I’ll…”
The sound of movement behind her stopped her words. She turned. Ross stood in the doorway. How long had he been there?
“I don’t want to take you away from your party, but I do need to get back to the office.”
“That’s all right,” she said quickly. “I’ll just get my things.”
Had he heard her conversation with Miz Callie or hadn’t he? It worried at her as she gathered her things. She had to say goodbye to everyone, had to endure all the teasing about being a year older and exchange a special hug with Annabel, aware all the time that her boss stood waiting.
Finally, she got out the door, walking to the car with Ross on her heels.
The air between them sizzled with more than the summer heat as she started the car and turned the air-conditioning on high. And that was her answer. He’d heard something of what Miz Callie said. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she did. It was just there, in his concentrated expression.
They passed the island’s park, the small collection of shops and restaurants, the old Gullah cemetery. Finally, as they approached the drawbridge that would take them off the island, she could stand it no longer.
“You heard what my grandmother said, didn’t you?”
If that sounded like an accusation—well, she guessed it was. She spared a fleeting thought for her fired colleagues. Maybe she’d soon be joining them.
Silence for a moment. She saw the movement of his head at the edge of her vision as he turned to look at her.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping, if that’s what you’re implying.” His tone was surprisingly even. “I realized that your grandmother was upset, so I didn’t come in. I’m not in the habit of listening in on the worries of elderly ladies.”
She wasn’t sure that she believed him. Still—
“You’d best not let her hear you call her elderly.” She managed an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I hate it when she gets upset.”
It was none of his business what Miz Callie had been upset about. Amanda had the sudden sense that the family skeleton had grown to an unmanageable size and was about to burst from its closet.
“You have a good heart.” He sounded almost surprised.
“I love her,” she said. “I’m sure you felt the same about your grandmother.”
He nodded, staring out the window at the marsh grasses and pluff mud.
There didn’t seem anywhere else to go with that conversation. She cleared her throat. “I hope meeting my people was helpful to you. For the articles, I mean.”
“Very. You’ll set up that appointment with your father as soon as possible.”
“Right.” When he didn’t respond, she glanced at him. “Don’t you want to talk to anyone else? My cousin Win is a rescue swimmer.”
She held out the prospect enticingly. Win, an outgoing charmer, would be delighted to be interviewed, and surely that would be more interesting to readers than Daddy’s desk job.
“What?” Her question seemed to have recalled Ross from some deep thought. “Yes, I suppose. I’ll think about it and let you know.”
Odd. Not her business, she guessed, how he approached the series of articles he said he was writing, but odd all the same.
She stole a sideways glance at him. His lean face seemed closed against the world, his eyes hooded and secretive.
Why? What made him so forbidding? The professional scandal they’d all heard of, or something more?
She gave herself a mental shake. This was the man who kept the entire news staff dangling over the abyss of unemployment. Maybe she felt a bit easier in his presence since this little expedition, but that didn’t mean she knew him.
Or that she could trust him any farther than she could throw him.
He was going to have to tread carefully with Amanda, Ross decided. Something had made her suspicious of him after that family party the previous day.
He stood back to let the high school student intern precede him into the newsroom, assessing the young woman as he did. Cyrus Mayhew had chosen the recipient of his journalism internship on the basis of her writing, not her personality.
C. J. Dillon was bright, no doubt about that. She was also edgy and more than a little wary.
Suspicious, like Amanda.
The new intern had no reason for her suspicion, other than maybe the natural caution of a young black woman from a tough inner-city school toward the establishment, represented at the moment by him.
Amanda, on the other hand…well, maybe she did have just cause. He’d told the truth when he said he’d stopped outside the kitchen because he’d realized her grandmother was upset. He’d just neglected to mention that he’d heard the word scandal used in relation to her family. Or that all his instincts had gone on alert.
If he wanted to find out what scandal in the Bodine family would leave the grandmother in tears, he’d better find a way to mend fences with Amanda.
Assigning the student intern to her might disarm her. From what he’d seen of Amanda’s relationship with everyone from the mail room kid to the cleaning crew, taking in strays was second nature to her.
“This way.” He moved ahead of C.J. to lead her through the maze of desks in the newsroom. A few cautious glances slid their way. C.J. couldn’t know that the looks were aimed at him, not her.
All right, so his staff didn’t trust him. That was fine with him. He was here to turn this newspaper around, not make friends. He didn’t need any more so-called friends who waited with a sharpened knife for him to make a slip.
Amanda’s desk was at the far end of the row. Focused on her computer, a pair of glasses sliding down her nose, she didn’t see them coming. She wore her usual version of business casual—well-cut tan slacks, a silky turquoise shirt, a slim gold chain around her neck.
That was a bit different from the way she’d looked at the beach house in an old pair of shorts and a Fort Moultrie T-shirt. He let his mind stray to the image. That had definitely been casual, to say nothing of showing off a pair of slim, tanned legs and a figure that would make any man look twice.
He yanked his unruly thoughts back to business. Amanda’s only usefulness to him was the opening she provided to the Coast Guard base. And given that tantalizing mention of scandal, to the Bodine family in particular.
He stopped a few feet from her desk, feeling the need for a little distance between them.
“Ms. Bodine.” Amanda, he thought, but didn’t say.
Her gaze jerked away from the computer screen. The startled look she turned on him softened into a smile when she saw that he wasn’t alone. No, the smile wouldn’t be for him.
“This is C. J. Dillon. C.J., I’d like you to meet
