by Noelle Adams
Strangely offended on Sadie’s behalf, Zach demanded, “What does that mean?”
“I fired her.”
Now he was thoroughly confused. “Why?”
She regarded him with a hint of a smile on her thin lips. “I’d like to say it’s none of your concern, but in a roundabout way, it is your fault.”
“My fault?”
“We disagreed over your interview.”
Anger began to override confusion. “You fired her over that article and then still had the nerve to print it with someone else’s name on it? That’s a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”
The editor-in-chief laughed as if he’d said something funny. Zach didn’t find any of this the least bit humorous.
“Actually, I think Paige did an excellent job with the pitifully limited material I confiscated from Sadie. I fired her, Mr. Robinson, because she refused to write the article.”
Surprise robbed him of further words. Damned if that didn’t put a whole new spin on the story.
Ten
Sadie sat on the edge of the tub, watching the six yellow and black ducklings paddle their little webbed feet through two inches of water. A brief smile twitched at her lips as one of them drifted under the still-running faucet, shook its head with a spray of drops, and bobbed off balance as it spun in a circle.
She probably should’ve taken them to the wildlife sanctuary last night, but after finding herself unexpectedly unemployed, she’d clung to the fluffy little quackers to lift her spirits. Later tonight she’d make the drive.
Footsteps clicked down the hall behind her and she looked back over her shoulder. Gemma paused in the doorway, fully recovered from her inopportune, twenty-four hour bug.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” she asked for the third time.
After one look at her sister’s shimmery blue shirt, white mini-skirt, and four-inch heels, she turned back to the tub with a laugh. “I don’t think so.”
“Come on, Sadie. Get out of those old shorts, throw on something sexy and after a couple drinks you’ll feel better about all this. We’re going to Jason’s dad’s house in Malibu after dinner for a bonfire on the beach—just like back home.”
She hadn’t liked the drunken parties back home and didn’t think the beach would help now. “Thanks, but I don’t feel like being the third wheel tonight.”
“You could never be a third wheel.”
“With you dressed like that, I’d definitely be the third wheel. Seriously, no thanks. I’m going to take the ducks to the wildlife sanctuary in a little while, so you and Jason go have fun.”
Gemma hesitated, then offered, “I could send him home and go with you…if you want?”
“Don’t you dare.” Sadie appreciated the thought, but after gushing about their first night out, she knew her sister had been waiting for this second date with Jason all week.
“Are you sure?”
She laughed at the note of hope that crept into her sister’s voice. “I’m sure. Now go before I get annoyed. Just be careful with the drinking, okay? And take a jacket—it may be unusually warm, but it’ll still be cooler by the coast.”
“Yes, mom.” Gemma hugged her from behind and kissed her on the cheek. “Love ya, sis.”
“Love you, too.” But Gemma’s heels clicking across the living room floor told her she was already speaking to herself.
“Have fun,” she hollered above the sound of the running water.
“We will—don’t wait up!”
Sadie shook her head and reached to pet one of the ducks. Spindly legs churned as it turned on the speed and swam out from under her touch amidst a few frantic quacks. Muted, muffled voices carried to the bathroom and she hoped Jason was as anxious to get going as Gemma. Meeting him and engaging in friendly conversation sounded like torture right about now.
A long minute later she faintly heard the front door shut and her shoulders slumped with relief. Finally, blessed peace. No need to put on a brave face and pretend everything was going to be alright. After yesterday, she wasn’t so sure of that pipe-dream anymore.
All because Zach had to ask her not to write about the stupid commercial. Tomorrow she’d square her shoulders and regroup. For tonight, though, she’d deal with the ducks, splurge on some of her favorite Baskin Robin’s Gold Metal Ribbon ice cream, and watch a sappy movie to disguise her tears.
Strangely enough, it wasn’t losing her job that bothered her so much. Not at Life’s a Beach. And especially not now that she knew the true caliber of people who ran the place and worked there. No, it was something more profound and less tangible than a steady paycheck.
After growing up with behind-the-back whispers, snide looks, and more than a few outright accusations about her mother marrying a wealthy man thirty years her senior, Sadie had known exactly what kind of people were in the world. She’d even attempted to shed the stigma cast on her by their small town by refusing her stepfather’s money and working her way through college. Sometimes it’d taken three jobs at once.
After all that, she certainly wouldn’t have classified herself as naïve. Until yesterday afternoon when she’d been fired for standing up for what she believed was right.
The article Paige wrote with Sadie’s notes was nothing more than unfair speculation and some thinly veiled lies thrown in for the express purpose of stirring up controversy to sell papers. Sensationalism at its best. Or worst. She understood the concept, had learned all about the cutthroat practice in college, but figured it’d be easier to handle in the real world with a job on the line.
Turned out she couldn’t stomach it now, either.
Which left her questioning whether she really had what it would take to be the journalist she’d always dreamed of being. Had she spent six years in college and thousands in school loans on the wrong darn profession?
Gut clenching at the terrifying thought, she reached over to shut off the water.
