Talk of the Town (12 page)

“With topless babes, instead of reporting on Chicago’s philanthropists at play in black tie?”

He shrugged. “Outdated reporting. Inquiring minds want to know everything. The good. The bad. The ugly.”

She was grateful his attitude was making her furious enough to ignore the excitement pulsing between them. She glared across the table. “When did we start believing we have the right to know every dirty little secret about one another and enjoy watching while people make fools of themselves?”

His rich, deep laughter filled the room, whipping her into a deeper frenzy.

“
What?
What’s so funny?”

“You.” Still chuckling, he leaned so close they nearly touched. “Have you forgotten the blind item that started all this? The senator and the babe? You’ve done your share of exposing dirty little secrets.”

Stung by the truth of his outrageous claim, she rose to tower over him on four inches of steel stiletto. “It’s not the same. I
always
change the names to protect the dirty little secrets of the guilty. The innocent don’t need protecting. I give them credit for their good deeds. Or I should say
I did
before you fired me.”

He stood, his hands rammed into his trouser pockets. His eyes were mesmerizing in their intensity. “I’m glad you chose to stay. Otherwise I wouldn’t have known who you really are. I like who I see.”

A second ago she wanted to strangle him. Now she had a warm, glowing, nearly overpowering urge to sit back down and let nature take its course. She’d been handling men for years. Obviously this one had a slightly different effect on her.

I need to regroup.

“It’s been such an . . . interesting . . . and
informative
evening. I’m sorry, but I’m suddenly exhausted.” She marched to the condo door and held it open. At her pointed look he had no choice but to cross the L-shaped room to her side.

Ignoring her obvious desire to be rid of him, David lingered in the open doorway. “May I ask you a personal question?”

Anything to get you out of here.
“Yes, if you must.”

“If rumor is true, you only date much younger men. Why?”

You hypocrite.
“Why do you date much younger women?” she threw back at him, holding on to the part of her that still wanted to strangle him.

The mischievous grin that crossed his face sent a tidal wave of tiny shivers down her spine. “For the excitement and lack of commitment.”

“At last. We have something in common,” she purred before closing the door on him.

Breathing deeply, she fell back against the wall. David was hypnotically sexy even at his most insufferable. He wasn’t her type, but she could
almost
understand why some women would want him.

She stared at her flushed face in the mirrored foyer. “Who are you kidding? You’re the hypocrite. You wanted him the first moment you laid eyes on him and again tonight.”

The stress of
this
confusion needed to be fed. She stalked back to the kitchen, yanked open the refrigerator, and pulled out the bowl of fresh strawberries and whipped cream. She ate standing up, plunging strawberries into whipped cream before slowly licking and eating them.

Finally she faced the awful truth.
Okay. All right. I want him even though he’s the enemy. The one I must defeat, or charm, or reason into giving me back my job.

Now what should she do about that, not to mention his horrible plans for the paper?

A deep sadness drove her to fall into a kitchen chair, carrying the strawberries and whipped cream with her. Was she truly outdated? Was there no place for her in this
unbrave
new reality world?

She played the evening in her mind, like watching the scenes in
Groundhog Day
repeated over and over. How could she have changed it for a better outcome? The intangible connection she felt for David had deepened tonight. She knew he had depth and compassion from the way he conducted his life after his wife died and the glimpses of it she saw tonight. He was a man of strong character. If she appealed to that, perhaps she could change his mind about the direction he planned to take the paper.

Finally having a plan, she warmed to the idea, deciding it would strengthen David’s moral fiber if he opened his mind to new possibilities instead of the current rage for shock journalism. Plus she’d be doing a good deed for all her writing colleagues who couldn’t get work because no scripts were required for reality shows.

But what should be her first move? Every womanly instinct told her she challenged and intrigued him. There was power in that for her. Unfortunately, he intrigued her, which gave him power. Plus he was her boss. Unfair advantage in this battle of wills.

Smiling, she licked another strawberry while visions of sparring with David for his own good, and hers, danced through her head.

