by Nancy Martin
“Not everything,” he said, matching her tone.
“Joe, I...”
“Yes?”
Susannah was silent for a long time. Then she said, “I wish my life were simple, but it isn’t. I can’t give up everything just like that.”
“I’m not asking you to give up anything. I just want us to be together.”
“But that means I have to give up everything else,” she argued reasonably. “Unless you want to move to Milwaukee.”
“I can’t do that. Gina’s home is here in Tyler. She needs some stability, and this is the best I can do for her.”
“I know. But my work is in the city. And I can’t conduct a relationship on weekends. I work then, too. Roger needs me—”
“He can’t control every minute of your life. And he does, Susannah. He doesn’t even want you to take time to see your grandmother. He’s afraid of losing ‘Oh, Susannah!”’
With another sigh, Susannah said, “I’m beginning to see that. But what can I do?”
“I’ll tell you what. You can start by—”
But she laughed. “That was a rhetorical question, Joe, not an invitation for you to take charge of my life.”
“But—”
“I’m not your daughter or one of the elderly ladies you manage to control with your combination of charm and bossiness. I’m not giving up ‘Oh, Susannah!’ I can’t. I just have to find more balance in my life. And I have to do it myself, not at your command.”
“Susannah...”
“I won’t have you running my life.”
“Roger does.”
“He tries,” she admitted. “But he also accepts the fact that I have a mind of my own. I’m not sure you do.”
“I’m starting to realize it.”
She laughed lightly, but didn’t sound amused. “I just wanted to tell you how I felt. I’m sure we’ll talk again. But for now...”
“Susannah—”
“I’ve had enough for one night,” she said, cutting off his argument kindly. “Let’s think things over before we continue this discussion.”
“I’ll be over first thing in the morning.”
“No, don’t do that. Roger will be here. I need to get a few things straight with him, all right?”
Joe had work to finish at Timberlake, anyway. “All right,” he agreed. “If that’s what you want.”
“You see?” she asked, a smile in her voice. “You’re getting better already. Good night, Joe. Sweet dreams.”
It was five minutes before Joe realized he hadn’t settled the matter of the imaginary Angelica. But the more he thought about it, the more Joe realized that Angelica was a problem Gina had created. She should be the one to resolve it.
* * *
IN THE MORNING, Susannah faced Roger over breakfast. Naturally, he came downstairs freshly showered and dressed casually—as casually as Roger Selby ever dressed. His wool trousers were neatly creased and he wore a cardigan sweater over a starchy button-down shirt.
He was astonished to find Susannah still in her bathrobe.
“Oh, excuse me,” he said, faltering in the doorway. “I’ll come back when you’re decent.”
“For crying out loud, Roger, I’m perfectly decent!” Susannah made space on the cluttered counter for the coffee maker and plugged it in. “Come in and sit down. I’ll get you a muffin.”
“Do you have any bran cereal?”
“Of course,” she said patiently, guiding Roger by one stiff arm to the table. “Now, sit. I’m sorry about the mess. Granny Rose and I were too tired to clean up after the party last night. I guess we have our work cut out for us today.”
Roger seated himself in one of the comfortable kitchen chairs and proceeded to look completely uncomfortable. He wasn’t accustomed to chatting with women in their kitchens. Roger much preferred to conduct business from across the neatly arranged expanse of his office desk. But he made an effort at conversation by asking, “Where is your grandmother this morning? I didn’t get a chance to thank her for her offer of a room last night.”
“She’s still in bed. I checked on her a few minutes ago, and she’s still sleeping.” Frowning at the thought, Susannah busied herself at the kitchen counter. “She looked terribly exhausted by the end, don’t you think? I’m very worried about her.”
“Actually, Susannah, I didn’t come to Tyler to discuss your grandmother’s health. It’s your career that’s on my mind.”