“Thought you were only—”
Sadie shrieked in alarm, drowning out any additional words from the unexpected deep male voice behind her. She jerked around on the edge of the tub and promptly lost her balance. An undignified backward decent sent cold water splashing in every direction. Waves bounced off the sides of the tub and crashed together in the middle. Right in her face.
One of the baby ducks rode a wave and flopped onto Sadie’s chest. Its frantic quacking matched that of its siblings and the pounding of her heart.
She reached up to brush hair and water from her face and stared up at Zach.
John Z. Robinson, Jr.
The reason she was currently jobless.
Initially, he’d jumped forward as if to try to catch her, but now he stood over the tub with a smile tugging the corners of his mouth. She didn’t even have time to be relieved that he wasn’t some crazed psycho before humiliation doused her as effectively as the water.
The little duck on her chest stood with a quack, flapped its skinny wings, and tumbled back into the water. A quick glance to the side accounted for all six ducklings, huddled together on the opposite end of the tub, apparently unharmed.
“Are you okay?” Zach asked around his smirk.
Sure—if she didn’t count the fact that he stood handsome as could be in her tiny bathroom while her hair was a mess, she wore no make-up and paint-stained cut-off sweatpants with an old tank top—on top of being the epitome of a drowned rat.
“Just ducky,” she muttered.
Unlike her dignity.
As the ducks quacked, Zach extended a hand to help her up. At first, she ignored it and gripped the side of the tub. The slick surface provided no traction, so instead of giving him an instant replay of her backward tumble, she reluctantly grabbed his offer.
On her feet, she pulled free of his warm, tingle-inducing touch and stared down at the water pooling on the floor. She looked up to see if reaching past him for a towel was an option and caught his grin in full bloom.
Her heart thumped, but she manag
ed to snap, “This isn’t funny.”
“I’m sorry.”
With obvious effort, his expression sobered, but humor lingered in those green eyes. Just like when they were filming the commercial and he’d laughed at her and Slick. A corner of his mouth twitched and her annoyance jumped up a few notches. He turned away and grabbed a towel off the yard-sale rack above the toilet.
She snatched it from his hand. “What are you doing here? How’d you even get in?”
“Your sister let me in on her way out. And wow, I can see why you took her place in the commercial without anyone realizing it.”
Sadie wiped her face to hide her scowl. Damn Gemma. She’d seen the paper this morning, knew who Zach was. Knew he was the reason she’d gotten fired.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized.
Oh, no you don’t, she thought. Mr. Nice Guy ain’t gonna work.
She began to dry off, acutely aware of him standing a mere foot away. His black, button-down shirt enhanced his dark good looks and she had to fight against the urge to sneak peeks through her wet lashes.
When she realized she couldn’t bend over to soak up the water dripping from her pants without head-butting him in the stomach, she briefly considered it before gesturing with the towel.
“Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” He backed up and leaned against the doorjamb, giving her a whole extra two feet of room. Not quite what she had in mind, but she clenched her jaw and kept drying.
Gemma must’ve cranked the air conditioner when she was getting ready because the water that’d merely been cool to the touch felt like ice on Sadie’s skin. Moments later, the towel was too wet to dry anymore, her pants were still soaked through, and her teeth had started to chatter.
Zach straightened to his full, imposing height. A good nine inches taller with her bare feet. “You need to get out of those wet clothes.”
His firm statement flipped Sadie’s stomach. The words were said innocently enough, and they made sense, but delivered in his low voice, they conjured up all sorts of enticing possibilities.
Then she reminded herself that she’d be pounding the pavement for a new job on Monday morning, all thanks to him. And she’d never slept with anyone without having a foundation of a relationship first. She wasn’t about to start now, no matter how darn attractive he was.
Towel held to her chest to hide the effects of the cold water, a resolute lift of her chin brought her gaze to his. “You n-need to get out of m-my apartment.”
“Not until we talk.”
“We’ve got n-n-othing to talk about-t-t.”
“Yes, we do.”
“No, we don’t,” she insisted. Thankfully her teeth kept quiet.
Silence stretched. Zach didn’t budge and her chattering resumed, despite her attempt to clench her jaw. When he stepped forward and took hold of her shoulders, she acknowledged a tiny bit of anxiety and a whole lot of anticipation. The two emotions evened out as he pulled her from the bathroom and faced her toward the hall that led to her and Gemma’s tiny bedrooms.
Two steps down the hall, with him right behind her, anxiety began to tip the scales. Did he think because of the way she’d kissed him yesterday that she would just jump right into bed with him? Heck, did she?
Suddenly, her fear was not what he might be thinking, but what she was now thinking. Sadie put on the brakes, and Zach’s chest bumped into her back.
“I suggest you get changed, because I’m not leaving until we get a few things straight.”
An underlying edge of steel in his tone told her he meant business. Unfortunately, the warmth of his hands on her shoulders and his breath against her ear triggered an unstoppable shiver that shook her from top to bottom. She drew on the strength that’d gotten her through high school and college and walked her out the doors of Life’s a Beach.
“If you’re expecting an apology, I w-wouldn’t h-hold my breath if I w-were y-you.”
His grip tightened for a brief moment, and then she received a gentle push forward. “Hurry up before you catch a cold.”
