Jake’s mouth dropped open, but no words came out.
“You can do it, can’t you, Jake?” Eleanor baited, knowing Jake wouldn’t be able to resist her challenge.
“What’s my first assignment?” he asked, suitably insulted. She scribbled the name of the school on a slip of paper and handed it to him. “Girls basketball at the high school. Take a photographer with you. Ben’s available.”
***
The Lamar High School gymnasium was very different from the gymnasiums Jake remembered from his high school days. The building was old, the bleachers were older, and the kids somehow seemed younger. Basketball in the summer was new to him, too, but Ben had explained that Lamar did things a little differently since the school system ran on a year-round calendar.
Ben led him to the press box, which was really the seat next to the scorekeeper, a little blue-haired woman, who smiled at Jake, but who couldn’t seem to concentrate on much more than keeping track of the score.
Ben handed Jake a sheet that put names to the numbers on the jerseys and for the next hour Jake engrossed himself in girls’ basketball. During timeouts and quarter breaks, Jake’s eyes roamed the spectators that filled the gymnasium. They came in all shapes, sizes, and ages—children, parents, grandparents. It seemed the game was more than a high school game; it was a community event.
When the game was over, Ben introduced Jake to the school principal, the girls’ coach, and other members of the Lamar High coaching staff. Jake was feeling like a member of the community when he left.
As he climbed into the sports van with Ben and headed back to the paper, he felt a sense of accomplishment. He didn’t consider himself a reporter and he hadn’t come to Lamar to be a reporter, but he’d been assigned a job and he’d done it. Well, he’d done part of it. He had enough notes for a story. Now, he had to write the story.
***
“You’re all right, Jake,” Ben said when they reached the office, then he ambled off in the direction of the darkroom.
“So are you, Ben,” Jake said, but he knew Ben didn’t hear him.
Jake walked into the newsroom, ready to work on his story.
Eleanor met him at the door. “How’d it go?”
“It went,” was all he said. “Now I have to get the story written. I want to make deadline.” He stepped past Eleanor and strode to his desk.
Eleanor stared at him. “You’re going to write the story now?"
Jake looked up from the computer screen. “If I can get this computer to work.” He flicked a button, and when the screen didn’t light up, he raised the terminal off the desk a little. “How old is this equipment anyway?”
“About fifteen years.”
Jake lowered the computer. “Fifteen years? It’s ancient.”
Eleanor perched on the corner of her desk. “You’re right, our equipment is ancient. According to my father, Mason Publishing will infuse us with enough money to modernize.”
“Is that what your father said?” he asked absently, still fiddling with the terminal.
Eleanor confirmed with a nod.
“And how much will this modernization cost Mason Publishing?”
Eleanor gave a figure and Jake whistled. “That’s a lot.” Eleanor shrugged her shoulders. “To us, maybe, t certainly not to you. That sum is a drop in the bucket for Mason Publishing.”
He stared up at her. “So you think we’re going to be the gravy train for the Lamar Daily?”
“There’s no way my father would consider this deal if Mason Publishing couldn’t provide enough money to do the things we want to do around here.”
Jake forgot about the terminal and his article and gave her his full attention. “What other things do you want to do?”
Eleanor moved to sit on her desk chair. “A new computer system is first. One of those pagination systems. That would make us more efficient as well as enhance the look of the paper. Next, we’d want funds to add a Sunday edition. I know we’d get the advertising support, but we need up-front capital to get started. Then, we want to start a magazine targeted at African-American families.”
Jake smiled at her. “You don’t want much, do you?”
“A paper is like a life. You have to dream big. That’s what we’re doing.”
“So you don’t think you’ll get all the things you’ve named?”
Eleanor nodded. “I think we’ll get the things I mentioned, but there are a dozen other things I’d like to see us do.” She grinned. “I’m willing to go slowly. I don’t want to break Mason Publishing.”
Jake returned his attention to the computer. “I bet.” He slapped the side of the computer terminal. “What’s wrong with this thing?”
