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  Throughout the remainder of the meeting, she kept her focus averted. A difficult exercise. Her eyes seemed to be drawn to him, magnetically pulled in his direction, but she couldn’t risk any further embarrassment.

  She rested her head in her hand and closed her eyes to steady herself. When she reopened them, she met Ben’s eyes for an instant. She sat straight and adjusted her notebook, but the meeting was wrapping up. People were standing and milling toward the door.

  Standing, she slung her handbag over her shoulder, and gathered her notepad and pen. Finally, an escape from this torture. She turned too quickly and bumped into someone.

  “Sorry.” She looked into Ben’s smiling face. His hands were warm on her arms. His eyes mirrored the morning light. The play of a smile curved his lips.

  He let his hands slide away. “Hi. I wanted to introduce myself, properly this time.”

  Was he kidding? Introduce himself? A year ago, his tongue had introduced itself to hers. “Right. A proper introduction. Is only proper.”

  At a few feet away, the doorway was so close, and yet so far. Just like him.

  She shifted her stance. If they were going to work together, she had to know for sure whether he remembered. “So you’ve won some awards?”

  He ducked his head. “A few. Associated Press, National Photojournalists Association, both state associations.”

  She fought to keep her face a blank. “The Pennsylvania Newspaper Association annual award?” The event you invited me to escape from last year?

  “Yes, first place for the past four years.”

  The only emotion she detected in his voice was pride.

  “Oh? Were you at the ceremony last year?” She hugged her notepad to her chest.

  His tone was matter of fact. “Never miss them.”

  She set her jaw and nodded. No hint of pretense. He didn’t recall her, at least not specifically. Maybe to him, she was that bimbo he’d picked up. Thank God it had gone no further.

  “Well, it’s a pleasure having such a talent on board.” She stood to her full height. She’d remembered him as taller, but in one-inch heels, his head was, at most, an inch above hers.

  His wide eyes still exuded innocence. “Thanks. I’m sure I have a lot to learn. But then, I’m sure you’ll teach me what I need to know.”

  The conference room felt too small, the air too thick. “I’m sure we all will.”

  A slow smile crept across his face. “Yes, that’s what I meant.”

  Her neck and cheeks warmed with a blush. “So, what brings you to Harrisburg?” She made her way out into the newsroom.

  “Personal reasons. Anyway, I look forward to working with you. I’ve read a lot of your articles. Very interesting.” His mouth curled, a cross between a smirk and a smile.

  “Interesting?” Possibly not a compliment, but a slight. “How so?”

  His face lit up. “Thought provoking.”

  Something in the way he said it made her hesitate to probe further. She got the impression her articles made him ask himself why he bothered to read on.

  The urge to bolt grew strong. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to meet with Claudia.” A friendly face, the voice of reason. Yes, that’s what she needed.

  “Sure.” As she walked away, he called, “Let me know about the interview.”

  Dread filled her all over again. He’d be going with her.

  “Yes, as soon as that’s set up, I’ll let you know.” She called over her shoulder.

  Her heels thudded along the worn carpet to the end of the newsroom, where Claudia’s office door stood open. With a quick knock on the door, she went in and closed it behind her.

  She plopped into the chair in front of the desk. “Just shoot me now.”

  Claudia continued typing. “It will be fine.”

  Mentally scrutinizing the details of their meeting, she gripped the arm of the chair tighter. “It’s totally humiliating. I don’t even think he remembers.”

  Her editor glanced over. “Then there’s nothing to be humiliated about. It’s perfect.”

  Her fingers drummed the chair arms. “Unless he’s pretending not to remember, which makes me look pathetic.” She rested an elbow on the edge of the desk. “How can he not remember hitting on me for an hour, and making out with me for the next two hours?”

  “Maybe he’s repressing it because his fiancée busted him on it. In any case, if anyone should feel badly, it’s him. Not you.”

  Claudia’s affirmation didn’t make Sydney feel any more loved, though she appreciated her editor’s friendship. “Or maybe I’ll adapt Unforgettable into my new theme song, I’m Forgettable. The bigger question is – why is he here?”