After a few steps, she chanced a quick glance over her shoulder. He stood unmoving, hands shoved in his pockets, watching her progress down the hall.
In her bedroom, she quietly clicked the lock and turned to lean back against wooden panel, willing her pulse to settle down. Good Lord, if he was going to jump her, he’d have done it already. Her shoulders slumped, but she quickly squared them and shoved away from the door.
No, she wasn’t disappointed!
He also wasn’t going to leave, so she might as well get this over with. Gemma’s earlier comment about wearing something sexy rang in her ears as she stared into her closet. Sadie reached for one of her dressier blouses, then huffed in annoyance and grabbed a faded tee from its hanger before hurrying over to her dresser for a pair of jeans with a hole in one knee and frayed hems.
A look in the mirror almost sent her back to the closet. The vain urge to try and impress the man was restrained to combing the tangles from her damp curls, dusting powder over her shiny face, adding a swipe of clear gloss to her lips, and a touch of mascara to darken her blond lashes.
She hurried down the hall and paused near the slip-covered couch in the living room. The hum of the air conditioner, along with the quacks from the ducklings still in the tub, drowned out the whisper of her bare feet on the scuffed laminate floors.
Her silent approach allowed her a moment to compose herself as her gaze took him in. Hands still in his front pockets, Zach gazed out the large picture window at the yard one story below. The late afternoon sun glinted off his ebony hair, but down below she knew the light rays only served to highlight the neighborhood’s overall shabbiness.
A shiny silver convertible, parked behind her blue rust-bucket, looked as conspicuous as she’d felt yesterday in his office. Embarrassment washed over her, but she quickly channeled the emotion into anger.
“If you’re so worried someone might steal it, why not just leave?”
Zach swung around from the window. She felt the weight of his appraisal as his gaze swept the length of her. Feminine pride reared up and made her wish she’d gone for the something nice. She battled back the inferiority complex trying to team up with her vanity and crossed her arms over her chest.
He stepped toward her. Oh, no. If he got too close, if she smelled him and took a moment to think back on those kisses the other day, she’d lose her angry defense. She put the couch between them to avoid temptation.
He stopped, looking a tad offended. “I’m worried about you, Sadie, not my car.”
“Right.” She rolled her eyes. “How’d you get my address, anyway?”
“I have my connections,” he said.
“You mean you have money.”
Her accusation made his gaze narrow. She hated that she sounded jealous. It wasn’t that she was envious of his money, she just didn’t like that he could apparently get whatever he wanted because of it. Like her stepdad and his club friends. And their spoiled, entitled kids.
“Turns out Russ knows your sister’s agent.”
Zach’s explanation cut into her bitter thoughts and she kept her ‘oh’ to herself as a particularly loud quack echoed from the hallway.
“I thought you were only doing a story on the Good Samaritan,” Zach said. “How’d you end up with the ducks?”
Sadie backed up and did a quick check to make sure the little noisemakers were still confined in the tub. “The so-called Good Samaritan wasn’t too thrilled that Life’s a Beach was the only paper willing to give him fifteen minutes of fame. Said if I didn’t take them, he’d toss them back in the ditch.”
“Sounds like a jerk.”
“He was.”
All ducklings present and accounted for.
“What are you going to do with them?”
He’d come around the couch while she was distracted and now stood just a few feet away. Sadie’s heart got all hopeful again, but she put a stop to that
. “What do you care?”
His eyebrows rose. “Wow. You’re really pissed at me, aren’t you?”
She fisted her hands on her hips and glared. “I lost my job because of you. If you think I’m going to apologize for what the paper printed, think again, buster.”
Instead of him looking remorseful, which is the least he could’ve done, his smile made a reappearance. Damn the man for constantly laughing at her. Maybe he didn’t have to worry about a paycheck, but she did. She should’ve just written the damn story.
With a small growl of fury, she strode to the coffee table and started straightening Gemma’s mess of entertainment magazines.
Zach approached and took a casual seat on the arm of their second-hand couch with its broken back leg. When it wobbled under his weight, he shot back to his feet. “Sadie, I know where the blame lies for the article, and you definitely don’t owe me an apology. But do you honestly believe your bitch of a boss is my fault?”
She slapped the pile of magazines down. “Since you obviously know Natasha, yes.”
“I only met the woman this afternoon.” At her look of surprise, he added, “She’s not exactly subtle.”
He’d known she’d been let go before he got here? Her heart wanted to attach romantic intentions to his presence. Her brain told her a rich, good-looking man like him would never be seriously interested in a nobody like her. Especially one who clearly didn’t have two pennies to her name.
Now she really wanted to know why he’d come.
He took a step closer and caught her gaze with his. Much as she wanted to, she couldn’t look away.
“Why didn’t you just write the article, Sadie?”
“You asked me not to.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t expect you to listen.”
His admission left her dumbfounded. “Then why’d you ask in the first place?”
He shrugged, looking as confused as she felt.
Anger began to creep back in. “You made it sound imperative the commercial remain a secret.”
“Not on purpose. The commercial was—is—no big deal. Russ showed me some footage that night and thanks to your hair, no one will know it’s me anyway.”