Eva's Deadline Page 12

An hour later, the models were all dressed in their initial outfits and ready to appear on the stage’s makeshift runway. Eva peeked out the curtains. The auditorium, full of students and teachers, hummed with anticipation. In the orchestra pit, a band from the Music Department tuned their instruments. Off to one side, Cody bent over his camera and tripod. Along with some of her friends, Luci sat in the front row, hands poised over her laptop, ready to take notes for her article.

  Eva took a deep breath and stepped onto the stage. The band’s lively music escorted her to the microphone. “Good afternoon,” she began, “and welcome to Willow Beach High’s Back to School Fashion Show…”

  With only a couple minor emergencies—a skirt’s hem had to be mended and a loose button secured—the show went smoothly. Afterward, the teens crowded around Eva, full of appreciation. “We’ve never done anything like this before,” one of them said. “It was so fun,” another chimed in.

  “Glad you liked it,” Eva said. “You all did a wonderful job.”

  As the girls drifted off, Fran bustled over. “Eva, that was wonderful.” She clapped her hands but then in the next instant sobered and ducked her head. “I have a favor to ask.”

  “Need some help cleaning up? I’d be glad to stay—”

  Fran shook her head. “No, that’s all taken care of. I want to know if you’ll talk to my Home Living class. About managing money. Especially tips on budgeting.”

  Eva pressed a hand to her chest. “Me? Talk to a class? I have written articles on the subject, but I’m not a teacher.”

  Fran waved her hand in a gesture of apology. “Oh. I just thought—I mean, you worked so well with the kids on the show—”

  “It’s okay, Fran. You just took me by surprise.” She considered a moment. “And you’re right. This was fun. I’ll speak to your class.”

  “Great.” Fran gave Eva a hug.

  They made plans to discuss the details soon over coffee.

  As Eva headed for the door, the owner of the local clothing store stopped to ask about a new ad in the Herald. Eva promised to have Bernie Sanchez give her a call.

  Eva left the school with a spring in her step. She’d had fun. The show wasn’t as glamorous as those she’d attended for Seattle’s Best, but working with the teens was challenging and rewarding, and emceeing the show had been a special treat.

  The following day, Luci emailed Eva the article she’d written. Eva read the piece and had it displayed on her computer screen when Luci came to her cubicle later that day.

  Eva waved the intern into the chair by her desk. “You did a good job, Luci. You’ve included all the essentials and made it interesting.” In a gentle tone, she added, “Let’s make the lead a bit stronger.” She offered a few suggestions but told Luci she could make the final decision.

  After Luci reworked the lead, they selected one of Cody’s photos to accompany the article.

  When they were finished, Luci sat back and smiled at Eva. “I’ve learned so much. I can’t wait to see my words in print.”

  “This is exciting for me, too,” Eva said.

  Now all she had to do was convince Mark to give the article top billing. Considering his preference for hard news, she knew she’d be facing a tough challenge.

  *

  THAT EVENING, dressed in sweats now that the weather was cooler, Eva jogged along the beach. She hadn’t gone far when she glimpsed Mark heading toward her. Since the night they’d shared pizza at her house after Sasha’s birthday, he’d joined her for these early-evening runs once or twice a week.

  She was especially glad to see him today because she needed to talk to him about Luci’s article. She’d sent him the piece earlier that day with the recommendation that it be given page-one status and had expected him to get back to her. He hadn’t. Did he find the idea so ridiculous he couldn’t even respond?

  Maybe discussing the article on neutral ground would be a good way to handle the matter.

  She waved at him. “Hey, Mark!”

  He stopped. “Eva. Thought you might be out here tonight.”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  He hesitated, then shrugged. “Okay, Beach Café?”

  “Perfect.”

  They ran beside each other without speaking again until they reached the café. The weather was too cold to sit outside and they weren’t there for dinner, so Mark led them into the bar. They wound their way around the potted palm trees and underneath hanging ferns to an empty corner booth. The waitress ambled over and took their order. A few minutes later, she returned bearing a tray with Eva’s latte and Mark’s plain coffee.

