by Paige Rion
“You cold?” he asked, his voice soft.
She shook her head, her gaze trailing the smooth lines of his lips. Would they be as soft as they looked? He moved his fingers to her mouth and she fought the urge not to kiss them. Closing her eyes, she took a step back, recognizing the danger in her thoughts.
Turning to the water, she stared out into the dark blue, pretending something had caught her eye when all she saw was him....
#
For the next hour, they spoke of Callaway Cove, the area’s history and their favorite books and movies, steering clear of intimate conversation. Andi pointed out landmarks as she saw them from the boat, and when they came up on Ashtabula harbor, Ford announced they were going to port.
Andi met the direction of his gaze as they approached the wooden pilings of the docks, where she could make out the bait shop and the marina. The boat slowed and came to a stop. Once secured, they stepped onto the docks and walked to the buildings just off the water to the Lakeside Café.
They took a window seat in the tiny restaurant, one with a view of the lake and harbor only yards away. They ordered their food while Ford talked to Andi about creating her own website and blog, one that would help her build awareness and, possibly, a fan base prior to getting published. They discussed social media and its role in publishing and marketing, with Andi soaking up Ford’s advice and viewpoints like a sponge.
Twenty minutes later, the waitress set their sandwiches in front of them then left. The diner was nearly empty, as it was too late for breakfasters and too early for lunch patrons. Andi stared down at her food, wondering how she could get anything down with this jittery feeling in her stomach and her mind drifting to places it had no business going—namely, the man in front of her.
Ford took a bite of his Rueben and chewed, watching her. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
Andi rubbed the back of her neck. “Sure, of course.” She took a small bite of her sandwich and, fearing the next revolution, swallowed.
Ford leaned back in his seat. “You’re different. I could tell in the interview, but these last couple days… There’s just something … I don’t know … special about you.”
Andi frowned, loving yet hating where this was going. “You don’t even know me, really.”
“On the contrary, I think I have a pretty good idea who you are.”
Andi sighed and shook her head. This needed to stop. He needed to stop, whatever it was he was doing to her, or trying to do.
“Let’s hear it then,” she said, raising her brow in challenge. He would get it all wrong, and that would prove to him just how little he knew about her.
“Okay.” He paused and took another bite of his food, then began. “You’re smart and not afraid to show it. You mostly see the good in life and the best in people, giving them the benefit of the doubt even when they don’t deserve it. Not much upsets you but when it does, I bet you really blow, because it’s something that has hurt you from the inside out. You like control, things to fit perfectly into place in your life, which is part of what makes your drive for writing so strong. You can’t see things any other way, and you are bound and determined to have things the way you want them, no matter the cost.”
No matter the cost? Was that what was happening with Peter?
Andi glanced away, unable to look at him, not wanting to confirm his assessment and hoping he might stop.
“Your family and friends are important to you. You wear your heart on your sleeve and your emotions, as well, which is why you’re so easy to read. And there’s this spark about you, this fire that can’t be fabricated. I’ve never seen in anyone this thing I see in you.” He paused and glanced at her. “How am I doing so far?”
Andi glared at him, her mouth tight. She tried to ignore his last words, willing the fluttering in her stomach to go away. “You’re wrong,” she said, but even she could hear the waver in her voice that told him he was right. And no matter how much she denied it, she liked that he saw something special in her, something no one else did.
“Your one downfall, your one flaw, is your obsession with making a name for yourself. Getting published isn’t enough. There’s a certain level of success you want and you won’t stop until you get it. This is what will get in the way of your relationships, and it’s something an insecure man won’t be able to handle.”
Andi froze. It was something she had secretly worried about—that her ambition would cause waves in her relationships—and it was something she feared was causing problems with Peter now.
She said nothing, swallowing down the knot of fear that Ford had caused to grow with his observations. Several silent minutes passed with both of them staring out into the water, their minds drifting.
“What kind of books do you want to write?” Ford asked, turning his attention back to his plate.
The question brought her back to reality. “Romance.”
“Ah, fairytales.”
At her narrowed eyes, he said, “I’m not judging. All writers, myself included, create whole worlds to give people a reprieve from their real lives. That’s what I do, too.”
Andi laughed but there was no joy in the sound. It was exactly how she felt about the kind of books she wanted to write and something Peter never understood.
Interestingly, Ford’s words meant he didn’t believe in real love—that he considered the beautifully written romantic plotlines in his own books ‘fairytales’. “I don’t buy it. You can’t write books like yours and not believe in love, at least to some extent.”
Ford’s mouth tightened. He ran a hand through his hair. “Why?”
“Because there’s hope in love.” She met his gaze. “And a world without hope is a sad one. If you truly feel what you say, you want to leave people with the feeling that good exists and that love, no matter how impossible, is possible. If love is such a lie, I can’t see you selling it like you do.”
Ford’s eyes flashed. “I believe people leave you when you need them most in life. I believe real love is something people tell themselves exists because it makes the world a better place to live in. When love fails, and it always does, people make excuses. He wasn’t the one. She was too critical, bossy, fat…whatever.”
Andi frowned. “So why write romance into your books at all? If you don’t buy into the notion it’s real?”
