Читать книгу At Any Price - Margaret Allison, Margaret Allison - Страница 9

“Don’t read too much into it,” Marcella warned her. Marcella was the director of advertising for The Falls, as well as Katie’s friend. “He said it was good to see you. I’m sure he meant it.”

“What makes you think I’m reading too much into it?” Katie asked. After a fitful night, she’d arrived at the office at 5:00 a.m., pulling files and getting everything ready for Jack’s visit. To make matters worse, Matt had called and she’d made the mistake of telling him about seeing Jack. Surprisingly, he had morphed into the big brother once again, warning her to be careful. But careful of what?

“Because of the look in your eyes whenever you mention his name.”

Katie thought of Matt’s admonition. Was this what he’d insinuated? That despite her marriage and the years that had passed, she was still in love with his former best friend? “What look?”

“The he’s-so-dreamy look.”

“The man every gossip columnist refers to as the Iceman?”

“I thought it was Heartbreak Kid,” Marcella retorted.

Katie nodded. Jack was a constant figure in the society columns across the country. He was a known playboy, beloved by gossips everywhere.

She shook her head and sighed. “He sure didn’t act as if he was happy to see me. He was so…distant. He didn’t even talk to me directly when I called. And he kept me waiting for forty-five minutes—”

“And then he offered to bail you out.”

“He didn’t offer. Not yet, anyway. He wants to see me jump through hoops first. And even then, there are no guarantees.”

Marcella shrugged. That was all Katie needed to keep going. She said, “It is nice of him to come all the way out here, but I had to beg him to help. And I can guarantee you he’s not excited about it. You should have seen him at lunch. It was obvious he doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

“Like I said, you’re reading too much into this.”

“Am I? He made me wait and then he kept me twiddling my thumbs while he ignored me. He never even bothered to apologize. I knew he would be late today.” She pointed to her watch. “It’s four o’clock.”

“But his office said his morning meeting ran a little longer than expected.”

“It’s all part of his schtick.”

“What schtick?”

“The I’m-a-big-deal-now schtick.” Like most of the people who worked for her, Katie had known Marcella her whole life. They’d gone to school together, and Marcella had not only witnessed Katie’s crush on Jack but had seen how devastated Katie had been when Jack hadn’t reciprocated her feelings.

“He is a big deal. And he’s giving you a chance. That’s more than any of the other people would do.”

“Humph.” Katie shrugged.

“Maybe there are some unresolved feelings.”

“No way. If he still cared a hoot about me he would’ve called or written.”

“I wasn’t talking about Jack.”

Katie stared up from her desk. “I may have cared for the old Jack Reilly, the one without the fancy suits and high-rise office, but I couldn’t care less about the new version. He’s not my type.”

“He was for a very long time.”

“That was before he left town, before he stopped writing, stopped calling. Before he forgot who he was.”

“I think thou dost protest too much.”

Katie felt her cheeks heating up. “I guarantee you, whatever feelings I had for Jack Reilly are no more. Sure, he may still make me nervous,” she said, remembering the way her heart had accelerated when she first saw him again, “but that’s normal.”

Marcella raised her eyebrows.

“My interest in Jack Reilly is purely professional. I called him only as a last resort. I mean, wait till he gets here. You’ll see. It’s no accident that we’ve had to wait a gazillion minutes. Jack’s so cocky now, so arrogant, so full of himself…”

“And so behind you,” Marcella said.

Jack stood in the doorway. He’d heard almost every word of Katie’s litany against him. But it hadn’t angered him. In fact, he was flattered he could still squeak genuine emotion out of the normally reserved town sweetheart.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said. “My meeting ran a little long this morning.”

He pretended not to notice the look of absolute horror in Katie’s eyes. He saw her glance at Marcella. “No problem,” Katie said quickly.

“And then my pilot had some last-minute things to take care of before we took off.”

“My pilot?” asked Marcella. She shot Katie a look, impressed. “You have your own plane?”

Jack nodded. “Anyway, I can see I’m interrupting. I’d be happy to wait, though. How long do you think you’ll be? A gazillion minutes?”

“Nice to see you again, Jack,” Marcella said, rushing past him.

“Look, Jack,” Katie said. Her normally pale face was beet-red. “I’m sorry about that. You know me. I never liked to wait.”

Jack’s smile faded. “Yes,” he said. She certainly had not waited for him. “I know.”