  Eva sat back against the padded booth and sipped her coffee. On another occasion, she might enjoy having a leisurely drink after an invigorating run. But tonight, worry about Luci’s article kept her nerves on edge.

  “So how’s Sasha doing in first grade?” she asked. Talking about his daughter would be a safe way to start a conversation.

  “Good, good. She and Bella are in the same class, and they like their teacher.”

  “And since you read to her a lot, she probably has a head start there.”

  “Probably.” He raised an eyebrow. “I appreciate your interest in my daughter, Eva, but I don’t think that’s what you really want to talk about. What’s on your mind?”

  “Okay, I sent you Luci’s article today. Did you not see it?

  Avoiding her eyes, Mark carefully set his cup on the paper coaster. “I did. I read it.”

  “So, what do you think? Or is that a stupid question?”

  He looked up and met her gaze. “Aw, Eva, you can’t expect me to all of a sudden like fluff pieces. I’m like the leopard—I don’t change my spots.”

  Eva gripped the cup so hard the warmth of the porcelain made her skin tingle. “Fluff. I hate that word. Besides, the article is not fluff. You must have missed the part about Fran Oliver using the show to teach lessons in budgeting and comparison shopping.”

  “I got that. Still—”

  Eva made a fist and pounded the table. “If you kill this piece, I’m walking out of here right now. And I swear you’ll never see me again, will or no will.”

  He held up a hand. “Hold it. I never said we wouldn’t run it. But you can’t expect it to be page one.”

  “Why not? A school levy is up for a vote in November. Seems to me Luci’s article ought to be a boost for its passage. You are in favor of funding education, aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am. And you’ve got a point. But we also need to run the piece I wrote about the new highway construction. That’s big news. How about a couple of paragraphs at the bottom of page one for Luci’s article and the rest inside?”

  Eva narrowed her eyes. “I’ll go for that if we use one of Cody’s photos of the show as the page’s feature photo.”

  “Hmm.” Mark rubbed his chin.

  “Mark…” How could he be so stubborn?

  Finally, he said, “Okay, three columns and the feature photo.”

  Eva sagged back against the seat and let the tension seep from her stiff shoulders. Her face felt warm. As she ran a hand over her forehead, she caught Mark’s grin.

  “What?” she snapped, irked that he seemed to find their argument amusing.

  “I’ve never seen you so passionate about anything to do with the Herald. You enjoyed working with Luci and being out in the community. Didn’t you? Just a little?”

  Eva flattened her palms on the table. “So that’s what this is all about. You’ve been giving me a hard time so I’ll admit I enjoyed what I was doing?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Maybe. Sort of.”

  “Okay, I did like working with Luci and the other teens. But it had nothing to do with the Herald. Luci reminds me of myself at that age, when I was thinking about becoming a writer.”

  “When your dad mentored you.”

  Eva lifted her chin. “We need to get something straight. Seb never mentored me. My brother was the one he wanted to follow him at the newspaper.”
>
  “Why not both of you?”

  She shrugged. “Brett was always Dad’s favorite.”

  “But then when your brother died— Yes, don’t look so surprised. I know about his…accident at Pine Lake.”

  Accident. She put down her cup and hugged her arms against the pain that spiraled through her.

  “After that, your father did want you in the business. He sent you to school, didn’t he?”

  She snapped back to the present. “Why are we talking about this? What does it have to do with Luci’s article?”

  “Because I want to know more about your father. He was like a father to me sometimes.”

  Realizing how little she knew about him, she asked, “What about your own dad?”

  Mark set his jaw. “He walked out on my mother and me when I was a baby. He went to work one day and never came home. Mom tried to find him, but she never could. She raised me on her own.”

  “Where’s your mother now?”

  “She remarried but not until I was grown and out of the house. She and her new husband moved to Florida.” He waved his hand. “He’s an okay guy. He has a big family there, so she has lots of step-relatives. Mom saw Sasha once when they came for a visit. She sends gifts and letters, though, and phones occasionally.”

  “Well, good that Seb found you, then, isn’t it?”