Susannah withheld a sigh of resignation. She knew there was no avoiding the discussion to come. But she didn’t want to suffer through one of Roger’s patented “career-plan strategies.” He could go on for hours talking about the future of the television station and Susannah’s vital role in it.
She set a place at the table for him, then dished him up a bowl of bran cereal and poured skim milk over it. Setting the bowl in front of him, she said firmly, “I know what you’re going to say, Roger. But for once, will you let me have the first word?”
Roger looked startled. “By all means.”
Susannah sat down across from him and propped her chin in her hands. “Look,” she began, “it’s not that I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for me in the past, Roger. I have you to thank for my success.”
It wasn’t quite true, but Susannah was feeling generous and wanted to butter up her boss.
While Roger ate his cereal, she continued, “But I’m starting to think I need to make some drastic changes in my life, Roger. I’m not happy in Milwaukee.”
“Not happy!”
“I feel as if I’m going through the paces, that’s all. I’m not living my life anymore. I’m letting you and ‘Oh, Susannah!’ guide it.”
Frowning, Roger said, “You’re blaming me for a personal problem?”
“No. I’m sorry if it sounds that way. I meant that my life hasn’t felt very full. And I feel as if my time is starting to run out. Can you understand that, Roger? I want to have a life before I miss my chance.”
“What do you mean?” Roger had raised his spoon to his mouth, but he froze, milk dripping onto the table, as shock set in. “You’re not leaving ‘Oh, Susannah!’?”
“No,” she said at once. “I’m not. At least, not yet. But I have to cut back, Roger. I can’t be consumed by the show every waking minute of my life. I want more.”
“More what?”
Susannah lifted her hands helplessly. “Family. Friends. And passion! Passion for something other than ratings and time slots.”
Roger put his spoon back into the bowl. “Do you feel passion—” he stressed the word distastefully “—for that big fellow who was here last night?”
“His name is Joe.”
“How appropriate,” Roger said, allowing an unpleasant smile to flicker on his mouth. “And he’s some kind of mechanic, your grandmother tells me?”
“He’s a carpenter, Roger, and don’t be condescending, please. Just because a man works with his hands...well, Joe may not have the ability to schedule television programs like you do, but he’s very talented in other ways.”
“Now who’s being condescending?”
It was impossible to argue with Roger. He used every trick in the book. If he wasn’t being manipulative and making Susannah feel guilty, he was turning the tables so it was impossible for her to do likewise. Susannah sighed, hoping to hang on to her temper for once.
“I’m not going to argue the good qualities of Joe Santori. Why, I’ve only met the man recently. But he’s helped me come to a few conclusions about myself, Roger. I’ve got a lot to give, and I can’t go through life just giving it to a television audience.”
“What’s your plan?”
How like Roger to expect a plan when Susannah had only started thinking about the problem. She said, “I don’t have one yet. But I’d like to phase out of ‘Oh, Susannah!’ Maybe do the show only a few days a week. Maybe I could get a cohost to take some of the load.”
“Cohost?”
“Someone like Josie, for
instance. She’d be good—maybe better than I am.”
“She lacks the homey quality you have, Susannah.”
“She could learn. She’s got a future, Roger. You know that as well as I do because you hired her.”
Roger eyed her solemnly. “You want to quit.”
“No. Maybe.” Susannah shook her head. “I’m not sure. I’m not too old to have children. Maybe someday I’d like to—”
“Good Lord,” Roger said. “I should have known it was your biological clock ticking. I thought you hated children.”
“I don’t hate them. I just don’t know how to handle them. But I can learn. I’m starting to see that. All I need is a chance.”
“How will you support yourself if you stop working for me?”
“I’ll manage. I have an idea.”
Roger looked interested. “Tell me about it.”
Roger might have been a little unfeeling when it came to his programs, but he had a very sharp head for business—especially when it came to self-promotion and public relations. And he had been her closest friend and colleague for a long time. So Susannah took the plunge and told him all about her book idea. She poured coffee for both of them and talked for nearly half an hour. Roger made a couple of astute observations and suggested a particular agency that specialized in booking talent for talk shows.
