Talk of the Town (31 page)

Tears of relief pooled at the back of her throat when Harry’s frown curved into a cocky smile worthy of his hero, Rupert Everett.

“It’s true. I have freshened the faces of much of Chicago.”

Rebecca turned to Pauline. “Sweetheart, I’m not deserting you. We can do secret dinners where you can tell me what the competition is doing.”

“Mr. Porter will die when he finds out Mr. Bartholomew stole you away. So will Maybella and Shannon.” At that, a smile brightened Pauline’s face. “The place will go to Hades without you. We’ll miss you so much, won’t we, Kate?”

Knowing she was burdening Kate when she was so vulnerable made Rebecca feel small. She wished there had been another way out.

“Don’t look like you failed, Rebecca,” Kate said briskly. “You’ve seized your personal power. As I must retrieve mine. I have your Christmas recipe scheduled for next Sunday’s edition. I’m still running it. Moving forward, I believe I will take your excellent advice and use celebrity food columnists. Harry, are you interested?”

He bowed his head. “It will be my pleasure. I can’t imagine why you’d ever want another celebrity besides me.”

Their laughter broke something free inside Rebecca. Their worlds were spinning in new, exciting ways. New challenges. New choices. Fresh beginnings. Good at any age.

“Sweet pea, now tell us what happened with David?” Harry asked in his kindest voice.

She didn’t want to think about David. She wanted to think about her new job. Moving into her new office. Christmas shopping. Anything and everything except David.

“I really, truly don’t want to talk about him,” she said at last.

They looked at her with such compassion she was afraid in another few minutes she’d start crying on
all
their shoulders.

“I
will
say I’m now ready to embrace a
real
relationship if I get the chance. Even though David isn’t ‘the one’ for me, he did open my heart to the possibility there may be someone out there. I realize my chances of this happening at forty-five are slim, but you never know.” She shrugged, struggling before their pointed silence. “Of course we all know there’s not just
one
person for anyone. I’m talking about someone I connect with. Not someone I think might complete me. Because God knows I have to be a whole person to even know how to really love. But someone who complements me. Together we’re more powerful, more alive than apart.” Realizing she was babbling, she shut her mouth.

“Are you sure Mr. Sumner isn’t ‘the one’?” Pauline asked softly.

Desperate not to answer so she wouldn’t be forced to lie, Rebecca looked wildly to Harry for support.

“I wonder the same thing, sweet pea.”

Kate nodded. “I must agree with them, Rebecca. What I observed between you and David seemed real.”

Looking into their determined faces, she knew the time for hiding was done. Only the truth would end this. “All right! The truth. I love you all to death and know you love me. But David doesn’t. Told me so in his own inimitable way. End of story. Satisfied?”

It was strangely comforting in her fragile state to see the disbelief on their faces. She’d felt the same way last night.

But they were all wrong.

CHICAGO DAILY MAIL SUNDAY FOOD

GROT (A FAMILY HOLIDAY TRADITION)

1 quart whole milk

½ cup long-grain rice

Salt to taste

In a double boiler, add milk and rice. Keep on low heat and cover. Stir occasionally and add more milk when necessary. Heat must be kept very low so it does not burn at bottom. Cook for about 3 hours so that rice is very tender. Add salt to taste. Serve with cinnamon and sugar and cream. Serves 8.

A Note from Rebecca Covington

This incredibly rich, sinfully delicious rice dessert was served every December 24 at my grandmother’s house, when the entire family of cousins, aunts, and uncles, plus friends, was present.

A faux gold ring was placed in one bowl. The lucky recipient was destined to be the next bride or groom in the coming year.

My cousin Brandon was so enchanted with the legend that he arranged to place the diamond engagement ring for his beloved in her bowl.

Unfortunately, she swallowed the small gem with her first spoonful of grot.

Never fear, all ended happily with a beautiful wedding. Although the ring had to be retrieved in a way that does not bear mentioning.

May your holidays be as happy.

Enjoy!

Xo Rebecca

Chapter 23

T
he next day, Rebecca sent her letter of resignation to the newspaper by courier.

