Читать книгу Beyond Business - Elizabeth Harbison, Allison Leigh - Страница 17

It was a strange feeling having Evan Hanson sleeping in her house.

A very strange feeling.

As Meredith sat by the washer and dryer, waiting for them to complete their cycles so she could take Evan’s clothes to his room and go to sleep, she had to keep reminding herself that this was all really happening.

There was once a time when she would never have imagined herself forgiving him and facing him again, but that was fading now. It wasn’t Evan’s fault that her father’s business had been ruined, it was George Hanson’s. The more she dug around Hanson Media Group, and the more people she spoke with, the more obvious it was that he had been a completely ruthless businessman for whom nothing was personal and everything had been war.

Now, instead of blaming Evan for his father’s misdeeds, she pitied him for having had that sort of man for a father. As rough as it was to compete with him in business, it had to be almost as rough to live up to his standards as a son.

As a matter of fact, she remembered some of Evan’s struggle with George Hanson. Not that Evan had talked about it much, but he’d gone through periods of quiet introspection that had worried her sometimes, and it wasn’t until she’d drawn him out that she knew it was because of his father’s heavy hand.

For her, it was just one more thing to hate about George Hanson.

When she’d taken this job, she’d thought it would be easy because of the unpleasant connotations she had with the Hanson family name. She thought she’d feel no hint of conscience or betrayal because any personal warm feelings she’d had for anyone in the family had long since died and been replaced by the opposite.

In a way it had seemed like the perfect opportunity to get back at them, even though they’d never know it was her.

Now … well. Now things were getting a little more complicated. She’d still do her job; she was nothing if not professional.

But she was going to have to get some perspective where Evan was concerned. And that she would get by reminding herself how, even though he didn’t have anything to do with the greatest tragedy of her life—her father’s ruin and death—he was directly responsible for the greatest heartbreak of her life.

There was no way around that one.

The dryer stopped and she took the warm jeans out. Size 32 waist. He’d filled out.

But of course she knew that.

She started up the stairs and remembered a conversation she’d had with him once. The memory hit her with crystal clarity and hit her so hard she had to stop and sit down.

They’d snuck out in the night once because it had seemed so romantic. It had been her idea, as she recalled, but Evan had indulged her. He’d come to her window at 2:00 a.m. and she’d climbed down the trellis, just like a cliché in a movie.

It was summer, and hot. Even the nights were hot, and the air was damp with humidity. They’d gone to a small private cove he knew of on Lake Michigan and they’d sat on the beach and talked for hours.

She couldn’t remember most of what they’d said. It was a lot of talk about their pasts, their dreams and the other typical things that kids that age could expound upon.

She remembered the night specifically because a quick but wild thunderstorm had come out of the blue, interrupting the clear starry night with about ten minutes of drama.

Kissing in that thunderstorm had been one of the most romantic moments of her life.

It was amazing that she could remember anything else, but she did. Evan had asked her if her father had ever thought about selling his newspaper business.

“I don’t know. Why?”

Evan had shrugged. But now, when she saw it again in her memory, she realized he had looked tense.

“Just seems like a really competitive business. I’ve heard sometimes it gets ugly, one paper accusing another of publishing lies and whatnot. It’s hard for a newspaper to come back after that kind of accusation.”

She’d laughed—laughed!—seeing no significance in what he was saying at all.

“Oh, come on, Evan, no one takes that stuff that seriously. Look at all the tabloids at the grocery store that say aliens are walking among us. Everyone knows they’re full of lies, but they’re still in business.”

“It’s different, Meredith. I wouldn’t want to be in the news business for anything. I’d hate to see a nice guy like your dad get into trouble in business.”

“As long as he keeps the aliens off the front page, he’ll be fine.” She could remember saying that, because then she’d looked up and seen a shooting star.

She’d wished for a long, happy future with Evan.

Maybe the star had been an alien.

She started up the stairs with his warm clothes now, playing and replaying his words in her head. How on earth had she forgotten that hugely significant conversation until now?

Or, on the other hand, how had she remembered it at all? Given how little thought she’d put into it at the time, and how many other things had happened that night that were a lot more interesting to the mind of a teenage girl, she was amazed that it was still in her head at all.

She wondered if Evan remembered.

She stopped at the door to the guest room she’d directed him to and knocked softly.

No answer.

Slowly she opened the door and peeked in. Light from the bathroom spilled in and she could see he was on his side, breathing softly and rhythmically.