  “No,” Claudia faced her, finally. “There is no bigger question. It’s time for you to let it go and move on, Syd.”

  Silence filled the space between them. The truth of it came clear.

  “You’re right.” Sydney pushed herself up from the chair. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve spent too much time and energy on an unsolvable question. Thanks, Claudia. You always put things in perspective.” Always edited her, in life as well as in writing, she wanted to add.

  “Good girl. Get that interview with the mayor. And don’t forget to bring Ben when you go.”

  Sydney’s newfound steely resolve waffled a little, but she didn’t argue. Wouldn’t. From now on, Ben Taylor would be simply the new employee, the rookie photographer.

  As she walked through the newsroom, Ben talked with another photographer in the next aisle. His brown belt cinched his jeans, which contoured to his rear and legs as if made for him. Why did the rookie have to look so damn good?

  “Look at you, checking out the new guy.” Louann had stolen up behind her.

  “Hey. What’s up.” Sydney tossed her notepad on her desk and sat.

  Her finger pushed Sydney’s Hawaiian dancing girl figurine to swaying. “You were too busy looking.” On the last word, she widened her eyes teasingly.

  “I can look.” Sydney swiveled her chair as if carefree. Louann’s sports talk taught her the best defense was a good offense. “I’m not the one who has to stare into a muscle man’s eyes while he peels off his sweaty uniform down to his glistening skin. You’re jealous I can look when I feel like it. And where.”

  Her friend laughed, bringing out her deep dimples. “A hazard of all women sportswriters. Editors frown upon wandering eyes. Even though the jocks kinda like it.”

  Louann’s job required strict mental discipline. How she worked in those conditions, Sydney couldn’t imagine.

  Louann leaned against the desk. “So, what did you think?”

  “Of him?” Sydney glanced his way; he packed lenses into his camera bag. “I don’t know. Nice one minute, then he throws in a zinger. He’s a puzzle.” His selective amnesia puzzled her most. And his comment about her articles still bothered her. Maybe he’d meant to insult her, to throw a barrier between them so she wouldn’t want a replay of last year.

  Louann’s gaze followed him out the door. She clucked her tongue in appreciation. “Nice ass, though.”

  Sydney clicked open her email. “You noticed too?”

  Her friend laughed. “I knew you were checking him out.” She walked away, then turned. “So lunch later?”

  Papers and notes scattered her desktop. Her To Do list felt backlogged after this morning’s meetings. “Doubtful, now. Sorry. I had an unexpected setback, and need to catch up.”

  Louann shrugged. “Maybe tomorrow then. I have some catching up to do myself. Later.”

  Sydney flipped through the stack of papers on her desk. She thought she had printed the mayor’s itinerary for the week. She picked up the phone and dialed his office. The receptionist put her through to Ellen, the mayor’s press secretary.

  “Hi, it’s Sydney from the Harrisburg News.”

  Ellen’s voice was honey, sticky sweet through the receiver. “How are you?”

  Ellen used the same tack on everyone, as if they were all
old, dear friends. In reality, she skirted direct questions with vague replies, spewing stock answers reserved for amateurs. Sydney avoided dealing with her whenever possible. The woman was a time vacuum, sucking away precious minutes when deadlines loomed. Beneath her charm school exterior laid a conniving, devious shrew that relied on sweetness to divert her opponents’ attention. The method might work on men, but Sydney saw through her.

  “Great. I was hoping to get an interview with Mayor Reeves before his swearing in. It’d be a great lead-in to inform people about the mayor’s strategy for the upcoming term.”

  “What an excellent idea. Let me check his schedule. I’ll just be a sec.”

  Music from the local radio station sounded over the phone while Sydney waited on hold. Soft rock – an odd choice for a politician. Maybe he was aiming to please the thirty to fifty demographic.

  A spam email appeared in her in-box, so she deleted it. An old message from Claudia asked how things were going. In her reply, Sydney asked, what time is happy hour again?

  The Beatles harmonized beep beep m beep beep yeah to introduce the noon traffic report. She hummed along, and the music ended.

  Ellen’s voice pierced her ear. “Sally?”

