Ah crap. Here she comes.
Before she reached him, he shouldered his camera bag and headed toward the exit.
“Hey.” She jogged the last few steps to catch up. “Everything go okay?”
What did she mean by that? “Fine.” He glanced at Paul. “Everything go okay with you?” He laid heavy on the sarcasm.
To his surprise, she flashed a smile.
“Yes. Really well. I’m going to have coffee. I just—”
He narrowed his eyes and shrugged. “What? Did you forget we didn’t drive together?”
She bit her lip. “No. I wanted to check in, that’s all. Let you know I’ll be at the office in a little while.”
He snorted. “Thanks.” For the warning. “See you.” But not before every other guy in town, apparently.
Glad he had this little glimpse of her social interactions, he mixed with the rest to trod to the hall.
At least he’d have some time without her at work. He could use it.
****
Sydney watched Ben leave, unsure of what to make of his snide comments. She’d been painfully aware of his presence throughout the event. Things had apparently gone awry between them, but she didn’t know why. Maybe the best thing was to back off. Like she’d told Claudia, she’d try to forget anything happened. The problem was, she couldn’t get it out of her mind. The more she tried to forget, the more vivid the memory of that night became.
The night they’d both attended the Pennsylvania Newspaper Association annual awards banquet in Philadelphia, she’d first run into him at the dining room’s bar setup. He’d let her cut in line in front of him, then joked about the awful chicken dinner awaiting them. Throughout dinner, their gaze met across two tables again and again. She’d noticed the woman sitting next to him, but they didn’t appear to be a couple – the few times they spoke, an angry look came across her face, and she ignored him, for the most part. He ate little, but his beer was perpetually filled. Their glances locked time and again throughout the ceremony. When he accepted his award, he smiled at her as he returned to his seat. The woman next to him never noticed; too interested in everyone else, she hadn’t noticed much about him all night.
Afterward, when he suggested they try the bar down the street, Sydney accepted. He was a little drunk, but so adorable. It had been too long since she’d felt butterflies in her stomach when a guy looked at her. Not just a few butterflies. A swarm that in ancient times might be referred to as a plague blackening the skies. He’d ordered their drinks and led her to a booth in the back. After setting the drinks on the table, he turned to her and kissed her with an urgency that sent red lights flashing in her head. For the next two hours, they’d talked and kissed and kissed and talked. She knew it was the start of something – something once-in-a-lifetime.
Until she found them. Glaring with the rage of a jilted woman, her shrieking turned every head in the bar their way. Ben’s wide eyes searched Sydney’s as he apologized. He followed the screaming banshee like a man being led to the gallows. And that was the last she’d seen him, until the staff meeting.
Paul’s hand was at her back. “Ready?”
A split second of mental reorganization, and cold, hard reality returned. “Yes. I’m ready.”
She was ready to put that night behind her, once and for all.
****
Just before five, Ray passed by Ben’s desk. “Happy hour tonight. You going?”
“Absolutely.” No one waited for him at the farm. It would be good to hang out a bit.
“You know the way? I’m headed there now if you’re ready.”
“Great, let’s go.” His smile faded as Ray headed out and Ben’s gaze landed on Sydney across the room.
She glanced up before he could look away, and her look zinged through him as sure as an electric jolt. She hastily turned back to her computer.
Fine. I get the message. He wasn’t about to get in line behind the other guys to fawn over her.
In three quick steps, he caught up to Ray and wondered if the guy played sports in addition to writing about them.
Along the few blocks they walked, Ray mostly recapped the local sports scene. As they entered Mark’s Bar, Ben surveyed the room. “Dave should hold staff meetings here. They might be more productive.” Few customers inside the bar were not Harrisburg News employees.
Chuckling, Ray nodded to where Dave stood. “Mention it to him. I’m sure he’ll take it under advisement.”
Right, better watch his mouth until he had a better feel for the staff. Scanning the crowd, he muttered, “Shit.”
Brows arched, Ray sent him a questioning glance. “What?”
