“I don’t know who you are, but I’m really impressed with you right now.”
“Is that why there’s champagne here? Because you’re celebrating my newfound appreciation for running. I’m like blue-ribbon-on-field-day caliber now.”
“Whoa. And yes, that is most definitely it. It’s here for your running celebration. I also finished my story, so both things.”
Lucy broke out into a smile that Kristin felt straight down to her toes. “As in, gone forever? It’s done?”
“I turned it in”—Kristin consulted her watch—“half an hour ago.”
Lucy stepped into Kristin’s space and snaked her arms around Kristin’s neck, looking up at her. “You, Kristin James, are one awesome and accomplished human. I’m very, very proud of you. I know you’ve been working incredibly hard on this story.” She leaned in for a slow kiss. “When do I get to read it and bask in your journalistic prowess?”
Kristin knew this moment was coming, and she’d imagined it on more than one occasion. Now that it was here, she felt sick inside. When she’d taken Dalton’s advice and made the decision to make Global NewsWire a bigger part of the story, she’d had her reservations. But the fact of the matter was that this was her career she was talking about, and journalistic integrity mattered. That meant she couldn’t let her personal life color her point of view when she crafted a story. It had been difficult to push her feelings for Lucy aside and write what she did, but in the end, it had been the right decision. The story needed that hometown anchor featured prominently in the exposition. Lucy was a career-driven woman herself and Kristin was confident she’d get that. At least, she hoped she would.
“You don’t have to read it right now,” Kristin said, releasing Lucy and turning to unwrap the foil from the bottle. “Let’s have a glass.” She was delaying the inevitable here.
“Oh, but I want to.” Lucy slid onto one of the bar stools facing the island. “I’ve actually been really curious about how it was coming along but thought I’d stay out of it until you were finished.”
Kristin struggled with the cork and considered this. “You didn’t have to do that. I would have let you read it.”
“And now I know for next time.” With a loud pop, the cork flew from the bottle and collided with the ceiling in a festive display. Lucy stared at the ceiling in amusement and then back at Kristin. “You give good cork.”
Kristin smiled. “Among other things.”
“And you’re still stalling.” Lucy patted the countertop in front of her. “I’d like my champagne with a side of news story, please.”
“Fine. Okay. Coming right up.” She placed a glass of champagne in front of Lucy and handed her the laptop, which was open to the story. “Let me say this first. Please try and keep an open mind as you read. The story runs on Sunday but I wanted you to have a chance with it first. So we can discuss it.”
Lucy studied her for a moment before nodding solemnly. “Of course.” A flicker of concern crossed her features as she turned her attention to the screen.
Kristin took a seat on the couch behind her, giving Lucy space to read. Suddenly all the reasons she’d given herself to write the particular story as she did fell by the wayside as she watched Lucy, who meant the world to her, read back the words. She controlled her breathing to calm her nerves and took note of the fact that time seemed to inch by. Seconds felt like minutes. Minutes felt like hours.
Somewhere along the way, it became clear to Kristin that Lucy had stopped reading. She closed the laptop in front of her, and though Kristin couldn’t see her face, she’d gone very still.
“Luce?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah?” But she still hadn’t turned around.
“Talk to me. What did you think?”
“I guess I’m a little surprised is all.” She finally did turn around then. To say she appeared stricken was an understatement. The color had drained from her face and her eyes appeared haunted, wide. “So I might need a minute.” She turned back around, but it wasn’t like Kristin could just sit there and do nothing. The look on Lucy’s face had about killed her. She was up and circling the island instantly.
“Hey, don’t pull away from me right now. What’s going through your head? You know this isn’t personal.”
Lucy stared at the wall and gave her head a slow but subtle shake. “How could it not be? Not only do you mention the company I’ve worked hard to build from the ground up, but you’ve made it the crux of your story.”
Kristin took a moment to compile her thoughts, because the distant look on Lucy’s face made her feel as if she’d been punched in the stomach. “I tethered the story to GNW because its corporate headquarters are in San Diego and it allowed readers a connection to the story.”
Lucy stood. “Well, I’m happy I could be that for you. Do you mind if we call it a night early? I’m suddenly not in the mood to socialize.” She headed in the direction of her bedroom.
“Luce, please, let’s talk about this. If you’re angry about the story, say so.”
Lucy turned back to her then, her eyes flashing. “How could I not be angry? I’ve spent the last two and a half months sleeping with a woman that thinks I’m morally bankrupt and a perpetuator of untruths.”
“The story doesn’t say that. I don’t think that.”
“Did you or did you not write a news article that begins with a call for truth in our society and then segues into an example where a local company failed to do just that?”
“That’s a really harsh way of putting it.”
“You used my name, Kristin, and associated me with the act of misleading the public. How are you and I supposed to come back from that?”
“We’ll find a way. Let’s talk this out. I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Too late, because I want to fight with you.”
Kristin took a seat because the words were coming at her fast and furious and she was struggling with where to go. The way Lucy phrased it made the whole thing sound horrible. And it wasn’t that. It was an objective story about a series of events that actually took place. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t understand why you’re so shocked by all of this. You knew the moment we met that I was writing this story and had plans to include Global NewsWire. It’s not ideal, but it’s how things played out. What kind of journalist would I be if I twisted the story to suit my own needs?”
