he no longer advocated that scenario, but nodded because that had been his intention. But he now realized that like Joe said, some things were more important than selling papers. His family, Corinne included, was one of them. Rina, another.
It was time to face Corinne and explain his change of heart. He turned, but behind Corinne, he saw Rina in the doorway and his stomach plummeted.
Eyes wide and full of hurt, she met his gaze. His gut clenched hard. Damn. “Rina.”
She turned, pivoting and walking away. He stepped toward the door, then paused, looking back at the man in the bed.
“Don’t you think you should go after her?” Corinne asked.
Colin was torn, but with Joe so ill, he had to take opportunity when he could and mend fences here first. “I’ll talk to her as soon as we finish.” Facing Corinne wasn’t easy. “My perspective has changed, even if the promise I made hasn’t. And I’d like to explain.”
Corinne nodded. “Seems fair.”
“Then both of you sit,” Joe said. “It’s time we started acting like a family.”
Although his heart was with Rina, Colin did as Joe asked. They talked like a fa
mily for the first time. When it was over, Colin knew they had a chance of saving the paper. Corinne agreed not to touch the remainder of the lender’s money on anything without Colin’s approval. With Joe supporting her columns, she was more agreeable to putting the news on the front page.
In return, Colin was willing to invest the rest of the lender’s money in creating a supplement section to the paper that would carry her beloved columns, as well as the syndicated ones Colin had already lined up to return.
All that remained was working the magic he thought of earlier. He had to prove to the conservative Fortune’s Inc. that Rina, Emma and Corinne’s other ideas would increase sales if they weren’t the sole focus of the paper. Ironically, he’d use Corinne’s argument that people’s priorities had changed, and they could sell newspapers by combining news and softer pieces. If a simple phone call wouldn’t do it, Colin would resort to statistical proof, something that would cost money and take time. He hoped he could at least get a deadline extension out of Fortune’s.
By the time he left the hospital, Colin felt more centered about his family situation, but he still had to settle things with Rina. After not returning yesterday, Colin wasn’t about to repeat the same mistake and compound her anger over what she’d overheard. Instead, he showed up in time to suffer through a frosty Christmas dinner. And he wasn’t referring to the weather outside.
Rina barely spoke to him and he couldn’t say he blamed her. He also couldn’t find time to talk to her alone, and since Jake and Brianne planned to stay late, he had no choice but to pick things up at work in the morning. And he wasn’t surprised when Rina didn’t walk him to the door to say good night.
He let himself out, disappointment in his gut and her Christmas gift still in his pocket.
MONDAY MORNING, Rina called in sick. She wasn’t ill. She was merely informed and armed with knowledge. She intended to protect herself and her future. She had no choice since she was about to lose the job she loved. True, eavesdroppers didn’t always hear correctly, but Corinne had been by her side, peppering Colin with questions, and his words had left no doubt. He intended to get rid of Corinne’s columnists. Herself and Emma.
Which meant that from the day he’d turned that incredible charm her way, he’d known he had an agenda. Her series of articles and research had taught her to understand and not jump to irrational conclusions. She could understand Colin’s desperate need to save the paper from financial ruin, something else she’d been in the dark about. And when they’d first met and he didn’t know her, she couldn’t blame him for having an agenda that would negatively impact her.
But she couldn’t understand the lingering deception. That was the hardest thing to grasp, Rina thought, and an even more difficult thing to forgive.
How could he have listened to her hopes and dreams, all the while knowing he intended to crush them, and never reveal a thing? How could he have made love to her and not tell her something so fundamentally important? And worst of all, how could he hear her revelations about her marriage, discover she’d come through one relationship where she’d lost sight of herself and her dreams, and not reveal his plans to take away hers?
Well, she thought, silence could go both ways. She’d gone out of her way to be understanding of his past, his need for emotional distance, and the fact that his desire to travel would take him away one day. But his behavior toward her was a direct slap and Rina didn’t feel the need to roll over and take it lying down.
Ironically, Colin himself had provided her with her new plan and she had taken today off to update her résumé and e-mail her job queries to magazine editors in New York. Thanks to the Internet, she had instant gratification by pushing the send button. Now all she needed to do was wait for replies. As much as she loved it here in Ashford, Colin was right. The opportunities were in New York.
She was going home.
“Hello?” Frankie’s voice was followed by a belated knock on the door as she let herself in. “Did you survive Christmas?” she asked. “I saw your car downstairs and figured you called in sick in favor of sleeping in.”
“So you thought you’d wake me up instead?” Rina asked wryly.
“Ha-ha.” Frankie sat down on the living-room couch, eyeing Rina’s laptop. “Are you working from home?” she asked, concerned.
“No. I’m looking for new employment.” She shut down the computer and turned toward Frankie. “In fact, you’ll probably have a new neighbor soon.” At the notion, Rina’s stomach twisted with pain and regret.
