let go, Meredith’s hand felt suddenly cold.
He looked as if he was about to say something but just then his cell phone rang. He took it out of his pocket and glanced at the caller ID. “Damn.” He looked at her apologetically. “I’ve got to take this. Can I get you a cab?”
“No, no. I’m fine. Go back in and take your call.”
He flipped his phone open and said to the caller, “Hang on, I’ll be right with you,” then looked at Meredith. “You’re sure? About … everything.”
“You bet.”
“Okay, I’ll be talking to you soon.”
“Absolutely.”
“Great.” He looked at her for a moment. “This will work out just fine.” Evan turned to leave. Watching his faded jean-clad form walking away from her, noticing the way his loose-fitting cotton shirt lay across his muscular back and shoulders, Meredith could have sworn she heard him add, “I hope.”
The usually short walk back to the office seemed to take forever. With every step the heat got more intense, along with her conflicted feelings.
When she finally got to the building, the air-conditioning hit her like a slap in the face, and she told herself she had to regroup for a moment then make some tough decisions.
She went back to her office. Fortunately David wasn’t there—he and his wife, Nina, were taking the kids to the Whistle Stop Circus—so she was alone. Completely alone. She sat down at her desk, a blanket of silence enveloping her like a warm fleece throw.
For a few minutes she couldn’t move, couldn’t think. All she could do was breathe deeply and try to still her pounding heart. Her eyes burned, but no tears would come, no release.
Just an empty silence.
How had a love that had once been so strong and so comfortable turned into the awkward exchange that had just taken place? It was as if she and Evan were two completely different people now. Strangers.
But they always had been, hadn’t they? As it turned out, Evan had never been the person she’d thought he was.
But, darn it, he still looked so much the same. When she’d first laid eyes on him today, her heart had tripped with excitement. Not anger, not sadness, but excitement. Her first impulse was to reach out to him. Then, only after those first split seconds, she remembered why she shouldn’t.
Fragmented thoughts of Evan’s disappearance, George Hanson’s sabotage of her own father’s business and her father’s subsequent heart attack and death ran through her head. And through it all, Evan had never contacted her. He hadn’t even sent a card to say he was sorry to hear about her father, and she knew he must have known since it was his father who had had such a strong hand in discrediting her own father’s small local newspaper so Hanson’s knockoff could take over.
George Hanson had systematically dismantled her father’s life. It was child’s play for him—just a way to get what he wanted. If Terence Waters wouldn’t sell the Lakeside Gazette to Hanson—at a greatly undervalued price—then it was the easiest thing in the world for the great George Hanson to force him out of business by creating his own competition.
The Lake Michigan Gazette.
The whole business had left her shell-shocked. If Evan had contacted her, said something—anything—compassionate, it would have gone a long way toward soothing her shattered nerves.
But he hadn’t.
And she’d eventually gotten over him, comfortable in the knowledge that she’d never see him again.
So now that she had, she was paralyzed with a strange combination of resentment and longing.
Gradually the ticking of the wall clock cut into her consciousness, and she managed to stand up and walk to the water cooler. The icy water chilled a path down her throat, returning her senses.
She had to talk to Helen.
She had to tell Helen the truth before this went any further.
Meredith was running on high when she got to Helen’s office. She stopped at the desk of Sonia Townsley, Helen’s assistant. Sonia was tall, thin, midforties, with striking gray hair cut in a fashionable style that stopped just short of being geometric. But the thing that struck Meredith most about Sonia was that she was always—always—calm and cool as a cucumber.
“Is Helen available?” Meredith asked.
“Yes, she is,” Sonia said, lowering her perfectly shaped eyebrows. “Are you okay, Meredith?”
Meredith nodded. “I’m fine, really. I just need to talk to Helen for a moment.”
“What’s going on?” Helen asked from the doorway to her office. She walked out and exchanged concerned looks with Sonia.
“It’s just. I.” Meredith stumbled. This was not the professional image she sought to project.
“I’ll go get some ice water for you,” Sonia said, tactfully removing herself from what was clearly an awkward moment.
“I’m sorry,” Meredith said to Helen when Sonia had gone. “I didn’t mean to drive her away.”
“Not at all. Come on in. Tell me what’s on your mind.” Helen gestured for Meredith to follow her. She sat behind her desk. “Is everything okay?”
Meredith perched uncomfortably on the chair opposite Helen’s. “I’m not sure. There’s something I think you should know about me. I should have told you before, but I just didn’t want to be the sort of person who couldn’t separate their personal life from business.”
Helen frowned. “But now you find you are?”
“Sort of.” Meredith nodded. “I find I could be.”
Helen leaned forward. “What is it, Meredith? Tell me what’s concerning you and we’ll work it out.”
“Evan and I have … a past together,” Meredith began. She could feel her palms growing clammy and cold.
Helen raised her eyebrows. “Evan?”
“Yes, we knew each other in high school.” Understatement. “We knew each other pretty well in high school.”
Helen looked over at Meredith with a curious eye. “You’re saying you dated?”
Meredith swallowed a lump in her throat. Dated. That sounded so impersonal. So milk-shakes-and-a-movie. So innocent. “It was actually a pretty serious relationship. At least it was to me.”
“Ah.” Helen nodded slowly and leaned back in her chair. “And this is the first time you’ve seen him since that time?”
“The last time I saw him it was the afternoon of our senior prom. He said he’d see me in a few hours.” She gave a dry laugh. “It’s been quite a few hours.”
“I’m sorry, Meredith. It