“It’s true I knew you were writing the story, but things were different then.” Her voice was much quieter now, which Kristin wasn’t sure was a good thing. She moved toward Lucy because she needed to be close to her, to let her know that nothing had changed. But Lucy had her hand out.
“Please don’t touch me right now. I feel like I’ve given myself to you in so many ways only to find out that who I am is undervalued. And that is not okay.”
Kristin shook her head. “You can stand there and be as mad as you want about the story. I get it, but don’t tell me that I don’t value you, because you mean more to me than you realize.”
“Apparently not.”
Kristin backtracked, attempting to see the situation as Lucy did. “So you thought I would drop the whole thing once we started dating? Leave you out of it?”
Lucy crossed her arms, indignant now. “Actually, yeah, I did.” The warmth in the way Lucy looked at her was not only gone, but replaced with cold indifference. How was that possible? Something was off here and Kristin wasn’t sure what. Then a horrible thought occurred to her and the question left her lips before she could even fully process its meaning.
“Is that what this has all been about?” Kristin asked. Lucy stared back at her, her expression unreadable. Kristin felt a prickle of fear inch up her spine. “Please tell me that wasn’t your goal all along, get close to me to get me to kill the story?”
Silence reigned.
But it couldn’t be that. It was a ridiculous notion. The moments between them had been too authentic, too tender, to be part of anything manipulative. Lucy wa
sn’t that kind of person and Kristin was sorry she’d even raised the question, understanding how offensive it must have sounded. She held up a hand. “Wait. I should apologize for even suggesting something so—”
“So what?” Lucy asked, raising one shoulder nonchalantly. “What does it matter what my reasons were? It’s not like we had a bad time, and now you’re running with the story anyway. Oh, well.”
Kristin shook her head, wishing she could take it all back. “Stop it. This isn’t you.”
“It’s me in your eyes though, isn’t it?” Lucy said pointedly.
“No. God”—Kristin ran a frustrated hand through her hair—“I shouldn’t have suggested that what we have is anything but real.”
Lucy took a step toward her, her eyes flashing hurt. “No, you shouldn’t have. But at least now I know where we stand, what you feel I’m capable of. Lying and deceiving the public, and then faking it with you for months just to keep it all quiet. Yep”—she nodded—“that’s me to a T.” With a disgusted shake of her head, she was gone.
Numb. That’s how Kristin felt as Lucy exited the room, closing her bedroom door with a dignified click. Kristin took a moment before showing herself out. And as she drove home, she relived how her best laid plans had crumbled into something unforeseen and awful. Quite honestly, she didn’t know which end was up or how to fix it. Everything she did only seemed to make it worse. The story was one thing, but the accusation she’d hurled at Lucy was another. She wasn’t sure there was any way to come back from this, and she struggled to breathe as the hurt slashed through her.
She’d lost Lucy.
It was over.
Chapter Seven
Lucy ignored the knock on her back door. It was going on four in the afternoon and the stupid mechanical staff in RollerCoaster Tycoon were, for whatever reason, refusing to fix her bumper cars in a timely manner and that simply wasn’t acceptable. If they worked for her in the real world, they’d be fired by now. No exceptions.
The knock was louder now, but as answering the door wouldn’t help her theme park, she let it go. The sound of a key in the lock had her rolling her eyes. Really? Five seconds later, Emory stood in front of her looking anything but pleased. “Why are you not answering the door for me?”
She gestured to the screen of her laptop that sat on top of the blanket that sat on top of her lap that was curled up on the sofa in the middle of the afternoon with BP pressed to her side. “RollerCoaster Tycoon is being frustrating right now.”
“Not a good reason. Trevor called and said you were sick. And since you haven’t once called in sick in all the time that I’ve known you, I thought I’d stop by and make sure you were alive.”
“As you can see, I am.” She refocused on the screen. “And deeply depressed about the state of my theme park.”
“Not good enough,” Emory said, circling in front of the sofa. “And, oh my, you’re wearing pajama pants in the late afternoon. You’re the opposite of a lounger. That’s red flag number two. What gives?”
Lucy shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.” And honestly, she didn’t. She’d spent the weekend thinking about Kristin and the news story and their interaction Friday night ad nauseam and where had it gotten her? Nowhere good, that was for sure. This breath of fresh air that had walked into her life and made her feel happier than she’d actually thought possible had just told the world that she was ethically questionable, and then accused Lucy of manufacturing their relationship for personal gain. Did it get much worse than that?
“Well, you have to talk about it,” Emory said.
“Nope. It’s a law that I get to choose.”
Emory took a seat on the couch next to Lucy. “There’s no law. You just made that up.”
“Unimportant detail.”
“You found her, I see,” Grace said from her still-open back door.
Emory nodded. “I did.”
“You brought the tiny person?” Lucy asked, with an exasperated sigh.
“I find she’s often helpful,” Emory said. “Plus, I’m on after-school duty today.”
