“That’s why we have contracts,” Jake said, interrupting again.
She ignored that comment. “Number three. You and I have to be the voices of reason here. Our fathers’ friendship is the basis for the business relationship and that makes it a risky proposition. I don’t think either of them has really thought this through.”
Jake nodded. “You might have a point there.”
Her eyes registered her surprise. “You’re actually agreeing with me?”
He leaned toward her. “You’ve gotten our roles confused. You’ve been the one with the hostility, not me.”
“Touché."
“Have you talked to your attorney about your, ah, three points?”
“Of course. Now what’s on your mind?”
He reached for his pen. “Number one,” he said and she knew he wanted to grin. “Mason Publishing cannot afford for this newspaper to become a money pit.”
“A money pit? What are you talking about?”
“You’ve mentioned before that the one positive for this whole deal is the dollars Mason Publishing brings to the table. Well, each expenditure must be justified. We can only spend money where we think we can earn it back.”
“So, you’re a bottom line kind of guy?”
“Aren’t we all? You have an MBA. You know how businesses work.”
“How did you know I had an MBA?”
“You aren’t the only one with access to an investigating staff.”
She was impressed. “Two for you.”
He grinned. “Number two, which is really related to number one. This is a business deal, not a personal one. All decisions will be made on the basis of what’s best for the business, all the businesses, of Mason Publishing.”
She pointed her finger at him. “And that point conflicts with my points one and three. I cannot and will not abdicate control of the Lamar Daily to Mason Publishing. We must keep control. On that point, I’m inflexible.”
“It’s also a point on which I’m inflexible. Our fathers agreed on some basic tenets which I’m forced to uphold. Beyond that, you’re going to have to trust us, Eleanor.”
“Trust you?"
“Yes, trust us to make good decisions.”
Eleanor wanted to dismiss Jake and end this meeting, but she couldn’t. Her father wanted this deal and it was up to her to fight for the best terms possible. She had to compromise with Jake. She hoped she didn’t live to regret it.
“What do you say? Will you trust me?”
Eleanor looked into his eyes and she understood he was asking about more than their business negotiation. “Let’s take it day by day. If you show yourself to be trustworthy and if you work in good faith toward the paper, maybe then we can talk about trust.”
Jake nodded, seeming to understand that was all he was going to get. “All right. Let’s go through your points again in a little more detail. I’ll have our accountants in New York run the numbers and we’ll see where we are.”
***
Jake stared at the calendar on his desk. Five weeks. He’d been in Lamar five weeks and he hadn’t made much headway on his plan to impress the hell out of his father. All he’d done was get frustrated by a stern miss who was a knockout in a white swimsuit.
Maybe it was because she was the first woman he’d seen in Lamar, Jake reasoned. Maybe that was why she stayed on his mind all the time.
Jake shook his head. There was no use lying to himself. The woman at the pool had stayed on his mind true enough, but Eleanor had become an obsession. When he’d asked her out, she’d had the nerve to turn him down as if he were some horny schoolboy. He found the rejection maddening.
But it was her supposed disinterest over the last week that irked him most. He’d never been treated with disinterest by a woman before.
So he had a plan to turn Eleanor’s disinterest into interest. Although it wasn’t an entirely ethical plan, it was close enough to one that he could execute it without too much guilt.
When he saw Eleanor glide down the hallway toward their office, he garnered enough courage to execute the first step of his plan.
“How’s it going?” she asked, entering the office.
“I need to talk to you about something, Eleanor.” He shut their office door and closed the blinds on the glass window facing the newsroom.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, anxiety filling her words.
“In a way,” he said in a whisper.
“Speak up, Jake.”
He moved closer to the desk, but didn’t raise his voice. “It’s about Carl and Megan. I think they need our help.”
“Carl and Megan? What are you talking about?”
His look said he thought she was dense. “You do know he’s in love with her, don’t you?”
“In love? Carl’s in love with Megan?”
Jake nodded his head. “I know when a man’s in love.”
She smirked. “I bet you do.”
“Look, this isn’t about me. It’s about Megan and Carl. I like them both and I hate seeing them so miserable.”
Megan didn’t seem to be miserable. She had gone out with two different men over the weekend. “What do you think we can do about this anyway?”
“Match make,” he said, as if he’d originated the idea. “You and I could be matchmakers.”
“No way.” She shook her head. There was no way she was going to get mixed up in Megan’s love life. Sure she thought there was more to Megan and Carl than Megan would admit. But Eleanor knew her friend well enough to know she wouldn’t appreciate any interference.
“I thought you were Megan’s friend.”
“I am her friend. Her best friend. That’s why I’m not getting involved in any matchmaking scheme you may have in your mind.” She lifted a brow. “If you’re smart, you’ll stay out of it.”
He collapsed in his chair. “I can’t just do nothing. Carl is driving me crazy complaining about Megan. If you won’t do it for him, do it for me.”
She had to smile. “It can’t be that bad.”