  “I found him. I’m the one who came looking for a job.” He leaned forward. “But I also want to know more about what happened between you and him because I want to understand you better.”

  She widened her eyes. “Me? Why?”

  “Well, ah, because now you’re here, and we have a business to run. I want it to run as smoothly as possible.”

  “Oh. The newspaper. Of course.”

  “Maybe the newspaper isn’t the only reason…”

  He reached across the table and grasped her hand. She welcomed his touch. The kiss they’d shared on the Fourth of July seemed aeons ago.

  Mark looked about to say more, but just then a deep voice said, “Well, look who’s here.”

  Eva turned around to see Boyd Carlstrom lumbering toward them. Oh, no, not him. Not now.

  Maybe his interruption was a good thing, though. She and Mark were venturing into dangerous territory. She withdrew her hand from his and sat up straight.

  Boyd reached their booth. Instead of the suit jacket and trousers he wore when he and Eva met for lunch, tonight he was more casual in jeans and a blue windbreaker. The jacket hung open to reveal a white sweatshirt tightly stretched across his prominent stomach.

  Eva smiled up at him. “Hello, Boyd. You’re in town again.”

  “Yep. Lookin’ at property. Thinkin’ about moving back.” Turning to Mark, he stuck out his hand. The ruby fraternity ring gleamed under the overhead lights. “You must be Eva’s other half.”

  Mark scowled but reached out for a handshake. “I’m the other editor at the Herald,” he said in a tight voice.

  “Right. I’ve been meaning to stop in and introduce myself. See if the place has changed any since I was there. I know Dora’s still there. She’s been there since the Drakes were the owners. Saw her in town the other day, putting those scarves she makes in Betty’s Boutique.”

  Withdrawing his hand, Mark crossed his arms over his chest. “If you want to talk about buying the newspaper, don’t waste your time on me. My share isn’t for sale. Never has been, never will be.”

  Boyd’s eyelids flickered. “Good thing that isn’t the case with Eva here.”

  “This really isn’t a good time to discuss business.” Eva flashed Boyd what she hoped was a back-off look.

  Boyd’s slight nod indicated he got the message.

  “Just wanted to say hello. When Helen and I came in, I told her, ‘Hey, there’s someone I need to say hi to.’ I got her settled and came on over.” He nodded across the sea of tables to the bar along the far wall.

  Peering around him, Eva saw a slim blonde sitting on one of the stools, facing their direction. She grinned and fluttered her fingers. Eva waved back.

  Boyd pulled a brown leather wallet from a back pocket of his jeans and dug into it. He fished out a business card and slid it across the table to Mark. “In my business, I’ve learned never to say never. So, in case you change your mind, you’ll know where to reach me.”

  Mark made no move to pick up the card. He clamped his jaw shut and regarded Boyd with cold eyes.

  Boyd stuffed his wallet away. “Alrighty, then. Be seeing you. Especially you.” He pointed a pudgy finger at Eva. “Nice meetin’ you, Mark.”

  Mark barely nodded before Boyd turned away and shuffled back to his companion.

  Eva sagged against the back of the booth. She let a moment go by, waiting for Mark to speak first. When he didn’t, she said, “That was…awkward.”

  Mark shook his head and narrowed his eyes. “You’re not really considering doing business with that slimeball, are you?”

  His criticism of her judgment stung. She set her jaw. “Okay, so he could use a little polish. I told you how kind he was to me when I was a child. He must have some smarts to own so many newspapers.”

  “Do you think they’re as good as the Herald?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t read any of the ones he showed me. They looked the same, though.”

  “So are you going to sell to him?”

  “I can’t do anything until next summer. That’s nine months away.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “A looong way away.”

  “I’m sorry being here is such an ordeal for you.”

  She curled her fingers into fists. “I hate this bickering.”

  “So do I. We’ll call it a night.”

  “Fine by me.”