Ford smiled but his eyes softened, something sad lingering in his gaze. “Because there’s nothing wrong with giving false hope. Even if true love is a lie, it makes life easier to swallow. And that’s what’s important—finding a way to get through the rough parts. Love is the Achilles heel of man. It’s something we can’t help pursuing even if it ends in heartache, even if it is an endless pursuit of happiness. Shakespeare, Jane Austen—they got it.”
Andi sat in silence. The sadness in his eyes shot clear through her heart like an arrow, and her mind raced through his books, trying to piece together what she was missing, what piece of heartbreak had been embedded between the pages that explained the way he felt now.
“You think I’m wrong?” he asked, breaking through her thoughts.
She wanted to argue with him, to come up with a line that would disprove everything he had just said about love, but she had none, so she said what she felt instead. “I think a world without true love is a world without hope, one I don’t want to be a part of. So, I choose to believe, whether it’s real or not.”
She saw it. The flash in his eyes, a glimmer of something unexplained as his molten gaze met hers, pinning her to her seat. She caught her breath, unable to look away, the blood humming in her veins. In that moment, nothing and no one else existed. It was just him and her and the intimate conversation between them.
He placed his hand over hers and leaned into the table. “Andi?” he whispered.
Heart knocking against her ribs, her eyes flickered to his mouth and the hard contours of his jaw. He had shared so much of himself with her. This broken, brilliant man. Maybe all he needed was a little hope?
He reached out, cupping the side of her face. She’d never wanted anything as much as she wanted to kiss him in that moment. The warmth of his palm burned through her skin, and the feel of him exploded all thought, scattering it to the far corners of her mind. She curled her fingers around his and leaned closer. She could hear the soft sound of his breathing.
All she had to do was close her eyes. Move just a bit closer…
She squeezed her eyes shut. One more inch to go… Suddenly, her conversation with Peter from the evening before came back to her like a lightning strike, jolting her from her trance.
“What kind of guy should I work for, then?”
“Not one that looks at you the way he does.”
Shame rolled through her, and like a thick smoke, it smothered her desire. Peter had been right.
She opened her eyes and jerked back in her chair. Turning her head, she fought to steady her racing heart as her breathing evened.
What the hell was she doing? Playing with fire.
Ford leaned back and rubbed his hands over his face, silent a moment. “So, you and Peter … you think you’re the real thing?”
Andi swallowed over the emotion in her throat, unable to look him in the eye. “Yeah, we are,” she said.
She only wished, while looking at him, that she believed it.
CHAPTER TEN
Andi pulled on the faded Rolling Stones t-shirt and jeans. She didn’t care if Ms. Perry looked down her pointy little nose at her. Ford dressed casually and so would she, at least for today. She needed to be comfortable for what would come later. Talking to Ford would be awkward enough without her having to move around the office in heels and a skirt.
She checked her makeup in the mirror, tousled her hair and applied a dark shade of lipstick, then took a step back, looking herself directly in the eye.
“Ford,” she said, staring at her reflection. “Whatever this is between us—these deep conversations, the almost…” She groaned and pressed her fingers to the sides of her head. “Let’s try this again,” she whispered. Pointing to the mirror, she said, “You’ve got to stop touching me, looking at me like that and trying to kiss me. This thing—” Andi dropped her arms and exhaled, “—whatever it is, has got to end. You’re my boss. That is all. That has to be all.”
She nodded at herself in the mirror. Yes, I can do this.
But what if she was just imagining everything? What if she was misreading his signals and he felt nothing? What if she was making this into a much bigger deal than it was? She would feel like the biggest idiot.
But she wasn’t. There was just … something about when they were together. Something she couldn’t explain. And if she wanted to salvage her relationship with Peter, she needed to put a stop to whatever was brewing between her and Ford.
She walked over to her bed and plopped down on the edge. She had to draw a line in the sand, something that clearly put them into the boss-and-employee category. She saw now that they couldn’t be anything more. Being friends with Ford was proving to be impossible. Twice now, they had almost kissed, and then there were all the moments of chemistry in-between the almost-kisses.
Even if Peter wasn’t in the picture, any sort of relationship other than a professional one was a bad idea. Her goal was to prove herself a worthy employee and get Ford’s endorsement of her writing. That would take time. What if they got involved and had a falling out? She may as well kiss her prospects goodbye.
Standing, she grabbed her purse off the dresser and made her way downstairs to her car. Several hours later, Andi sat at her desk purging Ford’s e-mails after tearing the entire office apart searching for her still-lost manuscript. Ms. Perry had run off on business for her other client and Ford had yet to show. Andi deleted several more e-mails, then closed her eyes and whispered, “You’ll find it, Andi. You’ll find it.”
Her palms grew clammy, but she wiped them on her pants and shoved away the niggling fear. Her manuscript had to be around there somewhere. Maybe Ford had a cleaning lady? Maybe it had been mistaken for something else and misplaced? There had to be an explanation for its absence on her desk. She had left it right there only two days ago. Surely Ms. Perry wasn’t cruel enough to actually throw it away. Still, the gnawing dread remained in the pit of her stomach like something rotten.
