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“Come on, Mer,” he said, catching the familiarity only afterward, when it was too late to stop himself. “You can charm the pants off him, that’s what you can do. You’re damn good at that.”
She glanced at him sharply and said, “I don’t think any of us wants that.”
He had to be careful of this thinking about her personally, because obviously some part of his subconscious was having trouble distinguishing between the way he used to feel about her, back when they were just kids, versus what he felt for her now that they were nothing more than casual work associates.
What he needed to concentrate on was the success of his plan. Securing Lenny Doss and saving the company. The idea had taken hold and was mattering more and more to him. He couldn’t say for sure if his desire was more a compulsion to help future generations who were innocent of his father’s poison, or if he just wanted to “show up” the old man by saving the company that George had nearly destroyed.
He wanted both, but the balance tended to swing a little more toward the latter than the former.
Not that it mattered. Everyone involved had a common goal, and it didn’t matter how they got there, did it?
“Okay, I’m sorry,” he said. “But you know what I mean. There’s a lot you can do to help persuade him, because you are a smart, beautiful wo—person. And you can present the case in a truthful and persuasive manner.”
She faced him, looking surprised for a moment, then gave one conciliatory nod. “Your faith in me might be a little unfounded. But, fine, I’ll do it.”
“You’ll go?” He couldn’t believe it.
It was almost a date.
At least, the prospect of it made him feel as nervous as he would have if it was a first date. And he was seventeen.
“I’ll go.” She nodded again, that rich brown hair gleaming in the light. “But only to meet the guy and feel the situation out. I’m not promising I’m going to be buying a ticket for the Lenny Doss love train.”
“Honey, that train doesn’t even stop at this station,” Evan said with a smile. He could have pulled her into his arms and kissed her at that moment, but he didn’t.
This was business, he reminded himself. And everything that happened would remain just business, even if the look in her eyes or the curve of her mouth made him think of things that were distinctly unbusinesslike.
So he would take on the manner of the gregarious boss, enthusiastic about his work. “All we need to be concerned with is the Lenny Doss ratings train. And that—” he opened his arms “—is about to call Hanson Broadcasting its home station.”
Chapter Eight
This was, of course, not a date. And they both knew it. So Meredith hated the impulse she had to make herself up for the evening.
More than that, she hated that she wasn’t able to stop feeling the impulse.
Her mother had moved back to Tampa almost a year ago now, and Meredith was back in the suburban Chicago home she’d grown up in. It had made sense for her to move in, since her mother wasn’t emotionally ready to let go of the house, yet wasn’t physically able to maintain it any longer.
Meredith was back in Chicago for her work and, since she needed a place to live, the old house had fit the bill perfectly, though it was sometimes disconcerting to find herself having her Cheerios in the same old kitchen.
That was changing. Meredith wasn’t the sort of person who could actually live in that kind of time warp. But renovation was going slowly, thanks in part to slow contractors and in part to Meredith’s limited funds, so the house still looked very much as it had ten or twenty years ago.
This hadn’t bothered her at all until now, when she was looking into a bathroom mirror that had reflected her image when it was that of a fresh-faced high-school girl getting ready for a date with the somewhat wild, but deep-down sweet, bad boy Evan Hanson himself.
“You shouldn’t be going out with that kid,” her father had told her one night as she was getting ready to go see the new Hal Burkett movie with Evan. “He comes from a bad family.”
“Oh, Daddy, he doesn’t come from a bad family. His father’s just a bully, that’s all.”
Her father had snorted and it was only now that she understood the pain that had tightened his expression for a moment. “If the boy is anything like his father, you would do best to stay as far away from him as possible.”
“He’s really great, Daddy. Honest. You trust my judgment, don’t you?”
“I don’t trust anything where George Hanson’s family is concerned.”
She’d gone to him and hugged him tight, her arms closing too easily around a frame that used to have a lot more bulk to it. He wasn’t healthy. He worked all the time. She worried about that.
“Evan must have had a wonderful mother, because he’s one of the best guys I ever met. Besides you, of course. I know she’s gone now, but he had her up until last year. That’s a lot of time for him to learn to be something other than his father.”
“You always see the best in people,” her father had said with something like amazement. “But you have to believe me when I tell you that sometimes people are not what they seem. Trust, but always be at least a little cautious. Take care of yourself when I’m not there to do it for you.”
She’d kissed his cheek. “I’ll be fine, Daddy, I promise you.”
Her own words had echoed tauntingly in her memory for some time after that.
Now look at her.
Life had changed a lot since those days, yet here Meredith was, still looking at the same old face—though somewhat older—in the same old mirror, trying to accent the same old green eyes and too-full lips to make the same old boy think she was pretty.
She had to be crazy.
