I’m sorry,” he said. “But you know what I mean. There’s a lot you can do to help persuade him, because you are a smart, beautiful wo—person. And you can present the case in a truthful and persuasive manner.”
She faced him, looking surprised for a moment, then gave one conciliatory nod. “Your faith in me might be a little unfounded. But, fine, I’ll do it.”
“You’ll go?” He couldn’t believe it.
It was almost a date.
At least, the prospect of it made him feel as nervous as he would have if it was a first date. And he was seventeen.
“I’ll go.” She nodded again, that rich brown hair gleaming in the light. “But only to meet the guy and feel the situation out. I’m not promising I’m going to be buying a ticket for the Lenny Doss love train.”
“Honey, that train doesn’t even stop at this station,” Evan said with a smile. He could have pulled her into his arms and kissed her at that moment, but he didn’t.
This was business, he reminded himself. And everything that happened would remain just business, even if the look in her eyes or the curve of her mouth made him think of things that were distinctly unbusinesslike.
So he would take on the manner of the gregarious boss, enthusiastic about his work. “All we need to be concerned with is the Lenny Doss ratings train. And that—” he opened his arms “—is about to call Hanson Broadcasting its home station.”
Chapter Eight
This was, of course, not a date. And they both knew it. So Meredith hated the impulse she had to make herself up for the evening.
More than that, she hated that she wasn’t able to stop feeling the impulse.
Her mother had moved back to Tampa almost a year ago now, and Meredith was back in the suburban Chicago home she’d grown up in. It had made sense for her to move in, since her mother wasn’t emotionally ready to let go of the house, yet wasn’t physically able to maintain it any longer.
Meredith was back in Chicago for her work and, since she needed a place to live, the old house had fit the bill perfectly, though it was sometimes disconcerting to find herself having her Cheerios in the same old kitchen.
That was changing. Meredith wasn’t the sort of person who could actually live in that kind of time warp. But renovation was going slowly, thanks in part to slow contractors and in part to Meredith’s limited funds, so the house still looked very much as it had ten or twenty years ago.
This hadn’t bothered her at all until now, when she was looking into a bathroom mirror that had reflected her image when it was that of a fresh-faced high-school girl getting ready for a date with the somewhat wild, but deep-down sweet, bad boy Evan Hanson himself.
“You shouldn’t be going out with that kid,” her father had told her one night as she was getting ready to go see the new Hal Burkett movie with Evan. “He comes from a bad family.”
“Oh, Daddy, he doesn’t come from a bad family. His father’s just a bully, that’s all.”
Her father had snorted and it was only now that she understood the pain that had tightened his expression for a moment. “If the boy is anything like his father, you would do best to stay as far away from him as possible.”
“He’s really great, Daddy. Honest. You trust my judgment, don’t you?”
“I don’t trust anything where George Hanson’s family is concerned.”
She’d gone to him and hugged him tight, her arms closing too easily around a frame that used to have a lot more bulk to it. He wasn’t healthy. He worked all the time. She worried about that.
“Evan must have had a wonderful mother, because he’s one of the best guys I ever met. Besides you, of course. I know she’s gone now, but he had her up until last year. That’s a lot of time for him to learn to be something other than his father.”
“You always see the best in people,” her father had said with something like amazement. “But you have to believe me when I tell you that sometimes people are not what they seem. Trust, but always be at least a little cautious. Take care of yourself when I’m not there to do it for you.”
She’d kissed his cheek. “I’ll be fine, Daddy, I promise you.”
Her own words had echoed tauntingly in her memory for some time after that.
Now look at her.
Life had changed a lot since those days, yet here Meredith was, still looking at the same old face—though somewhat older—in the same old mirror, trying to accent the same old green eyes and too-full lips to make the same old boy think she was pretty.
She had to be crazy.
Why did this matter so much to her?
It didn’t, she told herself as she carefully brushed a mossy green shadow in a thin line along her lashes. Not too much, just enough to make her eyes stand out.
It made sense that she should look her best for a meeting with talent the company was trying to hire, didn’t it?
So this wasn’t really to impress Evan, she reminded herself as she struggled to bring her long, wavy, chestnut-colored hair under control with a ceramic flat iron. She merely wanted to look her best so that these men would take her seriously professionally. It would have been foolish for her to face them with the distraction of sleep-deprived pale skin and wild, unruly hair.
She had to make herself look like the sleek professional she was.
The clock ticked slowly forward as she prepared for the evening. The truth was, the time seemed to be going extra slowly. It didn’t take that long to do her makeup and hair, but she was so agitated about spending the evening out with Evan that she wanted to keep busy until it was time to leave.
Instead, she found herself dressed up with nowhere to go and nothing to think about other than Evan for an hour before she needed to leave for Navy Pier.
Meredith purposely waited in her car an extra few minutes before meeting Evan and Lenny Doss.
Evan had volunteered to pick her up and give her a ride, but she had declined, and though she couldn’t say exactly why, it probably had a lot to do with the fact that it was weird enough seeing Evan again—she couldn’t quite bring herself to look at him under the front porch light of her parents’ house right now. It would be just too … eerie.
Besides, she wanted to maintain as much control over the situation as she could. And as she sat in the car watching the minutes tick away on the digital readout in the dash, she reminded herself that was exactly what she was doing.
Maintaining control.
Ten minutes past the time that her stomach began twisting and telling her to hurry up you can’t be late she got out of her car, pushed the lock button on her key chain and walked at a measured pace to the restaurant.
Her biggest dread was being the first one there, sitting like an idiot alone at the table waiting for