“Stop hitting it like that,” Eleanor admonished. “Let me see.” She walked to his desk and leaned over his shoulder. Ignoring the rich smell of his cologne, she hit the Control and Reset keys. The machine seemed to take forever to reboot. She leaned away from him as it did so.
“What did you do?” he asked, oblivious to the effect he was having on her.
“I rebooted the machine. You should be ready to go in a minute or so.”
“I hope so.”
She leaned over his shoulder again. “Okay.” She pressed the Enter key twice. “There you go. It’s ready.”
Jake hit the insert key and clicked a couple other keys, then turned around and smiled at her. She couldn’t help but smile back. The man was gorgeous.
“Thanks, Eleanor. It’s working. I’ll have to remember to reboot when I’m having problems.” He turned back around and started on his story.
Eleanor remained behind him for a few seconds. She didn’t understand Jake Mason. She’d been sure he’d come here to destroy the paper she’d known her whole life, yet here he was as excited as one of the high school kids about the story he was writing. What was it with this man?
“Make sure to save,” she said before she went back to her desk and flicked on her computer. She might as well use this time to edit tomorrow’s stories. After about twenty minutes, she heard Jake.
“Dammit,” he said.
“What’s wrong now, Jake?”
She heard the click of a couple of keys and the machine started to reboot. “I’ve got it covered.”
Eleanor went back to her work.
“Dammit, now I can’t find my story.”
She heard him hit the side of the terminal again. “What’d you do?” she asked, getting up and walking over to him.
He looked up at her. “The keyboard froze, but I rebooted like you did before. Now I can’t find my story.”
Eleanor hit the Retrieve function key to view the file listing. “What’s the name of the file?”
“Name? I didn’t get that far. The keyboard hung when I was about three-quarters done.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Oh, no, I don’t like the sound of that.”
Eleanor gave him her first real smile, then touched his shoulder. “It wasn’t saved. You lost your story. I’m sorry.”
“Damn. Now’s a fine time for you to tell me.” He slapped the computer terminal on its side again. “Stupid machine doesn’t even have an auto-save feature.”
Eleanor chuckled as she went back to her desk. “Don’t blame the machine, Jake. It’s old and it doesn’t have a mind or any modern features. It only does what you tell it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jake said, his voice raised.
Eleanor knew when to retreat. “Nothing. Just don’t forget to save this time.”
“You can bet on it,” he muttered, then hit the side of the terminal again.
***
Randolph picked up his phone on the first ring. He knew who was calling.
“So what’s happening on the Jake and Eleanor front?” Randolph asked as soon as Mathias came on the line.
Mathias chuckled. “Jake became a reporter today.”
“A reporter? Jake?”
&
nbsp; Mathias laughed again, then repeated the story of the hospitalized sports reporter.
Randolph joined him in laughter. “So how’d he do?”
“According to Eleanor, he lost his story twice in the computer, but he got it done.”
Randolph filled with pride. It wasn’t that he was surprised Jake could do it. He knew Jake could do anything he set his mind to do. No, Randolph was more surprised Jake had done it. And apparently had enjoyed doing it. “What did Eleanor think of that?”
“I think it may work in our favor, Randy. She’s thinking about him in a whole new light. She only made three negative comments about him tonight at dinner and those were inconsequential. I think the way he handled that story has made her reexamine her first opinion of him.”
“Good. Good. Maybe we’re getting somewhere.”
“Don’t get too excited. We still have a long way to go.”
“I know, but this is a start in the right direction. What’s next?”
“I’ve told Eleanor to throw a ‘Welcome to Lamar’ party for Jake. She’s hesitant to do it, but I’ve cornered her into asking her friend Megan to help.”
“Megan? The teenage hormone you used to talk about?”
Mathias laughed. “She’s not a teenager anymore.”
“Do you think that’s wise, Mat? Having this Megan around Jake? What if Jake gets interested in her instead of Eleanor?”
