Moonlight Over Seattle

by Callie Endicott

  “I wasn’t suggesting it was the only reason. PostModern wants a real examination of the complexities that lead someone such as you, who seemed to be living the dream, to make a change in her life. So I’m not looking for one-two-three explanations, because when it comes to the human psyche, there’s no such thing as simple.”

  “I’ll think about it and we can discuss it another time.”

  Jordan sighed. It had been ages since he had worked as a reporter. Even then it had been mostly about asking a few brisk questions and writing down equally fast answers. But Syd would never be satisfied with a standard story. This needed to be far more intimate and asking him to do it was just...

  He scowled.

  Okay, maybe he hadn’t been the kind of reporter who’d dug deeper. His professional goal had always been to write an op-ed column and everything else had become a stepping stone to his ambition. Syd hadn’t approved, claiming he needed experience to have something worth saying, not just a clever way of saying it.

  Nicole cocked her head. “What are you thinking about? You’ve got a rather intense expression.”

  “That I’d like to send my editor to Antarctica.”

  “Should I be offended?”

  “No. What it means is that I’m a completely normal person who, as it turns out, isn’t crazy about being pushed out of his comfort zone.”

  “Few people are. Change can also be about growth, whether you like it or not. Maybe these articles are the fertilizer she’s spreading to stimulate your growth spurt. Or in your case, advancement on the evolutionary scale.”

  Jordan laughed reluctantly. “Hey, I’m not the focus of this interview.”

  “You are, in a way,” she said before adding, “for the blog.”

  He might as well be honest with himself—at the moment he’d give a lot to have Nicole focused on him, with the rest of world locked out. She might be dressed in casual business garb, and didn’t appear to be trying to attract his sexual interest, but she wasn’t downplaying her looks. Her slim skirt and blouse showed her figure to perfection. It was a warm day and she wasn’t wearing stockings, but her feet were shod in elegant sandals. Her hair fell in golden waves over her shoulders, one lock curling around her left breast...

  He definitely had to stop noticing details like that.

  It still didn’t make sense to him. He’d seen Nicole pictured in dozens of ads that were far more provocative, with seductive poses, sultry angles, and simmering glances. Sometimes she’d been barely clothed, wearing scant bikinis or silk lingerie. If he was going to feel a personal attraction, wouldn’t he have gotten at least a hint of it when looking at those shots?

  Syd had kidded him about the possibility of hormonal interference and he’d assured her that it wouldn’t be a problem. Now he had a feeling that the universe was laughing at him.

  * * *

  IN BETWEEN PHONE calls and filing, Chelsea spent the morning exploring drawers, cabinets and the computer. Nicole had apologized for not being able to provide more orientation and had promised they would be patient as she learned how the agency operated and what needed to be done.

  Admittedly, the thought of meeting the rest of the agency’s partners made Chelsea nervous. Nicole had been terrific and Adam Wilding seemed nice. But Rachel Clarion and Logan Kensington were unknown quantities. Still, it seemed unlikely that Nicole would be friends and partners with people who were jerks. Besides, there would be even more unknowns at a different company.

  Chelsea pulled out a stack of papers that had been shoved behind supplies on a bottom shelf, a miscellaneous collection of paid invoices, bills of lading and other documents. Before Adam had left, he’d mentioned paperwork was missing; perhaps the temporary office help had never filed it in the first place.

  From what she could tell, the original filing system had been excellent, it was the haphazard way it had been kept recently that was the problem. Chelsea sorted the unfiled paperwork and decided to start going through the physical files, A to Z. Getting everything into its right place would help her learn more about agency operations.

  Her spirits rose as she worked.

  She was starting to think she could be really good for the agency. It had been a long time since she’d felt that way, partly because of Ron’s constant, insidious little comments. They’d chipped away at her confidence, bit by bit, until nothing had been left. Now, so far away from him, she couldn’t believe she’d put up with it for so long. What was wrong with her? She sighed. Maybe nothing. Perhaps Ron hadn’t realized what he was doing and they’d simply been a really bad match.

  The phone rang. She was in the file and copier room behind the reception desk. Dashing out, Chelsea grabbed the receiver.

  “Moonlight Ventures Agency.”

  “Chelsea? That’s gotta be you.”

  It was Ron and she felt an instinctive surge of panic. Here she just been thinking about what he’d said and done and the next thing she knew, his voice was sounding in her ears. Forcing herself to calm down, she reflected that there was nothing weird about it. She’d thought often about him in the few days since they had broken up, so if he called, it was practically a guarantee that he’d hit a moment when she was remembering something about their time together.

  “How did you know I was here?” she asked, keeping her voice even.

  “One of your neighbors said where you were working.”

  Chelsea blinked, recalling that she’d phoned a neighbor in Los Angeles to explain the situation and that she was moving to Seattle for her new job. She should have asked Marta not to tell Ron anything if he came around; she just hadn’t thought he’d bother.

  “I had to call—I couldn’t believe you’d get a job so far away from me,” Ron added.

  She drew a deep breath. “What I do isn’t your business any longer. I told you we’re through.”