She didn’t want to leave her home here or the friends she’d made. But now that she’d found herself and her calling, she couldn’t give up writing and there weren’t any other opportunities in the town of Ashford.
“Whoa.” Frankie shook her head. “New neighbor? Not a chance. That’s like asking me to find a new best friend. Besides, you love it here. So back up and ’splain, Lucy.”
Rina rolled her eyes. “You’ve been watching I Love Lucy reruns again, haven’t you?”
Frankie shrugged. “What can I say? It’s better than sleeping. Now quit avoiding the issue and take things from the beginning. Why do you need a new job?”
Rina bunched her hands into fists and explained the paper’s financial situation and Colin’s means of fixing the problem. “So you see, the columnists are out, hard news is in. So I am trying to find a job in Manhattan, where the major national women’s magazines are located. My résumé isn’t extensive, but this series of five articles is nearly finished and they make for a pretty impressive résumé, if I do say so myself.”
She could fill her résumé with the articles she’d written for her “Hot Stuff” column. She still hoped the paper would run the end of the Simply Sexy series, but if not, she’d survive. At least she had an attractive package to show prospective employers.
“Earth to Rina.” Frankie waved her hand in front of Rina’s eyes. “I asked if you were really just running away from your problems with Colin.”
Rina scowled. “I’m made of stronger stuff than that. I’m not running, I’m being smart. There’s nothing left for me here, so I’m moving on.” But the tight squeeze around her heart made her realize she was lying. There was plenty she wanted here, but she had no way of making those kinds of dreams come true.
“What about Colin?” Frankie asked.
Rina glanced down at her feet before meeting Frankie’s gaze. “What about him?”
This time it was Frankie’s turn to scowl. “Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t become you.”
Rina let out a groan of frustration and stomped her foot for good measure. She felt a stab of pain in her heel. “Damn.”
Frankie put a hand on Rina’s shoulder, and at the comforting touch, Rina’s eyes filled with tears. The first ones she’d let herself shed. “The man didn’t think twice about lying to me, so what’s left for me to hang on to now?”
As she spoke, she wanted to believe that the goodness she sensed in Colin wasn’t false, that he had regrets despite his agenda. But she didn’t know, nor could it make any difference. They’d had an affair, by definition a short-term arrangement. She’d always assumed he’d leave, and now she was going back to New York.
“You can hang on to me, Emma, the friends you made down at the paper, to start with. And I bet Colin would be there, too, if you’d let him.”
That was the problem, Rina thought. To listen to him, to hear his side, to let him be there for her, assuming he even wanted to, would leave her vulnerable. No matter how much she loved him, and there was no denying she still did, she didn’t think she could open herself up to that kind of hurt again.
She’d lost her husband and now she’d lost Colin. She’d just now found herself. She couldn’t put that on the line. Especially since his departure was imminent if not guaranteed.
COLIN SAT AT HIS DESK, tapping a pencil against the old blotter. He’d never known a woman could make herself so busy she didn’t have time for one conversation. Monday, Rina had called in sick. Tuesd
ay, she’d come in, worked on her column, wearing a headset, no less. When he’d approached her at lunchtime, she’d said she had a meeting and ran out, probably knowing full well he’d be at the hospital all afternoon. Tuesday evening, she hadn’t answered her phone or her doorbell, and by Wednesday morning, he was irritable.
He’d pick her up and carry her over his shoulder and into the back hall if he had to. Today he wasn’t taking no for an answer.
Someone tapping on his shoulder startled him and he whipped around, annoyed. “What the hell do you want?” he snapped.
“A minute of your time, if it isn’t too much to ask.” Rina stood before him, one hand on her hip, acting as distant as his latest assignment in South America.
Now she wanted to talk? “What can I do for you?” he asked, trying to keep things professional in front of the staff, despite his earlier thoughts of acting like an irrational caveman.
But outer calm belied his internal struggle. He wanted to take her into his arms and not just apologize but swear he’d make things right. How, he wasn’t certain yet. But he damn well would. Even if she never forgave him, he still had to prove he wasn’t another man who’d trampled on her needs and desires.
“I spoke to Corinne about this but she said you’re handling personnel now, so I should come to you.” Her voice was cold, but her eyes betrayed both pain and what he hoped was a lingering caring beneath the cool veneer.
He wasn’t certain where this conversation was headed, but at the word personnel, a distinct tingling he’d always referred to as gut instinct set off warning signals in his brain. “About what?” he asked.
“Referrals. I’ve taken your advice and submitted résumés to some major magazines in New York. Some smaller ones, as well.” She shook her head in a breezy attempt at looking casual.
She failed, he thought. He saw the wounded woman beneath. But he was nowhere near as confident as he had been when this mess had started, and he wondered if he was only imagining the depth of her hurt. Because if she hurt, it meant she still cared.
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