She watched the landscape zip by the window, wondering what it would be like to own a car. Did Wolf have one before he came to the city? In comparison to her other questions, that one carried little importance.
At her stop, she formed part of the robotic line of those debarking. Seemed her corner was the most popular in the business district. For someone with a type A personality, the slow shuffle out of the vehicle irritated her. Why didn’t she sit in the front instead of the middle? She’d asked that of herself before, but as if programmed, she always sought the same seat. Maybe rumors of the safest place to be in an airplane crash had colored her choice. She shook her head at her reasoning. Her mind manufactured ridiculous information as quick as Marie spit out clichés, but spending time with her best friend always provided a bright spot in a workday.
Stepping onto the sidewalk, the coldness teased her nose and nipped at her cheeks. A brisk gust rounded the building and fluttered her hair. She darted through the building’s double doors, immediately recognizing the familiar aroma of photocopy toner and the mustiness of the aged structure mixed with the cigarette smoke that’d followed her in from outside. Although the new ordinance required smokers to maintain a required distance from the entrance, there were some who still sought shelter from the elements against the brick front. She’d never smoked so the expense for something that could eventually kill you baffled her.
The vast difference in temperature dotted her brow with perspiration. Overdressed for the heated building, she peeled off her heavy coat and mittens, and hurried to her office. The brown-tiled hallway had long ago lost its sheen, but not the ability to magnify movement by echoing her every step. Her heels clicked a steady cadence with her pulse, as she worried about an over-abundant workload.
Before opening her door, she paused for a breath. As anticipated, when she stepped inside, the stacks of unedited manuscripts came as no surprise. She attributed the shortness of staff members to Mr. Crane’s business management. Although he called it budgeting, she considered him cheap. Lord forbid if she died. Poor Marie would be left alone and overwhelmed by the ever-growing number of new authors surfacing each month.
Sarah stood, hanging her coat on the rack, when Marie, as if on cue, appeared in the doorway. “Boy, am I happy to see you back….’
Sarah looked down her nose at her littered desk and then back to her friend. “Is that because you missed me or…”
“I’m tickled you’re feeling better, although I didn’t expect you to make such a rapid recovery once I heard your handsome neighbor was taking care of you.” She moved closer to Sarah’s workload, straightened a pile and grinned. “Although, I think it’s pretty apparent why I’m really glad to see you.”
After checking her watch, Sarah motioned to her guest chair. “We still have a few minutes. Stay and catch me up on things. What did I miss?” She sat and put her purse in her bottom desk drawer.
“Nothing really, just the mailman bringing more and more 10x13 envelopes every day.”
Sarah pulled her face into a scowl. “Not that…the party. What happened at the party after I took a nose dive?”
“Oh, that!” Marie fluttered her lips, and then jerked her head around to the sound of footfall in the hallway. She glanced at her own wristwatch. “We’ll have to wait and discuss the party over lunch,” she leaned in and whispered, “I think I hear the slave driver coming to check his minions. See ya then.”
“Good morning, Mr. Crane.” Marie’s voice trailed from the hallway.
Sarah yanked open a manuscript, focused on the title while she patted the desk for her red pen and braced herself.
“Welcome back, Ms. Collins.” The underlying tone in her supervisor’s voice hid any real hint of warmth in his greeting. He stopped square in her doorway. “Glad to see you‘ve recovered. As you’ve probably noticed,” he eyed her desk, “you‘ve been missed.”
She eyed one teetering pile and feigned a smile. “I definitely see that.”
Perhaps now was the time to broach the subject of bringing on new staff. With a deep breath, she gathered her courage. “You know, Mr. Crane, with the growing number of writers seeking our service…despite the fact we’re one of the few companies who deal with mail only, I was wondering—”
“Now, now, Ms. Collins. I have a feeling whatever you were going to say would cost the company money we don’t have. We just have to make do, and if everyone pulls their weight, then we have no need to be frivolous with our expenses. We must keep our budget in the black.”