  “But you didn’t mean it. You’re always saying things you don’t mean.”

  “I meant it. We’re finished.”

  “After three years together? I put a lot of time and energy into our relationship. We love each other and—”

  “And nothing,” she said as firmly as she could manage. “Find someone else.”

  “But—”

  Chelsea hit the off button on the phone, partly out of panic. But it also might be the only way to handle Ron—he always had an argument to make, could cajole and wheedle and send her on guilt trips and uncertainty searches. From now on when she answered, she’d check the caller ID to see if it was him.

  Dragging in deep, calming breaths, she went back to work and forced herself to open and sort the next file. It helped that she was so far away. Ron might call long distance, but he probably wouldn’t come north to see her in person.

  Using logic to deal with her thoughts helped quiet her nerves, but she still couldn’t ignore the stabs of guilt over what had happened...and a little anger as well.

  Why couldn’t she have met a nicer guy three years ago, instead of Ron? If it had been someone like Barton Smith, her life might be entirely different today. Then she reminded herself that she didn’t actually know Barton was nicer and that in the beginning, she’d thought Ron was great, too.

  * * *

  AFTER AN HOUR of cautious discussion with Nicole, Jordan knew he wasn’t close to getting the kind of insights needed for the PostModern articles. His frustration was pointless and unrealistic. It took patience to get through to some people. Syd must have expected this to be a challenge. She always said complex people were the ones their readers wanted to hear about; otherwise, they could get three paragraphs to skim on the internet.

  He was the one who’d assumed Nicole wasn’t multidimensional...a stupid notion based on his old ideas about her. It was becoming uncomfortably obvious that he wasn’t putting aside his biases nearly as well as he wanted.

  Nicole glanced at the clock on t
he wall. “It’s almost noon and I need to check in at a photo shoot that starts at one thirty. So we’d better finish for now. Do you want to go with me this afternoon?”

  Jordan couldn’t imagine anything duller, but Nicole’s blue eyes held a distinct challenge.

  “Sure,” he agreed. “Can I take you to lunch first?”

  “I’ve got a call to make, so I’m going to eat something at my desk. We’ll have time to get to the shoot if you’re back by one.”

  He excused himself and went to the reception area where his sister was studying something in a file.

  “Hey, how about taking pity on your brother and going out to lunch with me?”

  “Uh, I’d love to. Just a minute.” She put the file in a drawer, jumped up and collected her purse. She carefully locked the front door and followed him to his car.

  “I need to be back in an hour,” she said.

  “No problem, so do I. There’s a deli nearby that makes great sandwiches. We can eat them down by the lake. It’s a warm day for late April, so sitting outside will be perfect.”

  “That’s nice.” Chelsea smiled, but still seemed pale and tense.

  “Something wrong?”

  “No, I mean, well... Ron called the agency looking for me. I didn’t look at the caller ID, and...he recognized my voice right away.”

  “What the dev—” Jordan cut his exclamation short. “How did he know where you were?”

  “Probably from my neighbor in Los Angeles. I talked to her a few days ago and I must have...um...forgotten to say everything was confidential.”

  “What did he want?”

  Chelsea sighed. “The usual. I told him to leave me alone.”

  “I’ll call and reinforce the message.”

  “No,” she said sharply. “I took care of it. Ron is my mistake. No one else should have to deal with him.”

  “I’m your brother. I know we haven’t had much chance to know each other as adults, but I want to help.”

  She was silent a long moment. “Then let’s be adults. Let me take care of this and if I need help, I’ll ask.”

  “Okay.”

  Too late he recalled his resolution of the past weekend, that rushing to help her without permission wasn’t a good idea. He wanted to respect Chelsea as an adult. But he wasn’t sure what his role should be. He’d never been the protective big brother of novels and family TV programs and the Masters clan had never fit an idealized image. He’d gotten closer to Terri the past couple of years, partly because Terri had called often to discuss what was going on with Chelsea. She’d been really worried about their baby sister. It had brought into focus that while Terri had sharp edges and a tough exterior, underneath she truly cared.

  “I think I’m going to like my new job,” Chelsea said, breaking into his thoughts.

  “That’s terrific.” He answered, remembering she’d already emphasized that she wouldn’t say anything about the agency or Nicole. “I’d love to hear about it, but while I’m doing the articles, perhaps it would be easiest if we avoid talking about Moonlight Ventures.”

  “Yeah.” Chelsea settled back into a more relaxed position. “You know, I’d like to get a cat after I find a permanent apartment.”

  “A cat?”

  “Yes. I’ve always loved them and wanted to adopt a kitten two years ago, but I... I just didn’t.”

  Right, Jordan thought, Ron had probably objected.

  “Do you want company while you go looking for one?” he asked.

  “Maybe. Nicole says there were a lot of kittens and cats at the rescue shelter where she got Toby, so I’ll start there. Maybe you should adopt one, too.”

  “Not a good idea. I’d feel like scum having to kennel it whenever I go out of town. You know how much I travel.”

  “Except now you have a sister living nearby. I could take care of an animal for you.”