“It’s worse than that. That man has it so bad he doesn’t know if he’s coming or going.” Jake knew he was pouring it on a little thick but he couldn’t stop himself. “Can’t you see it?”
She nodded slowly. “They argue too much for there not to be something there.”
“Yes, it’s either love or hate. And I don’t think it’s hate.”
“Well,” Eleanor hesitated. “Neither do I.”
“So you’ll work with me?” Jake pressed.
“I’ll think about it.”
Jake grinned as if he’d won the lottery. “We can’t discuss this too much at work.” He motioned toward the door and the glass window. “The staff is probably wondering what we’re doing in here now. Why don’t we get together over dinner and discuss it? How about tonight?”
***
Mel’s Diner. The name on the revolving sign in front of the faded white diner was vaguely familiar to Jake. He rushed around to the passenger door of his leased sports sedan in time to close the door behind Eleanor.
“I can do some things for myself,” she said to his unasked question.
“So I see.” He put his hand to her back and ushered her through the screened door. He thought he’d stepped back in time when he saw the three white men in beige painter’s outfits seated on the faded blue plastic seats of the metal bar stools. His gaze roamed to the score of people seated in the matching booths. It occurred to him that he and Eleanor were the only black faces in the place.
“You come here often?” he asked with obvious sarcasm.
Ellen gave a light chuckle. “All the time.”
“Do we take a seat or wait to be seated?”
“We wait. Somebody will take care of us soon.”
Jake noticed the two women in short, pink, apron-covered waitress uniforms busily serving the already seated customers. One was a kooky-looking brunette with beady eyes.
The other was a nondescript redhead with a welcoming smile.
“Hi there, handsome. Nice buns.”
Jake looked to his left and saw a bleached blonde with a beehive hairdo and a mouth full of chewing gum giving him the once-over.
“Where’d you find this one?” the gum-chewing beehive asked Eleanor.
“This is Jake. He’s working with us down at the paper. I thought you would have heard by now.”
She looked Jake over again and he actually felt as if she was undressing him with her eyes. “Well, now, maybe I did hear something.”
Eleanor looked up at Jake and chuckled at the expression on his face. “You’d better leave him alone, Flo. I don’t think he can take it.”
Flo continued to smack on that gum. “I kinda think Jake, here, could handle anything. I get the feeling he’s handled a lot.”
Eleanor laughed again. “Show us to a booth before Jake passes out.”
As Jake followed Eleanor and Flo to a booth in the middle of the restaurant, he couldn’t help but notice the exaggerated movement of Flo’s hips.
“Here you are, folks,” she said, handing them each a laminated menu. “Just holler when you’re ready to order.”
Jake watched Flo’s switch as she walked away from them and to another table.
“See something you like?” Eleanor asked.
Jake turned to her and saw the humor in her eyes. “She’s a piece of work.”
Eleanor laughed, then slipped out of her navy jacket and placed it on the seat next to her. “That’s an understatement. Flo’s a landmark around here.”
Nine
“Mel’s Diner. Flo. Somebody in this town got a TV complex or something?”
Eleanor nodded. “I wondered if you’d even notice. Didn’t know if the TV show Alice went over well with you Northerners.”
“It didn’t. At least, not at my house.”
She ignored the comment. “Mel McKissic was a big fan of the show. When it was canceled, he begged, borrowed, and some say stole to get the money to open this place. When it opened, Flo was here. Nobody knows where he found her.”
“You’re kidding.”
She shook her head. “It was a big thing last year when Mel and Flo got married. It took up the entire page of the Thursday Living section.”
“That much space, huh?” He chuckled.
Eleanor nodded. “That kind of story would have run in the Sunday edition, if we did a Sunday edition.”
Jake raised a hand. “This meal is to discuss Carl and Megan, not the newspaper. Let’s save that for the office.”
“Okay, what do you want to eat?”
Jake picked up his menu. “What do you suggest?”
“The meatloaf is the best.”
Jake scanned the items on the menu. Liver and onions, chicken steak, chicken gizzards. “I think I’ll take the meatloaf.”
Eleanor picked up his menu and hers and waved them in the air. Flo was at the table in a matter of seconds. She took their orders and left.
“Waving the menus above your head is a unique way of getting the waitress’s attention,” he commented.
“You should tell Flo that. It was her idea. She said people waving their hands confused her since people in Lamar were waving all the time. She didn’t know if they were waving for her to come over or if they were waving at one of their friends across the room.”
“I’m getting scared,” he said.
Her eyes widened. “Why?”
“That explanation actually made sense.”
Eleanor laughed and her face brightened and softened. He’d love to see her like that when she sported that white swimsuit. Then he’d want to see that sparkle in her eyes dim with passion.
“Do you really come here often?” he asked to keep his thoughts away from dangerous subjects.
“Not often. Just when I need to get away and think.”
“So why’d you bring me here?”
She lifted her shoulders slightly. “It’s private, in a way, and we can discuss Megan and Carl without worrying about the wrong people overhearing,” she said, wondering if there was more to it than that but not yet ready to think about it.