“Well,” she said, breezing past him. Jack recognized her perfume. It was soft yet enticing, the same scent she’d worn in high school. She turned to face him. Then she flashed him the smile he had committed to memory. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Katie had the sudden urge to throw up. How could she have been so stupid, talking about him like that when he was due any time? Whatever her history was with Jack, she had to get over it. After all, she needed him. This paper needed him. Without him, the entire town was sunk.

But still… She thought of the way he’d mentioned his pilot. It was as if he wanted her to know that he didn’t fly commercial anymore. He had his own private plane. Well, big deal! He may be a hotshot in New York, but she would always be able to cream him with a snowball.

She showed Jack around the offices. He seemed unimpressed, almost bored. He sat through the various meetings with a stone face, every now and then interrupting to ask a question.

At one point, when she and Marcella escaped to the ladies’ room, Marcella grabbed her arm and said, “Oh, my God, he’s so gorgeous…I mean, he was always gorgeous but not like that. What happened to him?”

“It’s the suit,” Katie replied, trying to convince herself. And they both laughed. For it was apparent that underneath the expensive suit, the crisp, starched shirt and the pearl cuff links, Jack was every bit the muscular hunk he had been in school.

At the end of the day, she led him back to her office. “I’d like to meet with some of those reporters you talked about,” he said.

“Right,” Katie replied. She picked up her phone and dialed Luanna Combs, her most recent coup. Luanna had worked at the Baltimore Sun for ten years before joining The Falls. But Luanna didn’t pick up her extension.

Katie hung up the phone, distressed. She checked her watch. It was almost six. Except for today she wouldn’t expect Luanna to be at the office past five-thirty. After all, that was part of the deal, part of why she was able to woo high-level staff. She promised flexible work hours and little overtime, a family-friendly environment.

She glanced at Jack. He crossed his arms.

She swallowed and tried another extension. Bobby, the assistant for the reporters, picked up. “Where’s Luanna?” she asked.

“She left. Said she was really sorry, but she got a call from school. Her kid’s got red spots all over—they think it’s chicken pox.”

“What about Brett?” she asked. Brett Wilson was her top reporter, whom she’d somehow snagged from the Los Angeles Times.

“Tanker overturned on Route 44. Brett’s covering it.”

“And Shelley?” she asked, already anticipating the answer.

“Gone. Her husband got the stomach flu so she had to pick up her kids from day care. Turned in her story, though. Damn good.”

When she hung up the phone, Jack raised his eyebrows and said, “Well?”

“They’re not here.”

“None of them? Where are they?”

“The three I wanted you to meet aren’t… Well, they’re not available right now.”

“This newspaper’s future is riding on three employees? That’s why you haven’t increased revenues? Because you’re paying top dollar to only three—”

“They’ll be in tomorrow,” she said crossly. “If you can’t stick around to talk to them, well, I guess I’ll just thank you for your time and see you out.”

He hesitated a moment. “They’ll be available tomorrow—guaranteed?”

“Guaranteed,” she said. Even if she had to watch their kids for them and cover the newsbeat.

“Okay,” he said.

“You’ll stay?” she asked, surprised.

He nodded as he flipped open his cell phone and called his office. She could hear him talking to his secretary, rearranging his schedule. “And call Carol,” he said. “See if you can reschedule her for another night.”

Jealousy stabbed her heart. Carol? He was obviously canceling a date.

She cleared her throat, as if trying to rid herself of poisonous feelings. She had no business being jealous. Instead, she should be feeling sorry for the poor woman. After all, he didn’t even have the decency to call himself, his secretary did it for him.

He shut the phone and told her, “One more day.” He looked at his watch. “Does Mrs. Crutchfield still run the inn on Main Street?”

“Yep,” Katie said. But she didn’t see this new Jack Reilly comfortable in a simple country inn. She was certain he would prefer accommodations that offered room service. “But there’s a nice Hyatt in Albany.”

“The inn will be fine. I’ll ask Greg to drive some clothes over.”

“Who’s Greg and what clothes?”

“Greg’s my pilot. He does a bunch of things besides just flying planes.”

“You mean he’s a valet, too?” She couldn’t help the sarcasm.

Once again, she saw the grin creep up his lips. “If needed. I keep an extra set of clothes on the plane, just in case.”

“Of course,” she said. After all, who didn’t?

When she stood up, Jack surprised her and said, “Do you have plans this evening?”

“I, uh, no,” she stammered.