Frustrated with his last sentence, Sarah nipped the inside of her bottom lip to keep quiet. She’d heard that phrase more times than she could count. Budget, smudget! Hadn’t there been a passing rumor about the new boat he’d purchased during the summer? Didn’t he live in one of the most expensive areas of the city? His inability to entertain the idea of additional staff probably had more to do with having three ex-wives who mothered his children. Repulsed by the idea of sharing a bed with the man, she smacked her mouth at the bad taste. Being a nun, even to a non-Catholic, offered a far better option.
Rather than a response, she simply nodded and pretended to engage herself in the manuscript open before her. When his familiar heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway, she breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, some peace and quiet.
Lunch was hours away, and she had lots to do. She sifted through the stacks on her desk and found the manuscript she’d been working on before she got sick. Only a few pages left, and she’d have one less novel to manage. As she marked a misspelled word, she pictured Crane & Company moving into the computer age. Wouldn’t that put a dent in the old budget? Maybe even make ol’ crater face refinance his new boat. The thought made her chuckle as she went back to reading.
The story came to the happily-ever-after required for most romance novels. She heaved a contented sigh, leaning on her elbows, her thoughts flashing on Wolf. Someway, somehow, she was bound to make their story conclude with the same contented ending.
* * *
At about ten before noon, Sarah buzzed Marie on the phone. “Do you want to venture out or would you rather try the dreaded vending machines?”
“I actually saw the vendor restock them this morning.” Marie emphasized she’d bore witness to a miracle of sorts. “We’re bound to find a sandwich and some chips…maybe even a non-wilted salad. I vote for staying in. Gives us more time to chat, and do I have a story to tell you.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll meet you in the lunchroom.” Sarah fished in her purse for a couple of dollars and some change, took her keys and locked her office. Her heart thudded with excitement. Marie promised something exciting to share and Sarah could only conclude it had to do with Peg.
Already, Marie sat at a table along the far wall. In front of her, a plastic container and a bottle of soda. Sarah waved as she made her own lunch selections. More excited about their pending conversation, she fed money to the machines, made unbiased choices, and ended up with a ham sandwich, a bag of chips and an over-priced bottle of water.
Sharing her friend’s table, she pushed her lunch to the side and leaned forward in her chair. “So…tell me, I can hardly wait.” Her skin tingled with anticipation.
Marie licked a dot of salad dressing from her lips, finished chewing and swallowed. “Oh, where do I begin?”
“From the moment I hit the floor, and don’t leave out one single detail.” Sarah widened her eyes.
“How about what happened before you even arrived?”
Sarah lifted her gaze to the ceiling and visibly shuddered. “Just tell me before I explode.”
“Okay, okay. But let me warn, you’d better keep an eye on your neighbor. She definitely has your man on her radar.”
“Did she say something?”
“Said and did.” Marie took another mouthful of greens, chewing way too slow to Sarah’s likening.
“Honestly, Marie, you’re killing me here.”
She swallowed again. “I can’t help if I’m hungr
y.” She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “I wish you could have seen the way she paraded into the room…well maybe it’s better you didn’t. If she’d had a baton and marched, I would have thought she was leading a band.”
“She does have confidence, I’ll give her that.”
“Confidence? The woman is an arrogant ass, if you ask me. Why, she walked right up to… Wolf…that’s his name isn’t it? Honestly, Sarah, can’t you call him something else?”
“I call him by the name he used when he introduced himself, and that‘s Wolf…now, story, Marie, and stop stalling. We only have a half hour.” Sarah’s impatience fisted her hands and whitened her knuckles.
“You don’t have to get so bossy.” Marie pulled her mouth into a pout, but leaned in closer to avoid letting the nosy women at the next table hear. “Let’s just say Ms. Sexy Pants latched onto Wolf’s arm tighter than a tourniquet on a bleeding wound.”