Damn. So much for watching his mouth. He grinned. “Oh nothing. I thought I’d left my wallet in the truck, but it’s right here. Can I buy you a beer?”
“Anytime.” Ray took an open spot at the counter and signaled the bartender. Eric and Jon joined them, and soon all three peppered Ben with questions – why had he left Philadelphia, was the Daily News hiring, the general downturn of most newspapers. Throughout the lively conversation, Ben found himself searching for Sydney.
She sat with Claudia and Louann at one of those high tables, her legs dangling in a sexy pose. Not contrived, like some other women. Sydney simply moved with a natural grace that made all her motions appear fluid, probably due to her height. At five ten, most women reached half a head or so beneath Ben, but with Sydney he stood almost eye to eye. Kind of a nice feeling, like they were equals. Walking behind her, he always imagined what it would feel like to fit himself against her soft curves.
Ray broke through his thoughts. “Another one?”
At that moment, Sydney stood, adjusted the clingy fabric of her suit pants and approached the bar.
Without thinking, he moved toward her like a raft swept along the river to the falls. “No thanks. Excuse me.”
****
Sydney caught a glimpse of Ben standing at the bar with Eric. He leaned on an elbow, nodding as Eric talked. Reflexively, she ducked her head in the opposite direction.
Claudia sat on a high stool. “Great people-watching spot. I love it.”
Louann’s boisterous voice was like a shot of good cheer. “Isn’t it great? Everyone’s clustered by department. Sports in the center, photographers at the bar, editors everywhere.”
“If I expected anything more, I’d only be disappointed.” Claudia dug through her purse. “Any sign of a waitress?”
Louann frowned at her bottle. “I ordered another beer fifteen minutes ago. I think she forgot me.”
“Do you want me to get you another?” Sydney shouldered her handbag. “I’m going up for ours. I owe you one, Claude. What’ll you have?”
“You’re a sweetheart. Tonight’s a martini kind of night – vodka, with a twist.”
Louann held up her bottle. “Another one of these, please.” She fluttered a bill toward her.
Sydney waved it away. “It’s on me.” Avoiding Ben, she crossed to the other end of the bar and ordered. While she waited, she pulled out her cell to appear busy, but her neck hairs prickled until the bartender set the drinks in front of her.
A beer bottle plunked down.
Ben placed a twenty beside it. “And another beer, please.” Glancing at her order, he leaned an elbow on the counter. “You’re in for a hangover tomorrow.”
An attempt at humor? Hard to tell when he didn’t break a smile. “Hey.”
His brows twitched as he studied her at close range. Too close. “Hey, yourself. I’m surprised you’re here.”
She sipped her wine with as nonchalant an air as she could muster with her stomach in knots. “Why?”
“You’ve been so busy lately.” He emphasized busy. His wide eyes bored into hers, even though his tone teased.
And you’ve been so moody. She flipped her hair behind her shoulder. “Yes. It’s been a crazy couple of weeks.”
He leaned closer, his voice low. “Listen, I wanted to say…” His brows twitched as
he stared at the napkin he fingered.
Her breath shallow, her mind raced as she watched him struggle for words. That you finally remember me? Or maybe I seem vaguely familiar, and you can’t place where we met, even though you had your tongue down my throat for oh, two or more hours? “What?” The hair on her neck stood on end like an antenna. A signal, no matter how small, was all she needed.
An overly boisterous voice startled them both. “Hello.”
They turned in unison.
“Paul Jackson with the AP.” He held out his hand to Ben, and they shook. His chipper voice felt intrusive after Ben’s intimate tone. If he’d waited two more minutes, maybe just one more, she’d know what Ben had wanted to say.
Crap. She glanced from Paul to Ben. “Hi. What are you doing here?”
Ben widened his eyes, then narrowed them, then slugged his beer.
“You mentioned tonight’s happy hour, so I thought I’d stop by and say hello.” Paul called to the bartender for a whiskey. “Can I get you anything?”
“I just ordered.” She glanced across the room at Claudia, who watched with a bemused look. “In fact, I need to bring my editor her drink.”
