She had to tell them that she was a finalist for the job in St. Michel before she told anyone else, namely Miles. They were her friends and business partners. Now that there was a very real possibility that she would be leaving the show—and be an absentee business partner—she owed them a straight answer. And they deserved to hear it first, before anyone else.
When they all had their coffee and were gathered in her office, a knot, cold and leaden, formed in the pit of her stomach. It struck her that they’d happily come in early just to have coffee in her office.
This was going to be more difficult than she’d bargained for. That’s why it was tempting to let the chitchat continue without interruption.
That is until Pepper turned the subject to Miles. “So give us the update. How did the date go?”
She remembered the feel of his mouth on hers and crossed her arms as if that could provide protection from the longing he stirred in her.
As if.
She traced her bottom lip with one of her fingers.
“It was great. A little overwhelming. I met the entire family.”
“What?” Pepper exclaimed. “Tell us everything.”
Suddenly, three pair of eager eyes were trained on her. Sydney’s nervous gaze skittered to the clock on her computer screen. They were supposed to report to hair and makeup in fifteen minutes. Did she really want to break the news now?
No, actually, she didn’t.
Still, it wasn’t going to get any easier as time went on. It pretty much felt like now or never, which, for a split second, made her question whether she really wanted to leave if it was that hard to share the news about the job interview.
Of course she wanted the job. Frankly, a reality show like Catering to Dallas had a shelf life, and that expiration date would be here sooner than she’d like to believe. Jobs like the St. Michel press secretary position didn’t come along every day. It was time to go.
That didn’t mean she wouldn’t keep in touch. It just meant that it was time to go.
“Hey, Syd, are you with us?” A.J. asked, snapping Sydney out of her thoughts.
“Actually,” she said, purposely not elaborating on her answer to the question about Miles, “I may not be with you much longer. That’s why I asked you to meet me this morning.” She took a deep breath and said the words before she lost her nerve. “I have a job interview in St. Michel. I’m one of two finalists for the position of press secretary to the royal family.”
Three pair of eyes were still riveted on her, only this time they looked as if they were waiting for the punch line to a joke they couldn’t quite figure out.
Sydney held her breath while her friends digested the news.
“You can’t be serious,” said Caroline. “We’re right in the middle of taping the show. You can’t just—” she shook her head “—leave us. We need you.”
We need you.
Why did Caroline have to say it like that? Sydney knew breaking the news wouldn’t be easy, but she had no idea it would be this difficult.
The look on the girls’ faces as realization dawned was nothing short of heartbreaking.
Time for damage control.
Putting a proper spin on something unpleasant was what Sydney did. It was where she excelled. However, at the moment, it seemed that the words she needed to make this easier escaped her. Maybe it was because Caroline’s words still seemed to echo in the air.
We need you.
“You don’t need me,” she finally said. “In fact, you won’t even miss me. Not on Catering to Dallas. Of course, I’ll remain a silent partner in Celebrations, Inc. That is, if that arrangement works for everyone. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. It’s just an interview. They haven’t offered me the job. I simply felt like I should tell you before the interview.”
“Yet,” spat Pepper. “They haven’t offered you the job yet. Of course they will. Unless they’re idiots.”
“Well, thank you…I think?” Suddenly, Sydney’s office seemed unbearably stuffy and close. She wished she could step out into the hall and reclaim her equilibrium. She hadn’t felt this off-kilter since the day she’d learned she was losing her job at Texas Star Energy, the company that had brought her from St. Michel to Celebration, Texas, in the first place. Of course, the layoff had turned out to be a blessing in disguise because Texas Star ultimately crumbled under the weight of a financial scandal. Sydney had narrowly escaped getting caught up in the red tape. And though obviously she’d had no knowledge of the underhanded deals that bilked thousands of people out of millions of dollars, it still felt personal—both the layoff and the company’s demise. She’d felt utterly betrayed and out of control.
How ironic. Now she was the one in control and allowing herself the option of completing the circle by moving back to St. Michel.
For someone who was so in control, why did she feel as if she were coming unglued?
She cleared her throat. “When Texas Star failed and I came on board here at Celebrations, Inc., it was only supposed to be a temporary thing. Remember? I was up-front with you about the fact that I wasn’t sure how long I’d stay in Texas since my place at Texas Star had fallen through. I need to ensure my future and my livelihood. And really, Celebration, Texas, isn’t my home.”
Her voice cracked on the word home, and she had to swallow hard to maintain her composure.
Where was her home? She braced herself for one of them to ask her that very question and remind her that Celebration was the closest thing to home that she’d ever known. These three women were the closest thing to family she’d ever had. Instead, they stared at her in apparent disbelief that made Sydney’s heart ache and had her questioning herself: why was she leaving? She couldn’t ignore the small voice inside her that asked the question.
But she had answers, and she trotted them out one by one as she reminded herself that this was what she needed to do, even if she really didn’t want to do it.
Even though her friends had become more like sisters in the three years she’d known them, this wasn’t the life she wanted. Even at thirty-five, she still longed to find someone to share her life with. That might not mean marriage or a traditional relationship like her friends enjoyed. She might never settle down in that manner, but she wanted a nontraditional man who was happy to be her life mate, one who understood her restless spirit and was willing to explore uncharted waters with her.