Marie’s gaze went vacant. “She’s like a moth drawn to a wool sweater…a piss ant to sugar…a--”
“Enough of the clichés…get on with it.” Sarah’s jaw tensed.
“Okay, but I think you get the picture. Why, he had to pry her off his arm to get to your side, and the moment you left on the stretcher, she acted as though he was her husband and she’d encouraged him to save a damsel in distress.”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Clearly, you’ve been reading romance novels for far too long. What did she say?”
“She told me Wolf was clearly interested in her, and she planned to invite him to dinner and pursue their romance. I got the distinct feeling she was on the menu, if you get my drift.”
“Fat chance.” Sarah gulped down her jealousy. “Did she mention why she thinks he’s charmed by her? He says different, but then maybe he’s just telling me what I want to hear.”
Marie shook her head. “Didn’t mention anything specific, which is why I think she’s just arrogant. Clearly, her husband cares for you--.”
“He’s not her husband, so quit calling him that.” Sarah unscrewed the cap from the water and took a long draw.
“All right, settle down. I thought you should know she’s working on a plan, and you definitely put a crimp in it when you showed up in the same costume and then stole the show by collapsing. I’m sorry you got sick, but if you ask me, you dodged an unpleasant bullet by going to the hospital.”
Confused, Sarah cocked her head. “You think she would have made a move on him that night?”
“Oh, she’d already moved in on him. She just planned to rub it in your face and make you do something stupid…at least that’s my opinion.”
Sarah rested her elbow on the table and cupped her chin in an upturned palm. She narrowed one eye and ran a finger along the crease below her bottom lip. “Well, if she assumes her plan is going to work, she’s got another think coming. Wolf is mine. I just have to be the first to convince him.”
Although her words rang with confidence, a little voice in her head kept asking “how.”
Chapter Ten
Getting ready for the dinner party, Sarah stood in front of the mirror and stared at her bloodshot eyes. She’d edited more stories this week than ever--probably broken a record of some sort. Even though there was no paid overtime, she’d toted some manuscripts home to catch up. At least, she’d come up with a plan of her own to hold onto Wolf, and she owed it to her job. Now all she had to do was put the wheels in motion, as Marie would say, using a cliché.
While keeping such a busy schedule, she’d barely seen Molly or Wolf during the week. He’d dropped by for just a few seconds to check on her and remind her about the dinner, but work beckoned and she made the most painful choice when he’d noticed the manuscript spread over her kitchen table. Yes, she’d surprised herself when she cut their visit short in favor of editing, but then it was the very western story she worked on that motivated her to make her move. Hopefully, the plan she considered so grand provided the outcome she sought.
She dosed herself with some eye drops that promised to remove the red, finished her hair and make-up and choose to dress casually. Clad in jeans and a Tennessee Titan’s tee shirt, she locked her door and took a minute to rub her hands together, feeling like a sly pup. This was it. No turning back now.
Wolf answered her knock. His handsome face displayed amusement when he stepped back and lightly slapped his cheek. “Wow, a football fan. I never would have guessed…and Tennessee?”
Sarah grinned. “Actually, I wouldn’t know what team the Titans represented if the state wasn’t printed on the jersey. An author from Nashville sent me the shirt in appreciation for editing her work. I get those kinds of extra perks once in a while.” She walked inside.
Peg, next to Molly in the kitchen, held a glass of wine, and displayed a half-smile that looked anything but welcoming. Always looking the model, she wore a very expensive looking black and red dress that didn’t miss any opportunity to cling to a curve. The diamond pendant dangling over her cleavage drew immediate attention to her bared bosom…as if she needed to point out the obvious. As had become the norm, the woman had overdressed for dining in with friends.
A moment of inferiority seized Sarah, but she squared her shoulders and prepared for Peg’s usual cutting remarks.
Not to disappoint, Peg eyed her up and down, sauntered over to Wolf’s side and crinkled her nose. “Why, Sarah, Wolf told me you’ve been working extra hard. I suppose that’s why you didn’t have time to change your clothes. Poor dear, how are you feeling?”