“You could do the whole circuit once your book is ready for distribution,” Roger said. “I could make a few calls to get you on the national programs, if you like.”
Susannah wasn’t surprised that Roger would be willing to help promote her book. He was a pro. But it was a revelation to learn that Roger, who had always been a commandeering boss, didn’t hold a grudge after all.
A quick wave of friendship for him caught Susannah unawares. It tugged at her heart and brought an involuntary smile to her face.
“What are you thinking?” Roger asked, seeing her expression.
“Nothing,” Susannah said, leaning across the table toward him and impulsively covering his hand with her own. “Just...thank you. You’ve been a first-rate boss and a first-rate friend, Roger.”
“And this Santori fellow?”
“What about him?”
“Do your plans for the future include him?”
“I’m not planning a future with Joe Santori,” Susannah said. “But he wouldn’t be a bad choice if I were. Joe’s a good man, Roger. Kind and hardworking and...well, I don’t mind saying he’s sexy as hell.”
Roger smiled sadly. “That sort of thing passes, Susannah. At a certain age, sex becomes unimportant.”
“Maybe to you,” Susannah shot back.
He looked surprised. “What does that mean?”
“I’d just like to give sex a chance, that’s all. I feel as if I’ve missed out on something because I really haven’t let my hair down all these years.”
“And your carpenter is a sexual athlete, is he?”
“Don’t be crude, Roger.”
“Sex aside, you have to admit the man has nothing to offer you, Susannah.”
“You hardly know him!”
“Can you list one good quality?”
“Certainly. He’s got a sense of humor, and his singing voice is magnificent.”
“Great. He can entertain you with singing telegrams.”
“He’s also very generous, sweet and gentle, yet he...well, he challenges me. He makes me look at things differently. We enjoy the same things—music and movies and...just plain people, I guess. But he’s got a different perspective, and I like it.”
Roger gazed at Susannah steadily. “Have you told him that?”
“No,” Susannah admitted. “I suppose I should.”
* * *
JOE HAD a terrific row with his daughter and came perilously close to forbidding her to attend the Tinsel Ball that evening.
“You can’t go through life lying just for the fun of it! And lying to Susannah Atkins, of all people! If it hadn’t been for the Atkins family, you’d be sitting at home tonight, the laughingstock of all your friends! And the way things look right now, you might be locked in your bedroom tonight, anyway—tonight and every night for the next four years!”
For once, Gina was chagrined by her own behavior. Her voice was barely a murmur. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
Joe ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. “You’re only sorry because I’m threatening to keep you away from the dance tonight.”
“No, really.” Gina’s large dark eyes were liquid with pain and humiliation. “I’m sorry I told Susannah that stuff about a girlfriend.”
“Why did you do it?” Joe demanded. “Why would you make up such a story about me?”
Gina’s head drooped, and she couldn’t meet his eye. “I dunno,” she mumbled.
“Just to embarrass me?”
“No, Dad. I never meant... It just slipped out, I guess. I don’t know why. We’ve been talking about Mom a lot lately, and...well, suddenly there was this really pretty lady in our house asking questions about you. I was afraid.”
“Afraid?” Joe felt his anger drain out as if a plug had been pulled. “Afraid of what?”
Gina crumpled onto the sofa and curled up, hugging her knees against her chest. She couldn’t meet her father’s gaze. “Afraid you were going to forget about Mom, I guess.”
“Gina, honey...”
“I mean, I know she’s dead and you miss her. That’s not the problem. Before she died, Mom said you should get married again. But I didn’t want another mother. I still don’t.”
“A mother isn’t somebody you replace, Gina. Neither is a wife. If I got married again, I wouldn’t be erasing your mom.”
Gina’s head snapped up. “Then you are thinking about getting married?”