At Grace’s arrival, Bernadette Peters leapt from the couch and scurried to Grace, who was undoubtedly one of her favorite humans.
“Hiya, BP,” Grace said. She retrieved a dog treat from the jar on top of the fridge and held it up for the excited pup. When BP saw the treat, she immediately rolled over and looked to Grace expectantly for her reward.
“Whoa,” Emory said, pointing at the dog. “When did she learn to do that?”
But it was too late, Lucy felt the tears start.
“Okay, okay. So maybe we’ve touched on something a little tender. Am I right?”
Lucy nodded and brushed the tears from her cheeks with windshield-wiper hands.
“Did you teach Bernadette Peters to roll over?”
Lucy shook her head. “Kristin taught her.”
Emory’s mouth made a small oh. “I take it you read the story. I tried to message you, but you didn’t answer. I take it you and Kristin had an argument?”
“We did. It’s over, and suffice it to say it didn’t end well.”
Emory looked across the room at Grace, who was in the midst of a game of tug-of-war with BP over one of her plush toys. She dropped her voice. “Can you tell me what prompted this?”
Lucy ran her fingers through her hair because she wasn’t sure talking about it would help. At the same time, why the hell not? She couldn’t feel much worse. “She finished her story and let me read it. I said some things. She said some things. But the fact of the matter is the story is out there. It ran yesterday and it’s water under the bridge. The story. Kristin and I. All of it. It’s time that I look ahead, and I will do that as soon as I get these stupid maintenance guys to do their job.” But honestly, Lucy wasn’t sure how to move forward and just forget the past couple of months. The world looked lifeless now in comparison.
“All right. Let’s talk this through. The article wasn’t great for GNW.”
Lucy met her eyes. “Are you kidding? It’s catastrophic.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Emory took a seat and seemed to organize her thoughts. “I think the article was well written and a fair representation of the series of events. It made me think, which I suppose was her goal.”
“How are you not furious?”
Emory lifted a shoulder. “Because in a week, people will have moved on. We know we didn’t do anything unscrupulous, and this whole thing comes down to semantics of what a wire service actually is. Do I love that she included us in the story? Of course not. Do I think it’s the end of the world? I don’t.”
Lucy studied her. “You’re really taking this in stride, you know that?”
“Would you rather be with a woman who compromises what she believes in?”
“I don’t know, maybe.”
Emory shook her head. “You wouldn’t. I know you.”
Lucy tossed her head back against the sofa. “I guess not when you put it that way.”
“So you can be together again,” Grace called from across the room. Just when you thought she wasn’t listening…
“It’s more complicated than that, tiny person,” Lucy said.
Grace was on her feet and moving into the living room, all calm and cool and ten years old, the way Grace often was. “No, it’s not. You like her, so tell her so.”
Lucy raised a shoulder. “Just tell her so, huh?”
“Yeah, like that. You could write it in a note, or call her on the phone, or text it to her.”
“Who are we texting?” Sarah asked from the back door. Well, it was a full-on party now. The gang was all here. Sarah had their dog, Walter, on a leash and wore workout clothes, damn her. Upon seeing BP, the chocolate retriever let out a little whine, which prompted Sarah to let him off the leash so he could seek out his reluctant friend. Walter tended to think everyone loved him, and secretly BP probably did.
Emory turned to Sarah. “Grace feels Lucy should text Kristin
because she really likes her despite the fact that Kristin wrote a story that painted Global NewsWire in not the best light. Lucy still seems to feel that Kristin undervalues her integrity and that’s hard to overcome. You follow?”
“I do.”
Emory pointed at Sarah. “This is why I’m hot for her.”
Sarah kissed Emory hello. “That’s the only reason?”
“Well, no, not even close.”
“Excellent.” Sarah laughed and took a seat next to Lucy. “I read that story last night and despite the GNW tie-in, it’s a thoughtful piece. It makes you stop and think about how we look at the world. What details we value.”
“I’m sure it was a great story,” Lucy said with a wave of her hand, “but has your girlfriend ever publicly maligned you?”
Sarah thought on this. “No. I can’t say she has.”
“And to be honest, it’s not even the story that keeps racing through my mind, it was the insinuation she made questioning the legitimacy of my feelings for her. That I had ulterior motives for being with her.”
“Do you think she really feels that way?” Sarah asked.
Lucy lifted her hand and let it drop. “I don’t know. She tried to take it back, but how do you put toothpaste back in the tube, you know?” Her throat tightened with emotion, because God, she missed Kristin and it had only been a couple of days.
“I think you owe it to yourself to hear her side of things, have a discussion, and work through it, if possible. Given she’s worth it. Is Kristin worth it?”
Lucy shook her head. “I can’t see past the hurt right now to answer the question.” Sarah and Emory exchanged a look across her. “I totally saw that, by the way. The knowing glance. Don’t flaunt your knowing glances at me when I have no one to knowing-glance with.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Emory said. “But I agree with Sarah and think you need to do something radical and have an actual conversation with her. Not an argument, but an exchange. Because you’ve smiled more in the last few weeks than I can ever remember, and that says something.”
Sweet Hearts Page 9