Why did this matter so much to her?
It didn’t, she told herself as she carefully brushed a mossy green shadow in a thin line along her lashes. Not too much, just enough to make her eyes stand out.
It made sense that she should look her best for a meeting with talent the company was trying to hire, didn’t it?
So this wasn’t really to impress Evan, she reminded herself as she struggled to bring her long, wavy, chestnut-colored hair under control with a ceramic flat iron. She merely wanted to look her best so that these men would take her seriously professionally. It would have been foolish for her to face them with the distraction of sleep-deprived pale skin and wild, unruly hair.
She had to make herself look like the sleek professional she was.
The clock ticked slowly forward as she prepared for the evening. The truth was, the time seemed to be going extra slowly. It didn’t take that long to do her makeup and hair, but she was so agitated about spending the evening out with Evan that she wanted to keep busy until it was time to leave.
Instead, she found herself dressed up with nowhere to go and nothing to think about other than Evan for an hour before she needed to leave for Navy Pier.
Meredith purposely waited in her car an extra few minutes before meeting Evan and Lenny Doss.
Evan had volunteered to pick her up and give her a ride, but she had declined, and though she couldn’t say exactly why, it probably had a lot to do with the fact that it was weird enough seeing Evan again—she couldn’t quite bring herself to look at him under the front porch light of her parents’ house right now. It would be just too … eerie.
Besides, she wanted to maintain as much control over the situation as she could. And as she sat in the car watching the minutes tick away on the digital readout in the dash, she reminded herself that was exactly what she was doing.
Maintaining control.
Ten minutes past the time that her stomach began twisting and telling her to hurry up you can’t be late she got out of her car, pushed the lock button on her key chain and walked at a measured pace to the restaurant.
Her biggest dread was being the first one there, sitting like an idiot alone at the table waiting for a man she had once known and loved.
Fortunately, both men in question were already there, sitting at a mercifully large round table with half-filled glasses of beer in front of them.
Evan looked amazing in a light-blue band collar cotton shirt and khakis that emphasized his physique without being so tight they looked like he was about to hit the dance floor for a disco contest.
Lenny, on the other hand, was wearing exactly that kind of pants: tight dark-blue jeans with a loud Hawaiian-print shirt that looked about two sizes too small and should have had at least three more buttons fastened in order to look acceptable, if not great.
“Meredith,” Evan called when he saw her. He stood up and beckoned her over to the chair next to him.
Was it her imagination or did he looked relieved?
Meredith gave a smile of thanks to the hostess, took a short, bracing breath and smiled at the two men. “Hi there. I’m sorry if I’m late.”
“Not at all,” Evan said. “Please, sit down. This is Lenny Doss. Lenny, this is Meredith Waters. She works in the publicity department. She’ll be helping us come up with some promotional ideas for your return to network broadcasting.”
“Oh?” She shot Evan a questioning glance. “Did the two of you come to terms on a contract?”
“Not yet,” Lenny said. “But now that I get a gander at the talent they got back at the office, I gotta say, I’m a little more inclined to sign.”
Evan’s ire was immediately up. “Hey—”
Meredith put a hand up to stop him. She could handle this herself, without ugliness. “It’s the on-air talent that we’re concerned with at the moment, Mr. Doss. Do you think you can really live up to our expectations?”
Lenny started posturing, exactly as she’d thought he would. “Just you watch,” he said, sliding a hand through his slicked-back, thinning hair.
The waitress stopped by and discreetly took Meredith’s order for a glass of Chardonnay.
“And can you keep yourself in line?” Meredith went on to Lenny. “It’s my understanding that you’ve had a little trouble with that in the past. Hanson Media won’t put up with you incurring FCC fines, you know.”
“It’s in the contract,” Evan said to her quietly.
She was impressed. For a guy who’d never really worked in the business world, he was pretty good. She turned and gave him a quick wink.
“So what about it, Mr. Doss?” she asked, then took a sip of her wine. It was bitter. She hated wine, actually, but not as much as she hated beer or any of the other alternatives. And ordering a soda would have looked so prim and proper that a guy like this would probably have held it against her. “Should we give you a chance? And if so, why?”
He wasn’t that easy, unfortunately. “The question is, should I give you a chance.” He took a long swig of his beer then belched hideously. The look in his eyes was one of sheer pride. “And I’m not so sure about that yet.”
Evan moved in his chair, effectively putting himself fractionally closer to Meredith. He didn’t do it consciously, she could tell, but it was a protective move nevertheless.
And she found it comforting.
She sank, ever so slightly, against his presence and, bolstered by that, said to Lenny, “You’re going to have to make up your mind, because we’re in talks with Howard Stern, as well.”