Paul touched the small of her back. “Yes. Let’s not keep your editor waiting.” He gave a curt nod and smiled at Ben. “Good to meet you.”
A dismissal if she’d ever seen one. But she didn’t want to get rid of Ben now. She met his gaze, wishing words could convey her helplessness. What were you going to tell me?
The warmth in his eyes had turned to a cold distance, so there was no point in asking now. She turned and walked toward the table.
She set Claudia’s drink near her. “Sorry for the wait.”
Claudia looked at the sweat dripping down the glass. “The waitress has been here twice since you left.”
“My fault. I held her up.” Paul smiled. “How are you, Claudia?”
“Very well. Good to see you.” She looked from Paul to Sydney. “You two collaborating on something I don’t know about?”
He laughed. “I’ve admired Sydney’s work for a long time. The News’ coverage of the mayor these past few weeks has been top notch.”
Claudia held up her glass in toast. “Sydney’s been the driving force.”
“And Ben.” She glanced toward the bar as Ben sent a surly look her way. “We brainstormed about how to follow up with the online survey. And without his photos, my articles wouldn’t have gotten nearly as much notice.”
Her overzealous attribution met with open-mouthed silence around the table.
As if she’d willed it, Ben walked toward her with purpose in his stride. Her heart fluttered in her chest until he stopped at the next table and began talking to Dave.
Paul nodded. “Mayor Reeves has had it coming. Maybe marriage will improve him.” He swigged his drink.
Claudia arched her brow. “Marriage?”
He leaned an elbow on the table. “I had a text message from my colleague a few minutes ago. Mayor Reeves announced his engagement at some association dinner tonight. Said she’s the Republican girl of his dreams.”
Ben smirked. “Now that’s strategic positioning.”
Paul laughed. “As they say, politics makes strange bedfellows. It may end his little indiscretions, at least.”
“Indiscretions?” With two steps, Ben stood next to her. His hand grazed Sydney’s arm as he rested it on the edge of the table.
A signal? Somehow it didn’t seem accidental. Though he gave total attention to Paul, she sensed he watched her in his peripheral vision.
Paul shrugged. “Rumors fly through the Capitol newsroom all the time. This past year, the mayor has featured prominently in them.”
Claudia sat straight. “We’ve ignored them because he was single. We’re not a gossip rag.”
Paul sipped his whiskey. “It’ll be a different story once he’s married.”
“Marriage might bring out the best in him. Who knows?” Sydney tipped her wine glass in silent cheers.
Louann cackled. “For a jaded journalist, Sydney, you’re too optimistic.”
Paul’s laugh joined with Louann’s. “It’s rare for marriage to bring out the best in anyone.” His smile faded as he glanced at Sydney.
She cocked an unappreciative brow. Why doesn’t he just go away?
The heat traveling from Ben’s arm to Sydney’s faded. She risked a glance and her hopes deflated. He’d edged away.
“Sometimes,” Ben said, “it’s best to avoid marriage altogether.”
Says the guy who was engaged a year ago. Sydney tilted her head toward him. “Why do you say that?”
“As they say, it’s a fine line between love and hate.” He lightened his tone, but something in the way he looked at her, the gleam in his eye, sent a tingle through her.
“Spoken like a true cynic.” She held up her glass to him in toast, but her insides tightened. His subtext spoke volumes.
“I’m merely stating an opinion.” His flat voice tamped the atmosphere at the table.
Sydney struggled to contain her anger. “With that attitude, failure is the only option. So you’re right, you’re better off avoiding it.” Weeks of repressed feelings were taking their revenge. Not much she could do about it now. Raving lunatic that she was, she only hoped she wasn’t frothing at the mouth.
Ben stammered as if grasping for words. “I thought we were talking about the mayor.” His lips settled into a smirk.
Her neck and cheeks burned. “We are.” You asshole.
Claudia’s smile was too perfect. “If all this is true, we’ll need to map out how we’ll handle it. Tomorrow morning, let’s discuss this further. For now, maybe we should move on to a different topic.”