  As she rose from the booth to follow Mark, she glanced back at the table and saw Boyd’s business card still lying there. Mark’s insult to someone she considered a friend irked her and, even though she already had one from their lunch together, she picked up the card and tucked it into her pocket.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE FOLLOWING FRIDAY, Mark strode into Bernie’s cubicle. “Emergency staff meeting, four o’clock this afternoon.”

  Bernie looked up from the notes scattered across his desk. A frown knit his dark brows. “Staff meeting? Didn’t Eva take off at noon for Seattle?”

  “Yeah, she did. That’s why we’re having a meeting.”

  A look of understanding swept across Bernie’s face. “We need to discuss our future. Again.”

  “You got it.”

  Mark spread the word to the rest of the employees and at four o’clock they assembled in the staff room. Mark waited until they’d settled down with coffee and the pastry left over from April’s morning run to the Bon Ton, then he plunged in.

  “Boyd Carlstrom is in town again.” He told them what had occurred at the Beach Café. “He’s thinking about moving back to Willow Beach. He’s been looking at property.”

  “Because he plans to own the Herald again?” Bernie said.

  “Looks that way. He and Eva are pretty thick.”

  Dora’s knitting needles flew. “I thought she was settling in. At the Country Store the other day, she had a basket load of dishes, towels and throw rugs, stuff like that.”

  “She’s the consummate shopper,” Mark said. “I don’t think her buying stuff for her apartment means much.”

  “She was nice to me when we worked on the high-school fashion show.” Cody leaned back in his chair. “Told me what she wanted and then let me do my thing.”

  Mark cradled his coffee cup and nodded. “And I let her talk me into putting Luci’s article on page one. No offense to your fine photography, Cody. It’s always good enough for page one.”

  “None taken,” Cody said. “But Luci ran her draft by me before she showed it to Eva. I thought her take on the show was pretty good.”

  “It was good. But not page one. Fashion shows are not the kind of news we feature. We have letters to the editor that back me up on that. Our readers hav
e expectations—expectations that Seb established and that I aim to uphold.”

  “So what’s the bottom line here, boss?” Bernie asked, tapping his foot.

  Mark ran a hand through his hair. “We can’t allow Boyd to buy Eva’s share of the newspaper. We don’t want him here. Seb didn’t want him here, either.”

  “Boyd sounds like bad news, all right,” Bernie said. “Pun intended. But I don’t see how we can keep Eva from selling out to him if she wants to. Unless you can buy her out.”

  Mark snorted. “Huh! Not likely.”

  “Could you get a loan?”

  “I don’t know. I could look into it. Trouble is, we don’t know how much he’s offered her, and I doubt either one of them would tell us.”

  “Maybe if we all pooled our money…” Bernie said.

  “Yeah, we could be like a co-op,” Cody said.

  “I don’t want to take your money.” Mark shook his head.

  “But we want to help.” Dora put down her knitting and straightened her shoulders. “Let us try.”

  “I can give you fifty next paycheck,” Bernie said.

  “Josh and I have a CD coming due,” Dora said. “I’ll chip in a hundred.”

  “Put me down for twenty, but not till next week,” Cody said.

  April shrugged. “My landlord just raised our rent, but count me in for ten this week and ten more after payday.”

  Even if he could get a loan, Mark had his doubts about them ever raising enough money to match Boyd’s offer, but they were all looking at him with such enthusiasm that he couldn’t say no.

  “If that’s what you want to do, okay,” he said. “In the meantime, let’s do everything we can to make the Herald a publication Seb would be proud of.”

  *

  “WHAT DO YOU THINK of this outfit?” Susan Jensen held out her arms and twirled around as though she were a runway model.

  Eva turned from the rack at Belle Boutique where she was sorting through tops and gave her friend’s periwinkle-blue skirt and tunic top a sweeping gaze. “Very nice. Good color for you.”

  Susan patted her stomach. “Does the longer top make me look slimmer?”

  Eva tilted her head. “Um…”

  Susan pouted. “I know what you really want to say—that the only thing that will make me look slimmer is fewer raspberry scones. All your fault.” She pointed a finger. “If I hadn’t moved into your condo with that bakery on the street level, I would never have become addicted to those scones.”