“Good. I’d like to take you out to a nice dinner. Pick any place you want. We can catch up.”

“Sure,” she said. She had just the place in mind.

Joe’s Diner was located on the corner of Main and Howe Streets, almost directly across the street from the paper. It had been in existence ever since Joe Pecorillo first arrived in Albany from Italy in the late 1920s. Since then, it had stayed in the family, passing from Joe Sr., to Joe Jr., to Joe the third. Joe the third, otherwise known as Joey, was about sixty years old and had managed it since Katie was a kid. She, Jack and Matt had spent many hours at Joe’s sharing milkshakes and burgers. Jack even worked there his senior year before college.

If Jack was surprised by her choice, he didn’t show it. In fact, she thought he seemed relieved, almost happy that she had not chosen a more romantic and quiet place.

After Jack had shaken hands with Joe they settled into a worn, yet cozy booth by the window. Jack looked around and said, “It’s kind of quiet for Thursday night, isn’t it?”

Besides them, only three other tables were taken. “Not really,” she said. “I told you, things have changed. I’m sure you noticed the out-of-business signs. A lot of people have left town. It’s hard to find work around here. Unless something is done, Newport Falls is going to turn into a ghost town.”

“But Lois Lane is going to save it. Or do you see yourself as Brenda Starr?”

“Neither,” she said coldly. “This is my hometown. I love it here. I love the fact that when I’m sick, I can count on Mrs. Crutchfield to make me chicken soup. I can count on Ms. Faunally to bring me her homemade strawberry jelly in the spring. I can count on the Wellers to entertain the entire town at Halloween. I can count on Mr. Pete to know I’m entertaining if I buy an extra package of steaks at his grocery store. I can count on the wild azaleas to bloom like crazy every summer. I know some people don’t like small towns, but—”

“You do. I got it, Devonworth. But not everyone has such fond memories of this place.”

She stopped. Jack’s father had died the year after he left for college. They had buried him in the town cemetery, not too far from where her parents were buried. “I know,” she said. “But your memories aren’t all bad, are they?”

“No. Thanks to you…and Matt,” he said, adding Matt’s name almost as an afterthought.

“Lots of other people cared about you, too,” Katie said. “Lots of other people still do. Mr. Pete was just asking me about you the other day.”

“How’s his business?” Jack asked. He had worked for Mr. Pete for years, bagging groceries and helping out around the store.

“Like everything else, not great.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jack said. Then without skipping a beat he said, “Should we order?”

Katie ate her meal in silence, inwardly steaming about the cold, callous way Jack had handled the news of Mr. Pete’s business. How could he be so offhand about a man who had been nothing but kind to him? After they finished eating, she said, “Do you plan on seeing anyone else while you’re here?”

He stood up and took her coat off the hook, held it open for her. “No.”

“No?” she repeated as she slipped into her coat. “I’m sure Mrs. Bayons would like to see you.”

“I don’t have time,” he said.

“Maybe tomorrow—”

“No. I have something to take care of in the morning. After which I’m going directly to your office. I have to be back in the city tomorrow night.”

“Oh, right.” For his date with Carol.

“I doubt I have anything to say to anyone here, anyway.”

His aim had been direct and sharp. She stopped walking and looked at him, hurt. She got the message. Jack had broken all connection to Newport Falls.

But Jack appeared oblivious to her pain. He said goodbye to Joe and held the door open for her. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

But she didn’t have a car. This morning, despite the fact that it was January and freezing cold, she had ridden her bike. She told Jack.

He looked at her, surprised. “You rode your bike in this weather?”

“Why not? The roads are clear. Besides, I wanted exercise.”

“You’re not still living at your parents’ place, are you?”

Her parents’ farm was about five miles outside of town. More than a hundred acres, it included an old and rather worn Victorian house and a pond where they had fished and swum in the summers, ice-skated in the winters. “I’ve moved back there, yes.”

“It’s too far and too cold to ride all the way back. I’ll drive you. I rented a car at the airport.”

But she didn’t think she could stand one more minute talking to him or not talking to him, as the case might be. What had happened to her friend? To the warm, caring, funny guy whom she had loved with all of her heart?

Outside the newspaper, she stopped at the bike rack on the sidewalk. There was no lock on her bike, none was needed in Newport Falls. “Thanks for dinner,” she said. She felt a raindrop, then another. No matter, she was used to riding in all types of weather.

