Spring River Valley: The Spring Collection (Boxed Set) (11 page)

“No. Janet, that story…was never supposed to be published. I wrote it just to…
I don’t know why I wrote it. But I meant to delete it. It got into your in-box by mistake.”

Janet paled. “You mean it’s not true? Annette Drummond didn’t—”

“The facts are true. At least that’s how I heard them, but I had no right to put them in print. I betrayed someone’s trust and wrote about something that was told to me in confidence. Seeing my name on the front page can’t make up for that. In fact, it makes it worse.”

“So, Annette Drummond
did
say—”

“Janet, I’m telling you I’m done. I can’t do this anymore if it means I have to—”

“Do what? Sell newspapers? Tell the truth?” Janet met Evie’s gaze. “I don’t know what kind of grief you’ve been given about this story, but listen to me, Evie. Up until yesterday, Annette Drummond was being painted as a jealous, conniving, murderous bitch who would have rather killed herself and her married boyfriend than share him with his wife and three kids, not to mention all of his political constituents. This morning, there’s a new angle. She may very well be the victim in this, the woman who was strung along by a powerful man. Your story could make a difference in how this whole mess plays out for her.”

“The information I wrote about would have come out anyway. The EMT I heard it from told a Stanton police detective the whole story last night.”

“And the detective certainly wasn’t going to talk to the press, so the facts might not have been made public until the case went to court. Look, I’m not going to pretend what we do is always heroic, but hon, don’t beat yourself up over doing your job. You’re a reporter, and when people tell you things, they have to realize—”

“What, that I might use it against them?”

“No, that it’s your job to report the news. You did that. You don’t need to make excuses or apologies.”

“I meant to delete the article. I hurt someone I care about because I was careless and too caught up
in daydreaming about seeing my name under a front-page headline.”

Janet rose, her voice soft, but her expression drenched in disapproval. “You’re a good reporter
, with the potential to be a great one. If you want to quit now, on your best day, leave your resignation on my desk, but I can’t guarantee I won’t tear it up. Before you throw away your career, think about this.” Janet paused to lean on the table, her face even with Evie’s, her gaze steely. “You’ve been sending articles to me for a long time, and you know how to delete things. There aren’t any accidents. So ask yourself how
careless
you really were.”

Janet straightened and left the break room, the door slamming shut behind her.

Evie stared after her editor, her mood as fragile as shattered glass. Janet’s parting words had been meant to teach her a lesson. For all her protests, hadn’t she desperately wanted a headline? How could she ever ask for Tanner’s forgiveness with the truth staring her in the face?

She’d proven herself to be the journalist she’d always dreamed of being, the one who put the story above all else.

Too bad the disaster her life had become wasn’t going to make front-page news.

* * * *

The knock on Tanner’s door roused him from his brooding. He set the beer he’d been nursing for the past hour on the coffee table and crossed to the door. After opening the chain lock and the door, he turned and headed back to the couch without acknowledging his visitor.

Taylor entered the apartment, a
dry-cleaning bag slung over his shoulder. “Nice to see you too,” he deadpanned, deliberately walking between Tanner and the muted television. He hung the bag from the half-open bedroom door. “You forgot to take the tux the other day.”

“Oh, yeah. I got a call and had to leave before I found it. Thanks.”

“I had it cleaned.”

“I’ll pay you back.”

“Forget it.”

Silence hung between them for a long time during which Tanner concentrated on the voiceless newscast he’d been staring at. Taylor stood by the window, arms crossed
, managing to look more like their father than he had a right to at his age. “I suppose the double date is off.”

Tanner let out a barking laugh. “How did you find out?”

“You mean besides reading the paper? Quinn told me. I called him to see how he was doing, and he told me how things went between you and Evie.”

“There’s nothing between me and Evie.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too. And I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Did you take a lot of heat from Gary?”

“Not as much as I expected.”

Taylor sighed. “It seems like everything in the article was speculation, no real facts. And the speculation was based on rumors that were going around town anyway.”

“So
what are you saying?”

“I’m just saying, maybe you should talk to her.”

“Maybe.”

“But you’re not going to.”

“Not right now.”

“Suit yourself.” Taylor looked around the dark apartment. “When you’re ready to come out of your cave, call me.”

“It may be a while.”

Taylor crossed the room and opened the door to let himself out. “That’s all right. I’ve got plenty of time.”

“I can’t believe you’re still going to the bachelor auction,” Evie forced her lips into a wry grin. She hadn’t felt much like smiling for the past week, but the idea of terminally shy Bailey bidding on a man at the charity auction did manage to lift her otherwise deadened spirits.

“I can’t believe you’re not. I thought it was your assignment.” Bailey slowed her pace so Evie could once again catch up during their Saturday morning run.

“No more
Lifestyle pieces for me. After Janet tore up my resignation, she put me on the City Hall beat. Besides, I don’t think I’ll find the man for me in a bachelor auction.” Her voice cracked a little on the word, and she covered the momentary lapse with a cough.

The man for her was no longer speaking to her, and she had no desire to find someone else only to have her already aching heart broken again. She hadn’t seen Tanner since she’d walked out of his apartment, and he hadn’t called. Each day that passed since their last wrenching conversation added a layer to the hard shell forming around her heart. He wasn’t going to forgive her for leaking the story about Annette Drummond, and with Janet working diligently to convince her there was nothing wrong with what she’d done, she’d decided she’d probably been better off in the first place, concentrating on her career and leaving love and romance to those who could be trusted to put someone else’s feelings and needs above their own.

“Come on, it’s for a good cause,” Bailey prompted.