She set his clothes down on the dresser and started to leave but then she turned back.

As if watching someone else, and completely incapable of stopping them, she walked back over to the side of the bed and looked down at him. She told herself she just wanted to make sure he seemed all right, in case he had a concussion, but the truth was she wanted to be closer to him, to see him without his knowing it.

It might have been ten minutes that she stood there, looking at that handsome face half hidden by the shadows of the night. It was a face she’d thought about many times over the years. At first with love, then later with pain and confusion, then finally with anger.

Now she wasn’t sure how she felt.

And that scared her more than anything.

She turned to leave and stepped on a creaky floorboard that protested loudly.

She froze, listening for the even breath of his sleep.

Instead she heard his voice. “Meredith?”

She turned back to him. “I just brought your clothes back. They’re on the dresser.”

He looked through sleepy eyes at the dresser across the room, then back at her by the bed and clearly not anywhere near the clothes.

“Then I came to check on you and make sure you were breathing normally,” she explained in answer to his unasked question. “You know, all the typical concussion checks. Steady breathing, ability to wake up. Congratulations, you passed.”

He sat up in bed and the sheets fell away from him, revealing a bare torso.

So much for the T-shirts she’d offered him.

And so much for her resolve to keep a professional distance from him. This was a sight that would easily fuel the romantic fantasies of any red-blooded American woman, and it was right here in her own house.

“Thanks,” he said. “Am I okay?”

“I think you’ll live.”

“Can’t ask for more than that, I guess.”

This was hard, all this small talk in a room filled with such big tension.

“If there’s nothing you need, I’ll be going to sleep now,” she said to him. She swallowed. “Do you need anything?”

Three heartbeats passed.

“There is one thing …”

“What is it?”

“I—” He stopped. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

“Oh. Okay. If you’re sure …”

He nodded.

“Good night, then.”

“Good night.”

She started to go, then stopped and turned back. She had to ask him this. If she didn’t, it would drive her crazy. “Evan?”

“Hmm?” He sat up again.

“Can we talk for a minute?”

“Sure.” He scooted back in the bed. “Have a seat.”

She went over and sat on the edge of the bed, facing him. “I want you to be absolutely honest, okay?”

He frowned. “Okay.”

“Did you know what your father was planning to do to my father’s business?”

He blew air into his cheeks, then let it out in a long, tense stream. “I guess we were going to get to this someday.”

“So you did.”

“I had an idea, yeah.”

“An idea? Or you knew?” The possibilities mounted in her mind. “Did he tell you?”

He raked his hand through his hair and looked at her. “You sure you want to do this?”

Her stomach began to feel shaky and upset. It was like getting a phone call and knowing it was bad news before even picking up the receiver. “Tell me,” she said.

“I knew my father wanted to buy your father’s paper. Everyone knew that. He even made an offer, but your dad refused.”

“He loved his work.”

“I know,” Evan said softly. “It wasn’t his fault.”

“Obviously not,” she said, a tad too defensively. “So your father told you he was going to plant lies about my father’s paper to cast doubt on the credibility?”

“No, he didn’t tell me.” He was choosing his words carefully, talking slowly.

Meredith wanted answers now. “Then how did you know?”

“I heard him talking to someone on the phone one night. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together and figure out what he was planning to do.” He shook his head. “I tried to warn you one night—”

“At the beach?”

“That’s right.” He nodded. “You remember that?”

“It only just occurred to me.” She shifted her weight, and the mattress squeaked. “But if you knew, why didn’t you tell me directly? You were so vague…. I had no idea you were trying to make me aware of something so important.” Her eyes burned but she wouldn’t cry. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

There was a long moment where Evan said nothing. Then at last he said, “Because I was a kid, Meredith. I didn’t have firsthand information about the plan, and even if I did, we’re talking about betraying my father.” He shook his head again, the slow movement showing his regret. “I thought I needed to be loyal to my family. To my father.”

A terrible thought occurred to her. “Did our relationship. did it have anything to do with helping your father take over my father’s company?”

“Of course not,” Evan said, clearly offended at the suggestion.

Relief coursed through Meredith, calming her tight stomach.

But it was short-lived.

“I would never have dated you in order to help my father get access to the newspaper,” Evan went on. “In fact, when he suggested our relationship could be of use to him, I ended it.”

She felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. Had she heard that correctly? “Wait a minute. You’re saying you left because your father wanted to use us to gain access to my father’s business?”

Evan nodded slowly. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”