“I don’t think that’ll happen. Jake isn’t Megan’s type.”
Randolph harrumphed. “I’ve never met a woman who didn’t think Jake was her type. What makes this Megan different?”
“Megan’s a flirt, Randy. Personally, I think she’s in love with one of my reporters. No, you leave this to me. Megan is the ingredient we need here. She’ll flirt and Eleanor will be jealous. You watch.”
“You sound pretty confident for a man who only a few minutes ago told me not to get too excited.”
“I know, I know. But you should see them together, Randy. They’re going to be a great couple.”
“I hope you’re right, Mat. I hope you’re right.”
Five
Coffee with Carl had become a part of Jake’s routine in the nearly two weeks he’d been in Lamar and this morning was no different. Initially, Carl had allied himself with Jake to protect him from Eleanor, but now Jake felt they’d formed a real friendship.
“How was the game yesterday?” Carl asked, sipping from his coffee mug, his legs propped on his credenza.
Jake rolled his chair across the padded floor and threw the day’s edition on Carl’s desk. “You’ll have to read it in the paper.”
Carl placed his cup on his desk and picked up the paper, opening it to the sports section. “Not bad for a rookie.”
“A rookie? I’m a reporter of experience. I’ve gotten more bylines in the last two weeks than most new reporters get in a couple of months. Hell, I may even get a Pulitzer for that track story.”
Carl laughed. “Don’t wait on that Pulitzer, Jake. If anybody in Lamar gets a Pulitzer, it’ll be me.”
“Keep telling yourself that, friend,” Jake joked, knowing Carl was right.
“Hey,” Carl protested, “not you, too. I don’t get enough kudos around here as it is. I thought a big-city boy like yourself appreciated my worth.”
Jake sobered. “I do and so do Mathias and Eleanor.” Carl was the paper’s most capable journalist. It was an odd day for the Lamar Daily when the headline story carried a byline that didn’t belong to him. Jake wondered what kept a journalist of his obvious talent in Lamar. Carl would be hell at a larger paper and get a lot more exposure, too.
Carl grunted. “Mathias appreciates me, but I’m not too sure about Eleanor. Sometimes I think she still sees me as her geeky friend from school.”
“I didn’t know you and Eleanor were in school together,” Jake commented. He’d thought he and Carl were about the same age. Now he wondered if Carl knew Megan and, if so, how well.
Carl nodded. “For twelve long years. For a while we were pretty close friends, but that was B.M.”
“Excuse me?”
“Before Megan.” Carl picked up his coffee mug again. “Eleanor and I were geeks together until Megan.”
The hurt in Carl’s tone surprised Jake. It seemed out of character for Carl to harbor ill feelings about something that had happened years ago. Jake wondered about it, but he couldn’t miss the opportunity to learn more about the mysterious Megan. “What happened when Megan came along?”
“She and Eleanor became fast friends.” Carl shook his head. “What an odd couple they were. That’s what the kids called them, the Odd Couple.”
“Megan was the slob?” Jake asked, thinking of the Oscar character. He knew without asking that Eleanor had to be Felix.
“That’s not why they called them the Odd Couple. It was because they were so different.”
Jake could imagine. The beautiful, alluring Megan and the prim, unassuming Eleanor. Well, maybe unassuming wasn’t correct. Eleanor had too much mouth to be considered unassuming. “The beautiful and the plain, I can see that.”
“You got it right. Megan was gorgeous, even in eighth grade. Eleanor could be a looker, but she doesn’t know it.”
“So Megan is still gorgeous?”
Carl sneered. “So gorgeous she has her own fan club.”
Jake nodded. From the little he’d heard about Megan, he could understand why the men of Lamar had formed a club for her. Obviously, Carl wasn’t a member.
“Too bad she’s the president,” Carl added.
Jake laughed. “So Megan is a bit self-absorbed.”
“More like a lot self-absorbed.”
“You sound like you don’t like her.”
Carl stared at Jake a few seconds before speaking. “Nobody doesn’t like Megan.”