Jack grabbed her hand and stopped her. He hesitated a moment and then said, “You can’t save the world, Devonworth.”

“I don’t want to save the world, Reilly. Just Newport Falls.”

He held tight, pulling her back toward him. “I can’t let you go like this.”

“Why not?” she asked, her heart pounding.

“Because,” he said, dropping her hand and motioning toward the sky, “it’s raining.”

She pulled her sneakers out of her backpack. “You used to ride your bike in the rain all the time,” she replied as she switched shoes right there on the sidewalk. “Or did you forget about that, too?” When she was finished, she shoved her pumps into her bag and hopped on her bike as gracefully as she could. “See you tomorrow.”

She pedaled through the dark streets. She knew each and every home by heart. They were inhabited by friends, by people she had known her entire life. As she drove by the yellow bungalow on the corner, she knew that the blue light flickering on the first floor meant Mr. and Mrs. Holmes were sitting in their matching La-Z-Boys, watching Jeopardy on the living-room TV. She pedaled past old Mrs. Honeywell’s house. She knew the dim light in the second-floor window meant Mrs. Honeywell was tucked into bed, petting her white poodle, Betsy, and reading one of the bloody mysteries she was so fond of. She passed by the little red house on the corner. The house was dark because its owners, Jan and Tony Bintlif, and their newborn son, Alex, were visiting Jan’s parents in Florida.

She was glad it was raining, because if anyone saw her in the dark gloom of this January night, they wouldn’t notice her tears. Jack was right about one thing: she desperately wanted to save Newport Falls. She would never again find a place where everyone knew not only her first and last name, but her middle name, as well. A place where people didn’t have to worry about locking their doors. A place where stranger was a foreign word.

Unfortunately, Marcella was right. Katie wouldn’t be able to save the town without Jack’s help.

When headlights flashed behind her, Katie rode over to the side of the road. But the car didn’t pass. Instead, it pulled up alongside her. “You sure you don’t want a ride?” It was Jack.

“I’m sure,” she said. “Good night.”

He slowed the car down, and for a minute she thought he was going to turn around. But he didn’t. He followed behind her, his headlights illuminating the way.

Jack followed her all the way home. He pulled his car into her driveway, parking behind her. He knew she was annoyed but he didn’t care. He wasn’t about to let her ride her bike on a rainy night alone. It made no difference that Newport Falls was the safest place in the country. The roads were slick and a tired driver might not notice someone pedaling a bike on the side of the road. After all, who in their right mind would ride a bike to work in January?

Katie, of course. She had always done things differently from anyone else. Eccentric, they’d call her in New York City. There had never been, nor would there ever be, another woman like her. Feisty and opinionated, beautiful and brainy, with a killer body and a heart of gold.

When Katie tapped on his window, he rolled it down. “You didn’t need to follow me home,” she said.

“What?” he said, pretending to be surprised. “I thought this was the way to the inn!” The inn, which everyone knew, was directly next to the diner.

Katie grinned. It was enough to make him smile. He nodded toward her parents’ house. “It still looks the same.”

Katie nodded. “Thanks for following me,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then she bounded off toward the house.

Part of him wanted to chase after her. Open a bottle of wine and sit by the fire, just the two of them. He would tell her how nice it was to see her again. Explain how badly he felt that they had lost contact. How he wanted to make things right…

He stopped himself. He could not allow old feelings to surface. He reminded himself once again that Katie had long ago stopped caring for him, and only a fool would think otherwise. As he had heard her say in her office, she had turned to him only as a last resort. And it was only for money.

But her heart was in the right place. He could see why she was attached to Newport Falls, and he knew why she was desperate to save it. How it had changed since he had grown up here! There was a distinct creakiness to the town now, as if it were suffering from a terminal illness. The changes were not subtle. For Sale signs littering yards. Stores with windows boarded up. Empty streets and restaurants. It made him sad to think that Newport Falls might soon be just as Katie had said. A ghost town.

Jack drove back to the inn, mulling over all the thoughts that cluttered his mind. He didn’t like feeling this way, his mind in turmoil. He found himself yearning to be back in the safe, sterile confines of his office. His life had a comfortable rhythm, revolving around work. There were women, of course. Plenty of women. But his relationships were based on sex, not emotion.

But the gossip columnists were wrong when they said he did not want to commit. He was envious of his peers with wives and families. He could only hope he would be so lucky one day. But first, he needed to find the right woman.

And to forget about Katie.