Later in the afternoon she received back all her personal belongings from the office and a formal severance letter signed by David. The letter and the mementoes represented the end of another life stage. Should she label the last fifteen years at the
Daily Mail
the “maturing stage”? Getting her to the point she wasn’t afraid to take a chance on a new life?

She looked down at David’s small, neat handwriting and remembered the last memo from him.

She cried for ten minutes.

Her mood had been shifting back and forth since the lunch at Kate’s. One minute she felt happy with her choices. The next moment guilty and scared. Then the next, eager to start her new job on January 1. New year. New life.

Now, as she looked down at David’s signature, the bright future dissolved into a barren stretch of meaningless days for the rest of her life.

She felt hot. Cold. Happy. Sad. Who would have thought a broken heart would have the same symptoms as a midlife crisis and perimenopause?

She was saved from utter misery by the rapidly approaching Christmas holidays. She indulged in an orgy of shopping every day for everyone she knew. Butcher, baker, gourmet food maker, all benefited from her burning need to stay super busy so she wouldn’t have time to think. Every night she arrived home laden with packages to fall exhausted into bed.

Three days before the Chicago Media annual black-tie holiday dinner, she treated herself to a long strapless gold silk beaded gown she’d admired in the window at Luca Luca, thus keeping her promise given so long ago to Simone, the manager, that they could dress her for her television show. That day on Oak Street, she’d been spinning stories to save face. Now it had come true. This media party was to be her
unofficial
launch as “Ask Rebecca” and Sunday’s “Talk of the Town” for the
Journal and Courier
and the television segments. She wanted to dazzle. She
needed
to dazzle to keep her courage up. After all, David was invited to the party.

For the last few weeks she’d lived in constant anticipation of running into him. In some ways, Chicago was a small town at heart. Often the same people went to the same places at the same time.

Whenever the phone rang, she felt a rush of fearful excitement. Was it David? If he called, would she answer?

But his call never came.

At the end of every day while David pored over balance sheets, stock reports, and legal documents, he was wracked by such a need to hear Rebecca’s voice he had to get up and pace the room to keep from picking up the phone. His mind froze in panic. How could he hang on to his protective armor when he searched for her face everywhere he went?

Then the need would pass and he’d go back to work with speed and diligence, using it like he always had to cover his pain.

Tonight, staring at himself in the mirror, fumbling, trying to adjust his tux tie, the pain was razor sharp again.

For weeks he’d beaten himself up with the knowledge that there was no future for them. But tonight was the true test.

Tonight, he’d see her.

It scared the hell out of him.

The night of the media party she had her glossy and elegant look down pat, her cool and in-control attitude in place.

The Ritz Carlton at the holidays shone like a gaily trimmed Christmas tree. Lights. Flowers. An array of beautifully wrapped partygoers.

The split-level ballroom was one of the smaller ones in the pecking order of hotels vying for social events, making it perfect for this more intimate party. There couldn’t have been more than a hundred people drinking and talking and milling around when she walked in.

As she stood on the wide upper level, Rebecca’s gaze immediately found David, dressed in a tux and standing across the floor in front of the orchestra. She looked away, feeling dizzy, terrified, excited, confused, and guilty all at the same time.

She sneaked another peek at David’s face. At some point in her life she would have to apologize for slapping him, but she didn’t have the strength to do it now.

Watching David talking and laughing, she was reminded of every kiss those smooth lips had given her.

I’m not sure I can do this tonight.
She turned to walk out and get some fresh air or hide in the ladies’ lounge for a while.

In her rush to leave, she nearly stepped on the hem of Martha Bartholomew’s purple gown. She and Charlie were blocking Rebecca’s escape.

“You look lovely, Rebecca. Doesn’t she, Charlie?” Martha gushed.

The red plaid vest barely containing Charlie’s stomach shook with his chuckle. “As befittin’ our new star. Everyone here tonight already knows our news. Big things start happenin’ tonight for you, Rebecca.”