  Sydney repressed a growl The woman could never get it right, unless it was another diversionary tactic. “It’s Sydney.”

  “The mayor can fit in an interview tomorrow afternoon at four thirty. He has a banquet tomorrow night, so he won’t be able to give you more than thirty minutes.”

  “That’s perfect. Thanks so much.” She hung up.

  Ben’s desk stood empty. She told Hal, the assignment editor, about the interview and asked him to pass the meeting information along. At her desk, she pulled up old files from the mayor’s previous term and began taking notes for interview ideas. Next thing she knew, the day crew had cleared out of the newsroom.

  Hallelujah. Day One had ended. Sydney wondered if she’d have to initiate a twelve-step program for dealing with the days ahead.

  Chapter Two

  Harrisburg. What the hell had he been thinking? Driving through the city streets, Ben grimaced. Just as shitty as Philly, but on a smaller scale.

  At least he had the farm now. His consolation prize to the extremely shitty year, which strangely enough had begun when he’d first met Sydney Welles – the only upside to the worst night of his life.

  Thank God she didn’t remember him.

  Pretending not to know her had tested his mettle this morning. His nerves jangled beneath his skin, hoping like hell she wouldn’t lay into him – physically or verbally. He’d kept up with her articles, and she was one hell of a writer. Her jabs at politicians so subtle yet on point, readers probably thought it was their own idea not to like them.

  He definitely didn’t want to be on the wrong end of that.

  As he coaxed his truck up Peter’s Mountain, he heaved a breath. This long ride might grow tiresome, but it also gave him time to sort his thoughts. Long familiar scenery stretched before him, dredging up nostalgic memories. Sweet, but still raw.

  The truck rocked over the bumpy lane to the house. The place wouldn’t seem the same without his grandparents. He still couldn’t believe they were gone, one right after the other. Just like the sappy movies of longtime couples, they couldn’t bear to be apart.

  And Ben couldn’t bear to sell the farm. They’d willed it to him. He’d expected them to, just not quite so soon.

  After cutting the engine, his cell buzzed, and he retrieved it from his pocket, grinning at the name in the display as he walked to the house. “Hey.”

  His friend Fred razzed him about leaving. Again.

  “Yeah yeah. You were probably first in line for my parking spot.” Regret tugged at him for the life he’d left behind. He stepped across the porch and into the foyer, letting the warmth of the house envelop him.

  “So how’d your first day go? Did Welles ambush you?”

  Hardly. The way she slumped in her seat, she wanted to avoid him. “No.”

  “Slug you?”

  “No. In fact, she didn’t remember.” It finally hit him. She must not remember that night at all.

  “Get out. You had your tongue down her throat when Kelly found you in the bar.”

  “Yeah but it was a big event, lots of people there.”

  Fred chuckled. “More than one guy had his tongue down her throat?”

  His grip tightened on the phone. “No.” It hadn’t been like that. It had been something special – he thought, anyway. Now it seemed like another slap in the face.

  “Okay, okay, don’t sound so disappointed.”

  “I’m not. That’s crazy. I don’t need that kind of complication.” Right. Life in Philly had been complicated. Sorting out the mess with Kelly. The endless explanations afterward, especially to the family, who’d been so relieved he’d finally decided to settle down despite the awkwardness of the situation. He couldn’t very well tell them Kelly had lied about the pregnancy. She’d kept the engagement ring, but he didn’t begrudge her that consolation prize. His freedom was worth it.

  As Fred filled him in on the latest – crap he’d rather not hear, but wouldn’t admit, and essentially give Fred license to harass him – images of Sydney bloomed in his head.

  Man, she looked great. Better than his instant replays of those stolen hours with her. This past year, he’d spent way too much time reliving those moments. Yeah, an alcoholic haze tended to make those memories less than reliable, but it was more than that. He thought he must have imagined how good it felt just to be near her, but today it all rushed back. Like a damn lava stream.

  Just his luck to pull an assignment with her right off the bat. Right, no problemo.

  A whistle sounded through the phone. “Hey, you still there?”