Lenny’s eyes shot up to hers. “You are?” Then he frowned and said, “No way. No, you aren’t.”
“He costs more than you do,” she said casually, taking a roll out of the basket in the center of the table. “But, as you know, he’s got better ratings.”
“Only because he’s been in more markets.”
She shrugged and pulled the roll apart, buttering half of it with deliberate slowness. “I don’t know. We’re just looking at the bottom line. Right, Evan?”
His brown eyes were bright with amusement. It looked as if he’d been planning to simply sit back and watch the conversation between Lenny and Meredith unfold, so when she mentioned his name it took a second for him to say, “Right. Bottom line. It’s all about the bottom line.”
Lenny’s small dark eyes shot from Meredith to Evan and back again. She could practically see his mind working. “I hear that,” he said, with much forced casualness. “Uh-huh.” His cell phone rang—an aggressive measure from a Green Day song—and he pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open. “Yo,” he said into the phone. “Speak.”
After a moment, he said, “Heeyyyy, Roberts.” Meredith guessed by “Roberts” he was talking about Karl Roberts, his agent. “I’m just meeting here with Hanson and a chick from the publicity department. They’re trying to talk me into signing but I don’t know, man. What you got for me? Is Clear Channel Radio still nipping at us, too?” He flashed a self-satisfied glance at Evan and Meredith.
It disappeared quickly, though. “What’s that?” Lenny asked. It may have been Meredith’s imagination, but she thought she saw panic flicker in Lenny’s eyes. “They’re not?” He glanced in Evan’s direction again and quickly turned away, saying, “So what’s their offer?”
Another pause during which Lenny looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Interesting. But I want to wait and see what Hanson can come up with. It’s not just about the money. I like these guys.” He winked at Evan and Meredith. “You tell Clear Channel they’re just going to have wait and see what I do with Hanson. I think they may pull through with the winning bid.” He smiled, but his face had definitely paled a shade or two.
Meredith took the opportunity to turn to Evan and when she did she saw by the telltale dimple that he was holding back a smile. So he was clearly hearing everything she was, and they both knew they had Lenny Doss in their sights if they wanted him.
“All right, man,” Lenny said, paling another shade. “There’s more to a deal than just money. You let me finish talking to Hanson here and I’ll give you a call back. In the meantime, you can tell Clear Channel to just cool their jets. We’ll answer them when we’re ready.” He flipped the phone shut and put it back in his pocket, shaking his head and muttering, “Agents. Can’t live with them, can’t kill them.”
Meredith smiled. “Was that your agent?” She knew it was, of course, and she was almost positive from all of Lenny’s blustering and body language that Hanson was his only offer. She almost felt sorry for him.
Nevertheless, she had to play hardball.
Lenny nodded in answer to her question. He was clearly trying to appear ultracasual. “Yeah, he’s going on about some other offer. But, as you may have heard, I’m interested in what Hanson’s putting out there.”
“You know what Hanson’s putting out there,” Evan said, then made a point of looking at his watch. “But listen, Len, I’ve got time constraints tonight, and I know Meredith is on her way someplace else, so I think we’re going to have to wrap this up.”
Meredith nodded, picking up Evan’s cue. “That’s right.” She glanced at Evan. “Don’t you have an appointment tomorrow to speak with …?” She mumbled a name that she hoped sounded like Artie Petro, one of Lenny’s biggest competitors.
Evan picked right up on it. “Yes, I do.”
They both turned to Lenny, who now looked like a raccoon caught going through the trash in the middle of the night.
“Then let’s sign, man,” he said loudly. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“Okay, then.” Evan smiled. “We’ll get the contracts to your agent tomorrow.”
“Great. Got another appointment,” Lenny said. “This one’s personal, if you know what I mean.” He gave Evan a lascivious wink.
“I know exactly what you mean,” Evan told him evenly, his voice hard but tinged with humor.
Meredith had to suppress a giggle.
Lenny nodded, oblivious. “Monday morning, 6:00 a.m. shift?”
“You’ve got it,” Evan said.
Meredith was amazed at how soon Evan had him slated to start, but she said nothing.
“Great.” Lenny gave a bobbing nod. “So, it was cool meeting you,” he said to Meredith. “Evan, man, I look forward to working with you.”
“Same here,” Evan said. “You just make sure you keep yourself in line. Don’t forget paragraph eleven.”
Lenny looked blank. “Paragraph eleven?”
Evan nodded. “The contract you’re about to sign. Paragraph eleven says you pay all FCC fines you incur and that incurring such a fine makes our side of the contract null and void.”
“Oh, that.” Lenny waved a hand, but there was a nervousness in his eyes that he couldn’t hide. “Don’t worry about a thing,” he assured them. “I’ll be walking the straight and narrow. No problem.”
