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“Is something wrong, Mommy?”
The world calmed at the high-pitched voice. Jeanie stood in front of her with tiny furrows in an equally tiny face, framed by blond tousled curls. With rosy baby cheeks and sweet bow lips, the child bespoke an artist’s rendering of pure beauty. Laura couldn’t stop a small smile, despite the morning’s grim start. “Come here, sunshine.”
Jeanie broke into a wide grin as she ran towards her mother with a rapid pitter patter. She leapt into waiting arms. “Who were you talking to?”
“Miss Candace.” Laura hugged the sweet bundle, as tiny hands clutched her back. “Did you sleep well, sweetheart?”
The little girl nodded brightly. “I’m ready for breakfast now.”
Laura chuckled at the mature reply. Every day Jeanie grew up just a little. How quickly time passed. “Then go and wash up. How does French toast sound?”
Jeanie answered with a squeal and a giggle that lit up the room. She jumped to the ground and ran into the bathroom, and a moment later, the faucet sprang to life.
Laura turned towards the kitchen, stopping as the phone once more gave its shrill call. Was it another friend, Mr. Bankcroft or perhaps the bogeyman himself? She answered with a cautious greeting, relaxed at the nasal tone of Andrew Nelson, the editor of the Pine Ridge Press and her boss. All relief vanished when he voiced the apparent statement de jour, “Laura, you’re never going to guess who’s coming to town.”
Could she hope for the bogeyman, riding on the back of the Loch Ness Monster and accompanying a dragon who thought humans tasted delicious? All in the midst of a zombie apocalypse? How could a man she had only met once invade her entire life? “Would it be too much to ask for the bogeyman?”
“I’m sorry, did you just say–”
“I’m kidding, of course.” Of course she’d prefer Mr. Bancroft to a mythological monster. Although were they really that different? They were both strong, powerful, preyed on people. So logically, if given the choice…
A cleared throat snagged her attention back to the phone call. She cleared her own. “Is it Aidan Bancroft?”
“Ahhh, so you’ve already been told. You must be thrilled.” Mr. Nelson was clearly ecstatic, as well he should be. A small-town newspaper getting the scoop on a celebrity who usually graced the national juggernauts was a story itself. “I’m surprised you haven’t already called, begging me for the exclusive to this story. Were you that sure you'd get it?”
Where was the bogeyman when you needed him? Her editor was about to bestow a great gift, or so he believed, the scoop on Aidan Bancroft. It might make her career, but at what cost? Her child, her life,herself? Everyone knew the businessman was a pit bull when it came to getting what he wanted – he never lost. If he decided to come after her…
Maybe she was being presumptuous. Maybe the editor wasn’t about to offer anything.
Mr. Nelson didn’t wait for a response. “Well, you're right.” He laughed. “You’ve been my best writer for years, and you deserve this. The story is yours. For however long he’s here, you’re going to spend every moment covering Pine Ridge's newest – and only – billionaire. Congratulations, Laura, Aidan Bancroft is yours.”
Laura clenched cold fists. Aidan Bancroft was hers, or was it the other way around?
“No, thank you.”
A second ticked. Then another and another and… "I'm sorry? I must not have heard correctly."
"No, thank you."
"I have one question for you."
"Sure."
“What’s the matter with you?” Incredulity and shock turned his voice louder than a rocket. She rubbed her ear. “Are you telling me you don’t want the story? Is this Laura Blake?”
“Yes, of course it is.” She held the handset a few inches away. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but I just can’t take the story.” What else could she say?Sorry, but Mr. Bancroft is my baby daddy? Oh, and I have this ridiculous attraction to him? By the way, do you have the bogeyman’s phone number?
By his stunned tone, her boss was well aware she had lost her mind. “I can’t comprehend why you're not jumping at this story when you should be thrilled. But it doesn’t matter. You have to cover him. You see, I wasn’t the one who chose you. Mr. Bancroft did."
Suddenly Laura knew how a small furry animal felt when a majestic lion approached, licking its chops. Mr. Bancroft was as much a hunter as the king of the animals, and she – she was the prey.
“Did you hear me, Laura? The man himself requested you. Somehow Mr. Bancroft heard of you, and he personally requested you be the sole liaison between him and the press. So it’s not a choice. It’s your job.”
Could she refuse, demand a bake sale expose instead?Exclusive: Winifred's homemade brownies actually come from a mix. Millions shocked. Town declares state of mourning. Yet it wouldn't solve her problem. If she didn't lose her job, it would likely plummet to actual brownie scandals and armadillo races. If refusing would help her situation with Jeanie, she would, but surrendering wasn't Aidan's style. He would simply find another way to get to her. “All right.”
“I’m sorry I had to compel you,” Mr. Nelson’s voice was a combination of gruffness and confusion. “Any other writer would have given a year’s salary for this opportunity. Anyway, the job starts tonight. There’s a big welcome party atThe Enchanted.Be there at eight.”
Before she could protest, a loud click sounded, signaling the end of their conversation. Seconds later, her daughter bounded back into the room, her hands and cheeks aglow with cleanliness. “French toast?” she queried.