They may think they wanted her to stay, but once her friends started having children—and for A.J., that was only a few weeks away—their lives would change drastically. They’d get caught up in diapers and play dates and T-ball teams and carpools. She didn’t want to be the fifth wheel, the honorary auntie, the hanger-on who everyone speculated about: Why doesn’t your friend Sydney find a nice man and get married and settle down? Doesn’t she want kids?
Miles’s face flashed in her mind. That familiar ache fed by the impossibility of the situation made her heart hurt. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and tasted phantom shades of his kiss. If she let herself get more emotionally involved with him than she already was, it was only a recipe for heartbreak.
“You have to understand that I’m single. I’m on my own. You have your husbands and families. I have to make sure I make choices that will ensure my own future security. Despite how much fun we’re having right now, we all know that Catering to Dallas isn’t going to last forever. I have to think about my future and it seems to be pointing toward St. Michel.”
“But what about the Single Ladies cookbook?” Pepper asked. “I have a feeling that’s going to be big. That could be your future.”
Sydney had to bite the insides of her cheeks to keep from pointing out the horrible irony of her statement. Sydney James, forever branded the Single Lady. While that was probably truer than she’d like to admit—after all, she really didn’t want to get married—she didn’t want it permanently tattooed on her forehead. Not even in the metaphorical sense.
“Pepper, I love your enthusias
m,” she said. “And I hope the cookbook does well, too, but I can’t turn down what might be the opportunity of a lifetime for something that is so uncertain.”
Pepper frowned and remained uncharacteristically quiet, which reinforced the fact that this was the right move, no matter how difficult its realities.
A.J. folded her hands atop her basketball belly.
“Is that why you’ve been so hesitant to commit to being my standby Lamaze coach?” she asked.
Wow. They really weren’t going to make this easy on her, were they?
“Yes,” Sydney admitted. “I didn’t want to promise something I couldn’t deliver. If I’m in St. Michel when you go into labor, there’s no guarantee that I’ll get here in time. That’s not fair to you and the baby. I didn’t want to say anything about the job possibility until I knew whether I was one of the final candidates.”
“That’s fair,” A.J. answered, but her expression suggested that she wasn’t happy about it. “But, Syd, the distance shouldn’t have any bearing on whether or not you’re the baby’s godmother.”
Oh, boy. Here we go.
“Except, wouldn’t it be unfair to the child if I lived a continent away? Shouldn’t a baby have a godmother who is part of her life?”
“No, it wouldn’t be unfair,” said A.J. “Being a godmother is really more a symbol of commitment, a promise to always be there.” A.J.’s lower lip quivered. For a moment, Sydney thought her friend might cry, but then she said, “How are you ever going to have this future you’re so desperately seeking if you’re too afraid to put down roots?”
A.J.’s words harkened back to what Maya had asked when Sydney was in St. Michel for the first round of interviews: What are you running from?
Of course, Maya had also said, True friends would be happy for you. They wouldn’t hold you back from your path. Unless you don’t believe this is your path?
As she looked from one face to another, Sydney knew she wasn’t certain it was the right path. But the opportunity was calling. If she stayed here, she’d remain stuck in the no-man’s-land of doing a job that Pepper was much better equipped to handle—at least in this market, where she was much more socially connected. In all her restless years when she’d moved from place to place, Sydney had always believed she’d recognize what she was looking for when she found it.
“There you are.” Miles appeared in the threshold of Sydney’s office, and her breath caught at the sight of him. “Okay, what’s going on in here? It feels like someone died. Is everyone okay?”
“He obviously doesn’t know,” Pepper said.
“I don’t know what?” he asked, casting a wary glance at Sydney.
“I think this is our cue to leave, girls,” said Caroline. “We need to go to hair and makeup anyway.”
She reached out and squeezed Sydney’s shoulder. “Whatever happens, you know we’ll support you,” she said. “That’s what friends do.”
“Of course we will,” A.J. said.
Both she and Pepper hugged Sydney before they slipped past Miles.
Then it was just the two of them, standing face-to-face, with unspoken words hanging in the air like a question mark.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Miles said. He wanted to kiss her good-morning, and he would have if not for this wall he sensed between them. Obviously, it was a wall built of whatever she wasn’t telling him.
“It’s okay,” she said. “You’re not interrupting.”
He fingered the piece of paper he was holding.
“Here, this is for you.” He handed her the paper. She took it and glanced at it. “My mom’s marinara recipe. She emailed it to me. She said she meant to give it to you before we left, but I guess we beat a pretty hasty exit. Was my family too much? I hope they didn’t scare you off because I would really love to see you again.”
He’d learned that the best approach was the direct approach. He’d given her her space yesterday, but she’d occupied his every waking thought. She’d lived in the recesses of his thoughts even when his mind was trained on something else. There was this space inside of him that she’d carved out where she’d taken up permanent residence.