He seemed to accept that answer, but his eyes searched hers as if trying to find out more. He clasped his hands and leaned forward. “Now what are we going to do about Carl and Megan?”
Eleanor shifted back on her bench seat. Was it her or was Jake invading her space again? “This dinner was your idea. I thought you were the one with the plan.”
Jake relaxed and sat back. “I can’t believe you don’t have one. How have you lived with those two this long?”
Eleanor lifted a hand to her hair, brushing it lightly. It was time to take the bun down; it was starting to itch.
“Why don’t you take it down?” Jake said as if he’d heard her thoughts. And unbutton a few buttons on that blouse while you’re at it, he added to himself.
Eleanor looked at him, not sure if she should take his suggestion, then she smiled and got her purse. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Eleanor felt Jake’s eyes on her as she made her way to the women’s room, and she liked the feeling. She pushed open the door then walked to the mirror above the first sink.
She placed her purse on the metal ledge above the sink and took the pins out of her hair. After placing the pins in her purse and taking out her brush, she shook her head, causing her mass of dark brown hair to fall about her shoulders.
Eyeing herself in the mirror, she toyed with the top button on her blouse. “What the hell,” she said and undid first the top button, then the second. “That should keep Mr. Mason on his toes.” She brushed a few unruly strands in place, then put her brush back in her purse and left the rest room. Flo was seated at their booth when she got back and Jake was laughing.
Flo looked up at Eleanor. “Back already? Jake and me were getting acquainted some.”
Flo stood up and Eleanor slid back in the booth. “Loosening up, are you, honey?” Before Eleanor could answer, Flo went on. “Well, I can see how this man could make you unbutton your blouse. He’ll, he’d make me do a little more than loosen a few buttons. And he just might be the one man, other than Mel, that is, to see me without this beehive.”
“Mel’s a lucky man,” Jake said, taking Flo’s hand in his larger one. “If I thought I had a chance, I’d give him a run for his woman.”
“Go on with you,” Flo said, pleased with Jake’s comment.
Eleanor didn’t miss the slight squeeze she gave his hand before she released it. Unless Eleanor’s eyes were deceiving her, Flo’s strut as she left the table had gotten worse. She rolled her eyes. “What did you do to her?”
Jake poured each of them a glass of iced tea from the pitcher Flo had brought. “I didn’t do anything to her. She’s a nice woman. We were having a little fun. You do know about that, don’t you?”
“About what? You making a pass at everything in a skirt?”
“No, having fun. That is a concept that you understand, isn’t it?”
“What do you think?” Eleanor watched his gaze travel from her hair to the top of her breasts. It took all her strength to keep from fastening one of the buttons on the bone-colored collarless blouse she’d worn with her navy suit.
“I think you’re gorgeous.”
She cleared her throat. It got so stuffy in the diner she wanted to fan herself, but she wouldn’t give Jake the satisfaction of knowing how much he affected her. Flo returned with their meals and saved her from having to respond to his comment.
“About Megan and Carl,” she said once she’d recovered her composure. “What do you think we should do?”
“We need to keep putting them together. They don’t see each other enough.”
“But when they do, they argue and take shots at each other the entire time. Remember the day Megan came to the paper?”
Jake laughed. “Of course I remember. They’re a real f
ire and ice couple.”
“More like oil and vinegar.”
“You aren’t fooled by their show, are you? Those two love each other.”
Eleanor took a pat of butter and smeared it across her dinner roll. “And you think if we put them together enough, they’ll finally admit their feelings.”
Jake nodded. “It’s takes a lot of energy to fight against their emotions the way they do. If nothing else, they’re going to tire themselves out. Then they’ll have to face their feelings.”
There was some merit to Jake’s idea, but there was also a major hole. “But who’s going to referee in the meantime?”
“Us.”
“I kinda thought that’s where you were going.”
“Cheer up. This could be fun. They may even make us godparents.”
“You like kids a lot, don’t you?” she asked, thinking about him helping Carl with the Little League team.
He nodded. “Part of being an only child, I guess.”
It was the same for her. As a child she’d often wished for a brother or sister and she’d always loved babies. Children were still dear to her, which was one of the reasons she spent time with little girls like Kia.
“You know about that, don’t you?” he asked when she didn’t say anything. “We do have something in common.”
Eleanor knew he was talking about their mothers and having lost them when they were young. “I think our mothers, even more than their shared childhoods, is the bond between our fathers.”
Jake nodded. “My father thinks a lot of Mathias. I know they talk on the phone a lot and they see each other every year at that damn conference.”
“Yeah, I remember the first year Dad brought home a photo of you.”
Jake grinned. “You do?”
She arched a brow. “I bet you don’t remember the first one your dad brought home of me.”
“Oh, yes I do. I think that’s who I still expected you to be. A little girl.”
“I’m not that, am I?”
He grinned. “Not in the ways that count.”
Heaven help her, she blushed. “You haven’t changed much over the years.”
“Now that has to be an insult.”
Between the Lines Page 9