  “Yeah yeah, sorry. Just tired. It’s been a long day.” Hopefully the night wouldn’t follow suit. Tough enough to throw his life into such upheaval. Yeah, he loved the area, but had planned to maybe live here in his retirement years.

  Should’ve rented out the house instead. But no, he couldn’t let a string of tenants ruin it.

  After ending the call, he made his way to the stairs, taking in the worn wooden floors, faded paint and that damn crack in the wall that had bothered him two years ago; he’d insisted on fixing it, but Pop refused, saying he’d do it. Somehow he never had. One more thing that never saw completion.

  No problem. He had all the time in the world. Opening the bedroom door, he scanned the sparse furnishings. The empty bed. Yeah, his life was uncomplicated.

  ****

  After finishing up another article from home, Sydney went into work late the next morning. When she arrived, Ben wasn’t at his desk. She’d coordinate with him later.

  At one o’clock, Louann talked her into lunch at the deli. When they returned at two, he still wasn’t back. Where could he be? Sydney busied herself at her desk, but found herself glancing up every minute. Or less.

  He strolled in at three thirty. Relief washed over her. Scrounging up another photographer at the last minute was tough. Especially one as good as him.

  And as good looking.

  Her face flushed, and she mentally scolded herself. No one had heard.

  When Hal walked to Ben’s desk, scratching his head, something seemed off. He looked at Sydney, then Ben’s head snapped in her direction. She rifled through some papers, pretending not to watch. Something must be up. Ben nodded. Hal walked away, and Ben strode toward her.

  She clicked open her email and closed it again. “Hey, how’s it going?” Her attempt at nonchalance instead sounded breathy, a forced sexy tone that made her cringe when others used it.

  He gripped the edge of her desk. “Just dandy. Until I found out I have two assignments at the same time.” His wide eyes held her in his sights.

  “What?” She stood. Hal had disappeared. The weasel. He must have known she would be miffed. “I told Hal yesterday about the interview. What else do you have?”

&n
bsp; The last thing she wanted was for him to think her unprofessional. Feelings had never been a factor in how she dealt with anyone, coworker or subject. She’d trained herself to remain neutral, not let emotions taint her judgment so her writing would be nonbiased, and her dealings fair. As uncomfortable as it would be to work with him, she couldn’t let it interfere with her job.

  That thought waned as he glared, piercing her like needles.

  “A playoff game at the high school. I’ll see if Eric can cover it. If not…” He bit his lip. “I’ll have to get some quick shots of the mayor, then run over to the school.”

  Damn. That would make the interview more time-sensitive. The upside was it shortened the time she’d have to spend with him. “I’m sorry, he should have told you.”

  “You could have told me.” As he leaned closer, the heat from his skin was palpable.

  She shifted under his intense focus. “I haven’t seen you all day,” she countered, a little more loudly than she’d intended. “Or I would have. Maybe you should check in more often.”

  “I didn’t know I had to check in with you.” He glanced around the newsroom.

  A few reporters looked their way. Claudia’s office door was open, and she held the telephone receiver to her ear. At least Sydney would be spared her editor’s consternation. For now.

  He ran his hand through his hair and blew through his lips. With a scowl, he went to his desk, picked up the phone. His fingers moved from his hip to his forehead, as if plucking an idea. Then he scribbled on a note pad and nodded. He hung up, then quickly picked up the receiver again.

  Her desk phone rang. “Sydney Welles here.”

  “Eric can do it, so I’m clear for four thirty.”

  His voice through the phone electrified her. She swiveled her chair in his direction. He leaned his elbow against the desk, his hand on his head.

  “Why are you calling me?”

  He looked over at her. “To tell you what I just told you.”

  “I meant… never mind.” Her nerves jangled as she set the receiver down. It sat crooked, so she adjusted it.

  Their first phone conversation wasn’t as she’d imagined. His voice in her ear, so close he might have been holding her as he spoke, awakened something powerful. Shaken to the core, she told herself to get a grip. Sydney Welles, the consummate professional, could not overreact at every interaction with Ben Taylor, the photographer. She repeated this like a mantra to ingrain it into her psyche. Somehow, she couldn’t muster much confidence it would work.