Anger stiffened Sarah, but she feigned indifference. “Actually, since we’re among friends, I saw no reason to be uncomfortable. I prefer the casual side of life. You should try it some time. There’s no use putting on airs when people know exactly who you are.” She flashed a smile at Wolf.
Taken aback, Peg gasped in a breath and for the moment remained speechless. Clearly uncomfortable, she sauntered back to Molly’s side. “I’m starving, is dinner almost ready. It smells delicious whatever it is.”
Molly bent and peered into the oven. “Herb crusted chicken breasts with rice pilaf and a salad. The bird’s almost done. Everyone have a seat, and by the time we finish our salads, the main course will be ready.”
Sarah sat across from Wolf and placed her napkin in her lap. He looked as yummy as dinner smelled. His hair still damp, probably from a shower, his beautiful smile and eyes…the strong chin, chiseled cheekbones that marked his heritage, and of course the biceps that strained against his western shirtsleeves. She gulped and averted her stare to the floral-patterned stoneware that bedecked the table. Could she be anymore obvious with her attraction? The world didn’t need another Peg.
“So, Sarah, did you catch up on your backlog?” Wolf reached over to fill her wine glass. He paused mid-pour. “You did finish your antibiotics didn’t you?”
“Yes and yes. I have only a few manuscripts left but I’m sure by Monday, my desk will be stacked high again. And as for the medicine…I took it all like a good girl.”
“Poor Sarah.” Peg chimed in. “It must be so boring, what you do for a living…editing is it?”
Sarah locked gazes with her. “Yes, I’m an editor and it isn’t boring at all. In fact, I’ve read some really wonderful stories. Of course, every once in a while, I run across a stinker, but that comes with the territory. I truly love my job.”
“What kind of stories do you deal with? Not fairytales, I hope.” Peg sipped her wine, holding her pinky out like the proper lady she believed she was.
“Oh, I haven’t read fairytales since I was a child. My preference is historical western novels. In fact, I just finished one that was extraordinary.”
“Tell us about it.” Molly moved around the table, placing a filled salad plate in front of each person. “I hope you all like vinaigrette dressing. I probably should have asked sooner, but….”
Hearing no objections, Sarah seized the moment. “As I was saying, the book about to be published tells of a woman who travels from Missouri, head
ed for California, on a wagon train. Along the way, the group is attacked by a war party and the heroine and her newfound friend are the only two to survive.”
Molly slid into her seat. “Sounds fascinating. And Missouri…what a coincidence. Tell us more.”
“What surprised me more than anything are the similarities I found in story. Molly is the name of the heroine’s injured friend, and Wolf is the hero. I couldn’t believe Molly was married to a man named Gil. Is that strange or what?”
“Is there a chance the hero is a half-breed?” Wolf laughed, but his question made it easy for her to continue weaving her dream into the conversation. Best of all, Peg listened without interruption or sarcasm.
Sarah feigned surprise. “How did you guess?”
“So, what happened to the two women?” Molly took a bite of her salad, her gaze locked on Sarah.
“Sadly, Molly didn’t survive her injuries, but the hero saved the heroine even after she tried to steal his horse and he’d been injured by a charging buffalo.”
The way Wolf’s hand slid to his side didn’t go unnoticed by Sarah. As if identifying with the pain, he massaged the exact area that’d been targeted in the dream.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, I just got a sudden ache, but it’s passed now.”
“You can’t blame it on my cooking,” Molly chided. “You haven’t really eaten anything yet.” She leapt to her feet, sending her chair tumbling backwards. “Oh, my gosh, the chicken!”
* * *
Molly needn’t have worried. The chicken was moist, delicious and perfectly done. The chocolate cake she served for dessert was equally as tasty. During the time at the table, Sarah managed to share more of her dream. Something about the interest in Wolf’s eyes as she relayed the story, kept her enthused to tell more.
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