“Mmm-hmm.” She clicked on the date and checked for the entire programming schedule, to see if there was another reason that could account for all or some of the increase. “They also had religious programming on Sundays at that time,” she pointed out half-heartedly. Religious programming virtually never pulled in big ratings.
“Check the ratings,” Evan said, his voice ringing with smug confidence at what she’d find.
She checked. The religious programming had abysmal ratings. Worse than most. “Oh.”
“Exactly.”
Meredith frowned, looking for any evidence there might be that Evan was assigning too much credit to this one man. “When did they fire him?”
“They didn’t.”
“No?” Darn it, she should have armed herself with more specific information before meeting with Evan about this.
“He left for Gemini Broadcasting here.” He pointed at the computer screen again, leaning so close across Meredith that she could smell not only his cologne but the achingly familiar scent of his skin. “In November of the following year.”
“And the ratings went down,” Meredith observed, so distracted by the close proximity of Evan that she almost couldn’t concentrate on the matter at hand.
Evan, on the other hand, didn’t appear to be having any such problem being close to Meredith. He gave a chipper nod, his face devoid of anything other than triumph that Meredith appeared to be seeing the light, now that he was shining it directly in her eyes. “The ratings went way down.”
She went back to the search engine and typed in Gemini Broadcasting, just as Evan had a week earlier, and typed in the pertinent dates.
He waited a moment while she studied the higher ratings before saying, “See what I mean?”
She clicked off and rolled back in the chair to face him. “Yes, I do.”
“But you’re conflicted because, while you like what he could potentially do for the company, you don’t like what he stands for,” Evan said, trying to read the unaccustomed sternness in her eyes and her posture. Every time he got anywhere near her she tensed up and resisted whatever he was saying.
If she’d shown any form of emotion at all—which she hadn’t—he’d have thought her reaction to him was personal.
As it was, he could only conclude that she hated Lenny Doss, or what he stood for, so much that she felt angry at Evan for even wanting to hire him and for pointing out that there were good things to be considered in the process.
“Right,” she admitted, taking a short breath and moving slightly away from where Evan stood. The chair she was sitting in knocked against the desk behind her. “But as I’ve said before, I’m also hesitant about his potential as a liability. That’s really important,” she added.
“Fine. Check the e-mails he’s written to me about that,” Evan said, switching to another program and pulling up a folder in which he’d stored his correspondence with Lenny Doss. He kept a little more distance this time, not so much because he was afraid to get near her because of her reaction, but because he didn’t want to see her react by recoiling again.
If she did, he’d know it was on purpose and not just some small coincidence, and he didn’t want to know that. “Read them all, if it will make you feel better,” he said, stepping back and going to the small refrigerator under the picture window to take out a bottle of spring water and give himself something to do other than just stand there gazing at Meredith and trying to figure out how the years had only made her prettier instead of older.
“Okay.” She looked back at the screen. “Just give me a couple of minutes.”
He hadn’t thought she’d really do that, but it was nice to be away from her scrutiny for a moment, even though it seemed like forever that he stood there waiting for her to read through the e-mails.
One by one, date by date, she clicked through, stopping every once in a while to make a note on the small pad on his desk.
He noticed that her handwriting was still the same messy scrawl it had been in high school. Something about that small fact made him feel a little warmer inside.
A little more at home.
But that was all she gave in terms of comforting vibes. The rest of her was completely cool and impersonal. He tried to read the expression on her face, but though the face itself was undeniably familiar, some of the expressions she wore now were completely new to him. He had only his experience with people to go by, and he got the distinct and uncomfortable feeling that, for Meredith, this was all just standard business.
Finally she finished scrolling through the notes and turned the chair around to face Evan. Her green eyes were bright, probably from the sudden light change of looking from the computer monitor to Evan, and she said, “Okay, I will admit I kind of see your point.”
He couldn’t believe his ears. “You agree with me?”
“Wait a minute.” She held up a slender hand. The left one, actually.
The one he’d once thought would wear his wedding and engagement rings.
“I didn’t say I agree with you,” she went on, blissfully ignorant of his disconcerting thoughts about their past. “There’s still plenty we disagree about.”
That hadn’t always been the case.
“But I am saying,” she continued, “that I see your point about his ratings and I understand why his contrition has given you confidence in potentially hiring him.”
This was good. She was agreeing with him. Wasn’t she? “So you’ll come with me and meet him?”
She frowned, hesitating. Her delicate brow lowered toward those bright green eyes in a way that he hadn’t seen in so long it made him ache to think about it.
“I’m not sure there’s anything I could do to help you attain your goal.”
“Come on, Mer,” he said, catching the familiarity only afterward, when it was too late to stop himself. “You can charm the pants off him, that’s what you can do. You’re damn good at that.”
She glanced at him sharply and said, “I don’t think any of us wants that.”
He had to be careful of this thinking about her personally, because obviously some part of his subconscious was having trouble distinguishing between the way he used to feel about her, back when they were just kids, versus what he felt for her now that they were nothing more than casual work associates.
What he needed to concentrate on was the success of his plan. Securing Lenny Doss and saving the company. The idea had taken hold and was mattering more and more to him. He couldn’t say for sure if his desire was more a compulsion to help future generations who were innocent of his father’s poison, or if he just wanted to “show up” the old man by saving the company that George had nearly destroyed.
He wanted both, but the balance tended to swing a little more toward the latter than the former.
Not