Chapter 11

R
ebecca was so accustomed to her usual Monday morning disasters she felt mildly let down when she arrived at the
Daily Mail
and no one waited to sabotage her in the lobby. Where was David? Thoughts of how to put her plan in motion had kept her awake most of the night. If David was intrigued with her, then he would be more likely to actually
listen
to her about the future of the paper.

Today, Pauline, busy taking calls at the switchboard, merely waved at her. On the landing, Rebecca glanced down the short executive hall. Maybella was totally engrossed with work and didn’t bother to throw Rebecca her usual morning scowl.

She arrived at her desk and sat down.
Where is everyone? I’m ready for action. It feels like being all dressed up with nowhere to go.

She heard David’s voice and then Kate’s, growing louder. As they came around the corner from the newsroom, David’s eyes locked with Rebecca’s. The air around them crackled with sexual tension.

We’re still intrigued.

She smiled in relief, then caught herself, making her face go blank.

“Good morning, Rebecca.” Kate appeared flustered, running her fingers through her very short white hair, causing it to spike on top.

It’s a great look for her. I must tell her.

There was a look of fondness in Kate’s eyes as she gazed at her inadequate cubicle. “David is planning to update my work space.”

Coolly assessing Kate’s cramped alcove, David’s gaze fell on Rebecca’s desk. “How is your work area, Rebecca?”

She arched, rubbing her lower back. “My chiropractor was recently able to buy a second home.”

His lips curled in amusement, just as she had hoped. “I’ll see what I can do about that.” He strolled away, his confident walk somewhere between a swagger and just plain sexy. Rebecca could hear him joking with Joe in Sports as he worked his way through the newsroom.

“David is taking me to dinner tonight at RL’s to discuss business,” Kate said quietly.

“
Our
business? Home and Food?” No need to fake being solemn now. Kate’s flushed face was worrying her.

“Something else. I can’t talk about it just yet. I must look a mess.” Kate dropped her hand from worrying her hair.

“Actually, it’s a great look for you. Cultivate it.”

For the first time, Kate smiled. “You’re good for me, Rebecca. I wish you could be there tonight.”

“I will be . . . kind of. I agreed to have dinner with George at RL’s tonight. But I don’t want to make you and David uncomfortable. Maybe we should change restaurants.”

“Please don’t. If I need help, you’ll be within shouting distance.”

Really
worried now, Rebecca decided to pry. “Do you have any idea what David wants to talk about?”

“I’m afraid I do.” With that cryptic remark, Kate disappeared into her tiny cavelike office.

Really, really worried,
Rebecca followed her to make sure the bottle of Prozac Kate always kept on her desk next to her Pulitzer was still there.

Her poker face back on, Kate peered up at her. “I’m fine. You don’t need to mother me the way you do Pauline.”

Relieved that everything appeared normal, Rebecca pretended to be indignant. “Mother Pauline? Have you seen what a disciplinarian she is with Patty and Polly? I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Kate’s slow smile took away any sting. “I appreciate that you care about all of us. If I need you, I’ll let you know tonight.”

That night, ready if she was needed, Rebecca sat tensely on the edge of one of the prized corner banquettes at RL’s. She had a perfect view of the wide door leading from the wood-paneled bar into the dark green wainscoted dining room full of paintings and brass.
Totally Ralph Lauren lifestyle setting.

“Looking for someone?” George asked, giving her his trademark squinty-eyed smile.

“I am. The new owner of the paper, David Sumner, and my editor, Kate Carmichael. They’re having dinner here tonight.”

“You’re not going to ask them to join us, are you?” He asked with such a little boy pout she almost laughed.

“No. They’re having a business dinner.”

“Good.” He reached across the table with his palms up.

Not wanting to be rude, Rebecca placed her hands on his. As she knew he would, he began to play with her fingers.

“It’s been too long since I’ve had you to myself, Rebecca.”

Tonight his playfulness was tickling her. Resisting the urge to wiggle away, she clasped his hands together to stop him. “George, you are tenacious.”

“Always. When I want something,” he uttered, staring intently into her eyes.