“Your family is wonderful, Miles,” she said. “It was a privilege to meet them. Tell your mom I said thank you for the recipe. I can’t wait to try it.”
“I’ll do that,” he said. “But first tell me what’s going on?”
She nodded, but she wouldn’t look at him. He followed her gaze to the framed Audrey Hepburn poster that dominated one wall of her tiny office.
“I got a callback for the job,” she said. “I’m one of two finalists for the position. I had to tell Pepper, Caroline and A.J. first because they’re my business partners. I felt like I owed it to them to tell them first.”
“I understand,” he said, even though his mind was racing to figure out exactly what that meant for the show. And for them.
“I was going to tell you later.”
His timing was obviously off. That seemed to be a problem lately—meeting her now when she was poised to move a continent away.
He’d met a lot of beautiful women in his lifetime, but none had the certain something that drew him to Sydney.
“Congratulations.” He managed a genuine smile. “I knew you’d get the callback. When is the interview?”
“Thank you, Miles.” Those three words seemed to be filled with such relief that she finally felt like herself again. Especially when she stepped closer and hugged him. Still in his arms, she tilted her chin up to look at him. “I leave in three weeks. They’re having the other finalist and me come in to help with the Royal Anniversary Festival. It will be a working interview.”
“A working interview for what?” Lenny stood in the threshold of the office, one beefy arm braced on the door frame.
Miles and Sydney took a step away from each other. Miles looked to Sydney to tell Lenny as much as she wanted to disclose.
“Don’t keep me in the dark,” Lenny persisted. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I have a job interview,” she said matter-of-factly. Miles loved her no-nonsense strength, especially with Lenny. Lenny was a ballbuster and did his damnedest to intimidate people. It never worked with Sydney.
“What do you mean you have a job interview? Your job is here. You have a contract.”
“Lenny, this isn’t just an average, run-of-the-mill job possibility.”
She explained how she was one of two finalists for the St. Michel press secretary post and how she hadn’t gone looking for the job; they had come to her.
“That’s the place where they discovered the long-lost princess, right? That woman from the States who had no idea she was royalty, right?”
Sydney nodded.
“Is she a friend of yours or something?” Lenny asked.
Again, Sydney nodded, then immediately shot Miles a glance that said she regretted telling him.
Rightfully so.
“So, I guess that means that you’re pretty much a shoo-in for the job,” Lenny said.
The wheels in Lenny’s head were obviously turning. The guy was so transparent. Sydney and Miles exchanged another glance.
“Well, no,” Sydney finally said. “I’m not guaranteed the job. I have to go through the paces like everyone else. They will choose whoever they feel is the best candidate for the position. Whoever will best serve the royal family and the government.”
“And you’re BFFs with the queen,” Lenny snarked. “Yeah. So enough said. No contest. The job is yours, sweetheart. There’s no need for pretense here. We’re your friends, too. Since we are such good buddies, I’ll cut you a deal. When you get the job, I’ll let you out of your Catering to Dallas contract scot-free on one condition. You let our crew follow you on the interview as you’re going through these pretend paces working the Royal Anniversary Celebration. Isn’t that what you said you have to do? Don’t worry, we’ll make it look legit. No one will know it’s fake and fixed.”
Miles had neve
r seen Sydney pull such a face. For a minute, he thought she was going to deck Lenny.
“No.” The word packed a firmer punch than a heavyweight fighter could’ve thrown.
“No?” Lenny mocked. “What do you mean, no?”
Sydney put her hands on her hips. “It means exactly what you know it means, Lenny. No. Even if the government of St. Michel would grant you permission to film the process—allow you to come inside the castle and nose around the private quarters of the family and staff—there’s no way I would ever let you follow me. This is a job interview, Lenny. Bringing my own camera crew would be unprofessional, not to mention it would be in very bad taste.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It would be a boon for a PR person to get a national television show to film something like the Royal Anniversary Celebration. You’re going to be dealing with media, anyway. Why not throw a bone to the ones who gave you your start? Give us the exclusive.”
Sydney’s face flushed scarlet. Somehow Miles knew that all she wanted to do was leave the confines of the office, but Lenny was blocking the doorway with his behemoth cattleman’s frame.
“Lenny,” Miles said, “Sydney’s right. It’s not appropriate. It would put undue pressure on Sydney in an already stressful situation. Besides, even if she and the powers that be in St. Michel were willing to let you follow her, the budget won’t allow us to load up the crew on such short notice and trek over to Europe. Sydney, isn’t it time for you to go to hair and makeup? Lenny, you might want to let her out so that we don’t get behind schedule.”
Chapter Ten
“I didn’t get a chance to say this earlier, but I really appreciate how you handled Lenny this morning,” Sydney said as they got into Miles’s car to go interview the third candidate for the Celebration’s Bride special.
Miles slanted a wry smile at her as he eased the car onto the highway. “He’s full of good ideas, isn’t he?”
“He’s full of something, but I don’t know if it’s good ideas.”
Harlequin Special Edition July 2013 - Bundle 1 of 2: Marooned with the MaverickHer McKnight in Shining ArmorCelebration's Bride Page 47