“No! Not this minute, anyway. But someday, maybe. If the right woman came along, I suppose.”
“Is Susannah Atkins the right woman?”
Joe hadn’t expected such hard questions from his daughter. For a moment he was at a loss for words. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I’ve only known her a short time.”
“Well, she’s okay,” Gina said gruffly. “If you had to marry somebody, I guess it could be her. She’s not exactly the motherly type, is she?”
“She’s herself,” Joe said.
“She doesn’t try bossing me around,” Gina noted, adding darkly, “and she’d better not start.”
“I’m sure she’d have mixed feelings about dealing with you at all, young lady, after what you’ve done.”
Again, Gina’s expression was contrite. “Did I mess things up for you, Dad?”
“Would you be happy if you did?”
“N-no,” Gina murmured. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Joe softened with love for his daughter. Despite her troublemaking tendencies, she was still the best thing in his life. “You didn’t hurt me, Gina. You caused some trouble, but nothing that can’t be fixed. But you are going to do the fixing, my girl.”
Gina looked startled. “Me? What am I going to do?”
“You’re going to get yourself over to the Atkins house before the dance and explain everything.”
“Oh, Dad!”
“I’m one hundred percent serious, Gina. You can’t lie whenever it suits you and get off scot-free. You’re going to tell Susannah that you lied, and then you’re going to apologize.”
“Dad!” she cried in anguish.
“I’ve been too easy on you,” Joe said resolutely. “I’ve mended your fences in the past, but this time you’re going to take care of it yourself. Maybe the experience will teach you a lesson that will end this lying business for good.”
“You’re mean! I’ll be so embarrassed!”
“Good,” Joe shot back. “Now go call Lars and tell him there will be a slight detour before the dance tonight. He can drive you over to the Atkins house to show Mrs. A. your dress. She told me last night how much fun she had helping you shop for it. The least you can do is visit her before the dance.”
&n
bsp; Gina surprised him by saying, “I already planned to do that, Dad.”
Satisfied that he’d done his fatherly duties, Joe worked the rest of the day. He drove to Timberlake Lodge to check on the final renovations, then hurried back to the house to shower and dress.
All day he thought about what Gina had said—about marrying again. Could a woman like Susannah Atkins be happy as the wife of a simple man in a small town? Or was she cut out for the more glamorous life of a television personality?
Joe suspected he’d find out soon. The evening, he thought, promised to be very enlightening.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ROSE WAS SURPRISED to open her front door at six-thirty on Friday evening and find Joe Santori standing on her threshold. He looked more handsome than ever to her, and the glimmer of light in his eyes made her smile.
“You’re a vision tonight, Mrs. A.!” Joe gave Rose a hard kiss on her forehead and presented her with a bunch of flowers—mostly red carnations with a jaunty plastic Santa in the middle.
“My land! Where did you get flowers in the dead of winter?”
He grinned and stepped into the house, thoughtfully closing the door behind himself. “At the supermarket. They certainly don’t match your beauty tonight. Is that a new sweater?”
“This old thing? Heavens, no!” But Rose was pleased nevertheless. Joe always made her feel young. “What are you doing here? Certainly you’re not coming to look at the plumbing?”
“Nope,” said Joe. “My charming daughter will be here any minute to explain. Gina and Lars Travis have gone over to his parents’ house to take some pictures before the big dance. But they’d like to drop in here to show off Gina’s dress—and make a few apologies.”
“Apologies for what?”
Joe lifted his palms. “My little girl has an active imagination, Mrs. A. She’s been known to create a story when she sees a situation she doesn’t like. I’m sorry to say that she led Susannah astray.”
“About Angelica?”
“Oh, you heard that, too?”
“Yes, we thought...” Rose hardly dared to hope.
Cheerfully, Joe said, “There is no Angelica. She doesn’t exist. Gina saw Susannah getting too close for comfort and thought she’d try keeping us apart by making up a girlfriend for me.”