You are so good-looking and so young.
“George, you
do
know I’m actually
more
than ten years older than you?”

“Yeah, I read the papers.” He kissed the inside of her left wrist. “I think it’s sexy.”

Over his shoulder, she saw David standing in the doorway. Their eyes locked and shock sizzled along every nerve. Embarrassed to be caught holding hands with George, she pulled away. “Behave,” she scolded. “My bosses just walked through the door.”

The instant David’s gaze swept the room, he found Rebecca holding hands with some young guy. The tightness in his chest surprised him.

A feeling of tremendous urgency drove him to lead Kate across the room to Rebecca’s table. David smiled, eager to make trouble. “I just came by to say hello. I know I shouldn’t be interrupting this charming outing, but, well, here I am.” He held out his hand. “Hello. I’m David Sumner.” He said, almost word for word, what Rebecca had uttered the first night they met.

Blushing, Rebecca threw him a quick stunned glance. “George, this is Kate Carmichael, my editor, and David Sumner, the new owner of the paper.” She sounded calm, even though her eyes were shooting bullets at him for his tit for tat. Just like she’d done last night at dinner when she’d ripped into him about the newspaper. He’d spent half the night pacing his suite, mulling over everything they’d said to each other and trying to figure out why the hell he couldn’t think of anything else.

George stood to shake hands. “Nice to meet you both.”

David found the guy’s handshake weak. Although it was obvious George worked out, he needed ab work. He had a hint of a beer gut coming.

David felt Kate grip his arm.

“Our table is ready, David. We should go. Have a nice evening, Rebecca.” Kate said in her brisk, matter-of-fact way.

David looked long and deep into Rebecca’s angry eyes before he allowed Kate to lead him away. He knew it was time to go. Now that he finally admitted to himself the tightness in his chest was jealousy, he sure as hell needed to take a step back. He had always been rigid in his rule never to mix business and pleasure, and he was too set in his ways to change now.

Rebecca’s view of David’s face was blocked by the waiter placing beef tenderloin and grilled asparagus in front of her. She tried to concentrate on her food but kept flashing back to David’s cool appraisal. She didn’t have an
exact
script to make David see the errors of his ways, but
this
development was spinning all her plans out of control.

During dinner, Rebecca tried really hard to listen to George’s stories about mergers and acquisitions, and his plan to teach weight lifting at the local youth center. It was
too
rude to keep glancing over his shoulder to watch David and Kate, who seemed involved in intense conversation.

When Kate walked past and gave Rebecca a long, beseeching look
,
she jumped to her feet, nearly toppling her half-full champagne flute. “Please excuse me, George. I’ll be right back.”

She met Kate in the small wood-paneled back hall, in front of the elevator to the ladies’ lounge below. Two other diners were also waiting, so Rebecca had no choice but to hold her tongue, even though Kate looked ashen, until they reached the lower hallway, where the others went into the restroom.

“What happened? Are you all right?” Rebecca whispered, shifting in front of Kate to shield her from any curious onlookers coming off the elevator.

“David wants to add a weekly feature on women and finance.” Kate ran her fingers restlessly through her hair. “He wants me to write it.”

Suddenly Kate appeared incredibly fragile. Worried, Rebecca thought hard about the best way to respond. “Kate, is the extra responsibility too much for you on top of everything you do for Home and Food?”

“David wants me to shift some of the workload onto you.”

“Me?”
Rebecca shrieked. A woman coming out of the restroom gave her an odd look before stepping into the elevator.

Kate shook her head. “I know you have no plans to stay in the Home and Food section for any longer than necessary.”

Seeing how scared Kate looked, Rebecca knew what she needed to do. “Of course, I’ll do whatever helps you for as long as you need me.”

“I told David I needed time to think about his offer.” To Rebecca’s shock, Kate gave her a quick, intense hug. “Thank you, Rebecca. I feel calmer after talking to you.”

Unlike Pauline, who wore her emotions on her sleeve, Kate held hers close. This unexpected show of affection was a clear sign Kate needed help. Rebecca vowed to give her whatever she needed, no matter what happened.