“I’ll write a check to the hospital
for the fund raiser—”

“That’s not what I mean. Not that the children’s wing isn’t a good cause, but I’m talking about the ‘Let’s get Bailey a man project.’ Don’t you want in on that?”

Evie almost laughed. If her heart didn’t hurt so badly, she might have managed a dry chuckle, but all that came out was a wistful sigh. “That is a good cause. How about I make my donation check out to you so you can afford whichever guy you want?”

“I’d say no if it wasn’t for the kids…but okay…as long as you don’t let me get carried away.”

“I’m still going to pass on the festivities if you don’t mind.”

“
Oh, come on. Don’t make me go alone.”

“You above all people should understand my need to take a break and regroup.”

Bailey’s smile faded. “Have you tried to call him?”

“I’ve dialed his number a few times, but what do I say? Sorry isn’t good enough. I wrote the article. I can’t deny that. And Janet made a point. My subconscious sent it to her rather than the trash bin because I
wanted
the headline. I have to live with that.”

In the days following Evie’s article, Senator Diele had left his wife for Annette Drummond. Any pending charges against her had been dropped, but whether that was due to Evie’s article or the police investigation was anyone’s guess. Either way, it wasn’t enough, in Evie’s mind, to justify her actions. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” she said, breaking into a slow
jog again. “Whether I really meant to do it or not, it’s done. I hurt Tanner, and I don’t expect him to get over it.”

Bailey eyed her sidelong as the caught up. “The question is, will you get over it?”

Evie shrugged. “Some things you never get over.”

“I’m going to be a little late for movie night,” Evie told Emerson over the phone as she strolled through the parking lot at Landry’s Dock. “I have to run an errand for Bailey.”

The aroma of buttery lobster and fried shrimp greeted Evie when she entered the front door of the restaurant
, and she paused a moment to enjoy the scent. She’d been looking forward to pizza at Emerson’s apartment and a rented comedy, but before she reached the white-jacketed maître d’, she was entertaining the idea of ordering a couple of seafood platters to go, just to give girls’ night a boost.

“After this, I’m stopping at…” she paused to whisper the next words so the Landry’s staff members wouldn’t hear. “Taverna Fiora to get some chicken soup for Bailey. I can’t believe she wasn’t kidding when she said she was coming down with a cold. It’s killing her that she has to postpone her charity auction date.”

“Why do you have to meet the guy to cancel? Can’t she just call him?”

“Laryngitis.
She sent me all these instructions by text. I’m just going to wait here until he shows up and see if he’s willing to try again next week. It’s a shame, she paid over seven hundred dollars for this date—well,
we
did. I let her bid with my donation too. I hope she got our money’s worth.”

“I hope the guy is understanding
about having to cancel at the last minute.”

“He volunteered his time to raise money for sick kids, I’m sure he’s got a heart of gold. Keep the pizza warm, I should be at your place in forty
-five minutes. Hey, what do you say to a bucket of shrimp? They have a to-go menu.”

“You had me at bucket. Girls
’ night is the perfect time for any kind of food that comes in a big cardboard vat.”

Evie managed to laugh. She’d pushed thoughts of Tanner so far out of her mind that her life was actually starting to go back to normal. That didn’t necessarily mean her heart would ever heal, but at least on the outside she could pull off the illusion of being okay. “Vat of shrimp it is.”

She hung up with Emerson and approached the maître d’. The man had the audacity to scan her from head to foot with a disapproving eye. Jeans, work boots, and a brown leather jacket weren’t exactly proper attire for a lady at an upscale place like Landry’s, but she’d just come from interviewing an engineer down by the Harbor Bridge, and until she’d received Bailey’s texts, she hadn’t planned on going anywhere near a sophisticated restaurant after work. She held up a hand to stave off his protest. “I’m not here for a reservation. I’m actually here to cancel one. You should have something under Cole, for two at seven thirty.”

The man angled his jaundiced gaze at the reservation book. “Yes, the gentleman is already here. He’s waiting in the bar. Shall I ask him to come to the lobby?”

Evie glanced at her thick boots. “Nah, I’ll just go in and find him myself.” She grinned and pivoted herself toward the dark recesses of the restaurant’s bar. Halfway inside the dim interior she realized Bailey hadn’t texted her the name of the man she’d won at the auction.

She certainly didn’t want to go back to the lobby and ask the snooty ma
ître d’ for help, so she headed for the bar. To his credit, the bartender, also in a white jacket, didn’t so much as flutter an eyelash at her outfit. “What can I get you, miss?” he asked.

“I’m looking for someone who’s here to meet Ms. Cole. Reservations for
seven thirty.”

“Yeah, he’s over there.” The bartender pointed a small bistro table in the corner. A dark-haired man sat with his back to Evie.

“Thanks.” She strode toward the table and had made it halfway there when déjà vu struck. She remembered walking across Tanner’s apartment the morning she’d left. He’d been sitting at his kitchen table in the same position as he sat now.

Her pace slowed.
The tilt of his head and the set of his broad shoulders was the same, but this time there was no tension in his muscles. He looked completely relaxed in a navy suit jacket, a glass of what looked like lemon soda with a twist of lime sitting on the table before him.

He was obviously ready for his date, and she wondered if he knew Bailey was the one who’d won him.

In a split second a thousand scenarios went through her mind. He certainly didn’t want to see her. Did she want to see him? Did she want to apologize, or was it too late to try to salvage any of their relationship? She still worked for the paper, and she planned to keep her job now that she covered city hall. She considered turning around and tiptoeing away, leaving a message with the bartender.