Ford’s laughter echoed from the hallway into the office. Straightening in her seat, Andi trained her eyes on her computer and busied herself. In a moment, it would be time for that talk.
She bit her cheek. Nerves fluttered in her chest, but she breathed through them. You can do this.
Ford walked into the office and Andi kept her eyes on the e-mails in front of her. She couldn’t look over at him just yet, but she had to talk to him before she lost her nerve altogether.
“Ford, can we talk about…” She trailed off at the click of heels on the hardwood. Glancing up, she met Ford’s gaze. Next to him, Rachel threaded her arm into his and smiled.
You have got to be kidding. Rachel, again? She should’ve known better. If Rachel Beaumont said she wasn’t going to quit trying to win a man, then she wouldn’t.
“Oh, hey there, Andi. I didn’t know you’d be here,” Rachel said, her voice two octaves higher than usual.
“Really? That’s not saying much about your intelligence, considering I work here,” Andi said with a straight face.
Rachel’s smile fell as her skin bloomed scarlet, and for a brief moment, Andi felt awful. Rachel was her friend, not her enemy. But then why was she trying to ruin things for her? Why couldn’t she leave her job—and Ford—alone?
Andi pressed her tongue into her cheek to stop herself from saying anything further, but she didn’t need to because Ford raised a brow at her and tugged on Rachel’s arm. “Let’s go to my office for a minute.”
Rachel glanced up at him and fluttered her lashes, making Andi’s stomach sour. “Let’s,” she purred, and Andi almost lost her breakfast right there.
They went into Ford’s office and closed the door.
He couldn’t possibly like her…
Andi raised her hands. It doesn’t matter. None of my business. If Rachel wanted to parade around acting like an idiot and chase after a man who had expressed an interest in Andi herself, well then, that was her prerogative.
“Right,” Andi murmured.
On the other hand, Ford had taken Rachel out several times, hadn’t he? So, what did that mean? Maybe he really was just a player. Or maybe he was trying to make Andi jealous.
No. Why would he do that?
Rachel’s voice trickled out of his office, followed by a low chuckle. Andi groaned and pressed her hands to her ears. “You’re acting like a child,” she said into the empty office.
Fifteen minutes later, Rachel left Ford’s office and pranced over to Andi’s desk. “We still on for the cove Saturday night?”
Andi glared at her. It took her several seconds, the tug-of-war inside her raging, but eventually friendship won out and she sighed, her expression softening. She needed to remember who her friends were. This was just her job and Ford was just her employer.
“Yeah. We’re still on,” Andi said.
“Good.” Rachel slung her purse over her shoulder, her smile warm. “You know, I might be trying to win Ford, but you’re still my best friend. All’s fair in love and war, right? I hope there are no hard feelings. I’d hate to think this might put a wedge between us. I think I can win him over without the job, but…”
Really? Andi gaped.
She loved Rachel like a sister, but, her involvement with Ford buried under her skin like razor blades. She’d do anything to get a man. And what the hell did she need this job for? She seemed to be winning him over just fine on her own.
“No hard feelings. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, right?”
“Right.” Rachel reached out and touched Andi’s arm. “I’m glad you see it my way. Anyway, I gotta go. Ford and I have a date tonight, so…”
Andi loo
ked down at her desk and clenched her teeth. She’s your friend, she’s your friend…
“Bye.” Rachel’s cheery voice rang out like a bell as she clicked her way out of the office.
“Don’t trip and fall on those damned heels on your way out,” Andi muttered under her breath.
Ford’s door creaked open and Andi snapped to attention as he popped his head out of the opening. “Andi, were you going to ask me something earlier?”
“Um, yeah.” She bit her lip and got up. The only thing more awful than having this conversation with Ford would be having Ms. Perry walk in on it. Best to hurry things up.
She slid past him into his office, ignoring the way her stomach dipped and twirled. Confrontation had never been her strong suit. She twisted the bottom of her t-shirt between her fingers as she rehearsed her speech in her mind once more.
“The Stones?” Ford eyed her. “I didn’t take you for a rock and roll kind of girl.”
Andi dropped her hands. For some reason the comment annoyed her. “What kind of girl do you take me for?”
Ford pursed his lips. “I don’t know…” He rubbed his chin. “Pop. Something cheesy and bubbly. One Direction, Justin Beiber?”
Andi’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped. “Justin Beiber?” She nearly gagged on the name. “I am not Rachel.” The words escaped before she could stop them, and she felt her face redden.
“I’m just kidding. Settle down.” Ford smirked. “Did you really think I thought you listened to Justin Bieber? Let me guess, classic rock, the Rolling Stones, and a lot of indie groups.”
“Grr.” Andi ran a hand over her face. How does he know me so well?
Crossing her arms, she said, “I need to talk about us, not music.”
“Us?” Ford leaned back against his desk and crossed his legs at the ankles. “I didn’t realize there was an ‘us.’”
She glared at him for a moment, trying to decide whether he was being facetious or if he was actually serious. Ford didn’t strike her as the coy type, and there was no way she’d imagined all the sparks.