Ever the concise editor. “Fine.” Sydney felt like a chastised child. A sharp pain invaded her head, and she rubbed her temple. “I have a terrible headache. I’m going to head home.”
Paul touched her arm. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Thanks.” She forced a smile at him and glanced at Ben.
The smirk gone, his brown eyes filled with sadness.
****
April. Every time Ben had the urge to get closer to Sydney, April’s face loomed. Screaming. Calling him a bastard.
Maybe he could give her that. But only if April had conceded how she’d twisted his feelings into a sailor’s knot, and he only now was beginning to unravel them.
Moonlight gave the farmland he passed an eerie look, like Norman Rockwell had painted a horror scene. Fitting for tonight.
Someday he’d learn to keep his big mouth shut around Sydney. For some reason, his mouth wanted to jabber away to her, open up the dark recesses of his brain and let her in. Her warmth, her smile, her quirky way of looking at the world…
No, he couldn’t chance it. Last time he did that, all hell broke loose and his world crumbled apart. Unwittingly, his boot pressed heavier on the accelerator. A stop sign came up too quick, and he jammed the brake. The truck jolted to a halt about a foot beyond the sign. A horn blared, and an approaching SUV swerved, missing his bumper by inches. Silver flashed as its doors framed his windshield, an angry face glaring his way. Its glowing red tail lights receded.
Shit! Ben forced an exhale to release his heart from his throat. Freaking hidden sign tripped him up last night, too, but he’d made a mental note to remember.
Thoughts of Sydney ignited that mental note, and left a smoldering ruins in his brain.
After checking both directions, he edged the truck across the intersection. Pace yourself. Yeah, in everything.
****
Over the next week, Sydney honed her powers of concentration. She focused on work and little else. Any thought of Ben, she banished immediately. The image of him leaning close, about to tell her something. What?? her brain screamed. She shushed it. The tingling heat along her arm when his touched hers, the memory of skin against skin. Oo, more. Something swelled up from deep within. She crushed it.
No. No more.
At the staff meeting, Dave assigned her and Ben to cover several stories for a special Sunday section highlighting the mid-state. As the meeting broke, she met his gaze across the room. The two sides of the table funneled through the door, and she found herself next to him.
She gripped her notepad to her chest. “You’ll probably want to schedule the site shots based on daylight, so I’ll just move forward on my own with research and interviews.”
His mouth twisted as if he’d eaten something sour. “Exactly. We can work separately. I’ll submit my photos as I go.”
“Great.” She broke away and hurried to her desk. Good. Keep a professional distance.
Lately, she felt distanced from everyone. She certainly couldn’t discuss her predicament with Claudia or Louann or Sadie. She wasn’t certain she could explain it with any satisfaction to herself.
Yet on Friday, when Sadie invited her out, Sydney hesitated.
“Come on. It’ll be fun. They’re premiering a new drink at the sports bar.” Sadie leaned closer and spoke in a conspiratorial hush. “The Harrisburg Senators will be signing autographs, their tight ends in their cute little baseball uniforms.”
Sydney smirked. “Tight ends are in football.”
Sadie cocked a brow. “Apparently you’ve never seen their uniforms.” She gave a kitty growl.
A laugh burst out. “Then I guess it’s time I did.” Any diversion from her own incessant thoughts, Sydney welcomed.
But later, when they arrived at The Arena, Sydney’s belly flip-flopped at the sight of the jammed parking lot. Chances just skyrocketed that she’d run into someone she didn’t want to see.
Sadie squeezed her VW bug illegally alongside a black car with a spoiler.
Sydney squeezed from the car. “All this over a drink?”
At times, Sydney envied her friend. Other times, Sadie’s life appeared exhausting. Sadie’s social life entwined with her work so deeply, and Sydney wondered whether Sadie ever felt burned out, or at least confused. All her down time still centered on her work, which was also play.
Better to draw a line somewhere to distinguish. For Sydney, it provided a little sanity.
Sadie shrugged. “Any excuse to party. And it’s a good photo op for the team.”
Picture This Page 5