Charlie, who was known to never look away from the person he had engaged in conversation, shifted his eyes to a point over Rebecca’s shoulder. “David, my boy, how are you?”

They were standing in the middle of the landing, so there was no way for David to pass them unnoticed or ignore Charlie’s greeting.

Rebecca’s knees began to shake under her gown. She pressed her thighs together to keep her body still. She struggled to appear cool and confident. With a last hope she could get through this with her pride intact, she turned to him.

“Good evening, Charlie. Martha.” David’s voice was as formal as his expression. He glanced briefly at her. “Rebecca.”

“Hello, David,” she said softly. She was holding herself together so tightly she trembled from the effort.

Could he tell?

Martha’s sharp, small eyes darted from her to David.

Charlie clasped David’s shoulder. “No hard feelings that I snatched Rebecca away, is there, my boy? You understand good business.”

Through narrowed eyes, David finally looked fully at her, his face still expressionless. “I found Rebecca to be all about business.”

“Yes, indeed. She’s quite the businesswoman. Don’t mind tellin’ you, now. She kept me danglin’ for months.” Charlie sounded pained but looked extremely pleased with himself. “Thought I’d lost out. I offered her the moon! Her own column and television show. But she turned it all down out of loyalty to you and the paper. Made me more eager than ever to have her join us.”

“Interesting.” David’s eyes widened and became strangely watchful. “So, Charlie, how long ago did you start trying to steal my staff?”

Rebecca felt like a specimen they were discussing. Like a social butterfly. Pinned through the heart.

“You remember, my boy. The night of the Culinary Cook-off I warned you I was mighty impressed with Rebecca. I contacted her shortly afterward.”

The change that came over David’s face made it hard for her to breathe, and the sound around her faded into the distance. Like so many other times, she felt they were the only two people in the room.

I need to get out of here before I make a fool of myself.
She hoped her smile didn’t look as awkward and stiff as it felt. “Please excuse me. I see someone I must say hello to.” Before anyone tried to stop her, she bolted toward the door.

Her eyes flashing, Rebecca swung away. To David, she looked scared, and his chest tightened with tenderness.

He had been right to be afraid to see her. His mind reeled with reaction after weeks of fighting his feelings for her. Accepting that there was no future for them had been wrong. Just as he’d been wrong to push aside his emotions, pouring his energy into his work to keep from living his life to the fullest.

He’d made a terrible mistake that day in his office. He didn’t need Charlie’s confession to tell him he’d been a fool to doubt Rebecca. All his actions had been his last-ditch effort to protect himself. Seeing her again made it impossible to hide from the truth any longer. The last vestige of his armor fell away.

He might be a stupid, frightened fool who didn’t deserve this beautiful, strong, courageous, loyal woman. But she was his, and he would fight to make her see it was true.

“Rebecca!”

He knew she heard, but she ignored him, walking quickly out into the small hallway. He could see the defiance in the way she thrust up her chin.

She dashed into the closest open door, and he followed. It was a small room with a bar for the overflow during cocktails.

“Rebecca!” At last he was able to touch her bare shoulder. She looked up, shock darkening her eyes. He knew he had this moment of grace, here in public, with half the media in Chicago watching.

“We need to talk.” His fingers slid down to her arm, holding it gently, determined never to let her go. “We need to go somewhere private. I need to explain so much. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I—”

“Stop, David!” Rebecca demanded.

She looked vulnerable and hurt. David ached with love for her. He deserved whatever anger she threw at him. He’d take it. They had the rest of their lives to make up.

She had to stop him before it was too late. His serious, sensual expression and his words sent such heat rising up from her tight chest she felt weak, light-headed, and breathless.

Escape was the cure. But first she needed to apologize, too, and then they would both have closure.

She thrust her chin higher in the air. “I want to apologize, too. For slapping you. My loss of control is inexcusable. If you’d struck me, I would have had you arrested.”

A faint smile curled his mouth. “You don’t pack much of a wallop. Your angle was too low—I barely felt it. Is it true you originally turned down Charlie out of loyalty to the paper and me? It’s everything professionally I could offer you and more.”