Jake wanted to follow up on that, but before he could, Carl pushed away from his desk and stood. “I’ve got to see Wanda in composition. I’ll talk to you later.”
Jake stared after Carl, wondering what he meant by his last statement about Megan. Eleanor found him that way.
“What’s on your schedule for this morning?” she asked. When Jake looked at her, Carl’s words about Eleanor sounded in his ears—Eleanor could be a looker, but she doesn’t know it. The words had escaped him when his friend first spoke them, but now they registered. For the first time since he’d been in Lamar, he assessed Eleanor—really assessed her, not as his father’s best friend’s daughter, not as a bratty younger sister, not as a business rival, but as a woman.
He studied the bun atop her head and wondered how she’d look with her hair down. He realized now that he didn’t even know how long her hair was. It was a rich, dark brown and appeared to be very thick, though he couldn’t really tell from the way she had it rolled up on her head.
“Is something wrong with my hair?” Eleanor asked, patting the bun to make sure it was in place.
Her question brought Jake’s attention to her face. “No, nothing’s wrong with your hair.” But you have beautiful big, brown eyes, he added to himself.
“Then why were you staring?” she asked, clearly not believing his words. “I’ll go check it out myself.”
Jake couldn’t help but watch the gentle sway of her hips as she walked away from him. He knew it wasn’t a practiced walk, merely the walk of a woman comfortable in her body. For once he appreciated the distance from the newsroom to the bathrooms. Though Eleanor wore a skirt that fell to her knees, he could see she had strong, firm calves and trim ankles and that made him think her thighs would be strong and firm, too.
Disappointment settled around him when she entered the bathroom door and he could no longer see her. It was probably a good thing. Now was not the time for sexual thoughts about Eleanor. No, he had come to Lamar to do a job. Not to get involved with the daughter of his father’s best friend.
He dropped down in his chair. He wished to hell Megan would hurry up
and get back.
***
Eleanor leaned against the bathroom door, grateful for the protection it provided from Jake and the emotions he stirred in her. Why had he been staring at her? At first, she’d really thought something may have been wrong with her hair. But when he’d looked in her face, she’d known his thoughts had nothing to do with her coiffure. No, Jake Mason had been assessing her attributes as a female. And, heaven help her, she wasn’t sure if she’d measured up to his standard of womanhood. At least not dressed the way she was.
She walked to the mirror and stared at herself. She’d never before questioned her dress. She dressed for authority, not for allure, deliberately choosing the conservative outfits that some considered unfashionable. That hadn’t been a problem until now. Until Jake. Now she had thoughts of silk mini-skirted suits in bold colors.
She’d been hurt when Jake hadn’t recognized her as the woman at the pool and she secretly hoped that one day he’d laugh and tell her it was all a joke, that he’d known all along it was her. But that hadn’t happened in the two weeks he’d been there and she was pretty sure it wouldn’t happen until he met Megan.
At least, she hoped he’d make the connection after he met Megan. Surely, he’d know Megan wasn’t the woman by the pool. Heaven help her, she’d kill him if he didn’t figure out then that she was the woman.
Hearing the bathroom door open, Eleanor quickly stepped into an empty stall. What was she doing? she asked herself. Why was she hiding out in the bathroom trying to unravel the feelings Jake Mason aroused in her? Once again, she wished the man had never come to Lamar. This time, she acknowledged the paper wasn’t the only thing she was afraid Jake Mason would steal. No, right now she was concerned about Jake Mason stealing her heart.
Jake couldn’t keep his eyes off Eleanor. He’d covertly observed her all afternoon. A couple of times she’d caught him staring, but he’d averted his gaze each time, and since she hadn’t said anything, he figured she hadn’t thought much about it.
He’d learned a lot about Eleanor. First, she chewed the end of her pen while she worked. Though he’d seen pens with chewed ends here and there around the newsroom, he’d never really thought about them. Now he knew they were Eleanor’s pens.
Between the Lines Page 5