  “I’ll think about it,” he answered, mostly to get her off the subject. He didn’t want to adopt a dog or cat any more than he wanted any other permanent involvements.

  His life worked fine the way it was.

  Chapter Eight

  AFTER A CALL with Rachel to discuss agency business, Nicole took the salad she’d brought for lunch out of the refrigerator and did paperwork as she ate. Some of it was stuff Chelsea would eventually learn to do, and Nicole could hardly wait to surrender it to her.

  “Isn’t it important to relax over lunch?” Jordan’s voice interrupted her concentration.

  She glanced up to see him in the doorway of her office. “Right now I need to use every minute I can.” She refrained from mentioning that the interviews were one of the reasons her schedule was so full. The timer chimed on her desk, reminding her of the next task.

  “An alarm?” Jordan asked.

  “Sure. I get absorbed in what I’m doing and set an alarm so I don’t have to break my concentration to keep checking the clock.”

  Nicole stood and stretched and saw heat flare in his eyes. She swallowed; it was best to ignore any hint that he might think she was attractive. The relationship with Jordan was strictly business, and temporary at best. Nor was there anything unusual in a man finding her desirable. She’d been fortunate to be born with good looks and it wasn’t anything to be smug about. After all, her appearance wasn’t an achievement. While she’d learned how to present herself, it wasn’t the same as her business degree, which had required hard work. Well, she had to exercise and be careful about eating, but that wasn’t quite the same.

  “Ready to go?” Jordan asked. The husky note in his voice sent tingles up her spine. Obviously her body wasn’t cooperating with her wish to stay free of entanglements.

  “Just about,” she answered as casually as possible. “I need to check with Chelsea before leaving.”

  He followed as she went out to the reception area.

  “Chelsea, I’m going to that photo shoot now. Do you have any questions about what you’ve looked at so far?”

  “No. But I’m working on a new way of recording the hours our clients are on assignment, rates and such. I found the note from the accounting firm saying they’d like a new format.”

  Nicole frowned. “That never got to me. Could you let them know we’ve had staff changes and that you’ll work with them on a process that meets both our needs?”

  “I hope it’s all right, but I already emailed and told them that I didn’t think you’d seen the request and I would bring it to your attention once you were free.”

  “That’s terrific. Things are already going smoother with you here.”

  Chelsea’s face glowed pink with the compliment. “If anybody calls or stops in to see you, what shall I tell them?”

  “Just that I’m out on business and you’ll give me the message. Call or text with anything truly urgent.”

  Nicole was acutely aware of Jordan’s presence as they walked outside to her car.

  Renewed tension crawled through her. Perhaps she’d feel the same with any other reporter, but it was more intense because it was Jordan and the new office manager was his sister. All the same, she didn’t believe she would have interacted with Chelsea in any other way. A word of approval had seemed appropriate, though she hadn’t been able to keep from wondering whether Jordan would think she was trying to get on his good side.

  Yet it was also unfair to withhold a compliment to an employee just because she didn’t want to be perceived as trying to butter someone up.

  She breathed deeply to relax, wishing her brain didn’t run in circles around itself. Unfortunately, the chase would probably continue at a fast pace until the interviews for the magazine article were completed.

  * * *

  BARTON PARKED NEAR the Moonlight Ventures Agency...out of easy view from the windows and double doors. The glass was tinted and had a reflective quality, so while he couldn
’t see inside, Chelsea could probably observe everything going on outside.

  He wanted time to think his plan through again. In his pocket were two tickets to the Mariners game that night. Considering the discussion about the Mariners at Saturday’s dinner, it seemed okay to ask Chelsea to go with him.

  Heck, there was no point in overthinking everything.

  Getting out of his car, Barton strode toward the door and opened it, hearing a soft chime as he entered.

  Chelsea turned from the computer at the right side of the wide, curving reception desk.

  “Barton. Hi.” Her face was pink, perhaps from surprise. “Why aren’t you teaching your class?”

  “A truck hit a transformer near the school and knocked out the power, so we closed early. I hope it was okay to drop by to see you.”

  “It shouldn’t be a problem. What’s up?”

  “A parent gave me tickets for the ballgame when he came to pick up his son—they aren’t able to go themselves—so I was wondering if you’d like to see Safeco Field tonight.”

  “Oh.” She bit her lip. “Doesn’t someone in your family want to go with you?”

  “Naw, my brother has season tickets and my folks aren’t into baseball. Please come. It’s more fun watching a game with a friend.”

  “Oh. That’s awful nice of you. I’d love to.”

  He grinned. “Great. This is my chance to win over another fan for the home team.”

  She laughed. “Subversive tactics?”

  “At least I’m being up-front about my motives.” Yet he knew he wasn’t being completely up-front. After a long period of keeping his head down and ignoring the possibility of making new friends, he wanted to get back to his old self. Maybe not jump into romance, but friendship seemed good. Easier said than done, though.

  “What time?” Chelsea asked. “I don’t get off until five and it takes fifteen minutes to drive home. Longer if I hit traffic.”