Storm Front (Reunited Hearts) (11 page)

So
many days and nights, she’d mentally played out absurd fantasies of his falling
in love with her. She’d had a whole collection of daydreams of different ways Michael
might declare himself, kiss her the first time, make love to her, ask her to
marry him.

Allison
groaned out loud in the darkness of the room. Then she flipped on her
television to distract herself from those humiliating memories.

She
was smarter now than she’d been at eighteen. She might not be as distanced as
she should be about Michael, but she wasn’t too far gone to not move on with
her life.

If
it wasn’t for the dog, she might decide to close down communication with him
completely, just to make sure her heart remained safe.

But
she couldn’t desert the poor dog.

Besides,
Michael’s eyes had been so appealing as he’d said goodbye to her in front of
his townhouse. He’d always been able to do that—make her feel desirable, make
her believe she was special to him.

Despite
his reputation, he wasn't a bad guy.

She
just wouldn’t get her hopes up this time.

*
* *

First thing the next
morning, Allison called up Jeff to go over her experiences and figure out how
she might make use of them.

This
unforeseen opportunity could be a huge advantage to her career. Her magazine
focused on human interest stories, mostly in the D.C. area—but the coast was
close enough. The freak storm was a far bigger story than any of the other
minor projects she’d been given so far. If she could get something written
today, it could be posted soon enough to still be timely.

After
they’d talked over the notes she’d collected and the interviews she’d done as
she left the coast, Jeff asked, “So who was this guy you were stranded with?”

“No
one important,” Allison replied without thinking. “He’s not the interesting
part of the story. I think I should focus on the earlier stuff.”

Jeff
didn’t argue, and Allison felt relieved. She’d never actually processed the
decision. She just knew she wasn’t going to give Michael up like that. She felt
bad enough about lying to him. She wasn’t going to betray him.

Michael
Martin would make for a juicy story, but Allison realized, no matter how
committed she was to her career, there were some things she still wouldn’t do.

She
wasn’t going to use him for a story.

She
worked for most of the day and was pleased with the results as she submitted
her story. She kept an eye on her cell phone the whole afternoon and evening
but, whenever it rang, it was just a succession of her friends—who all wanted
to hear about her adventures.

Michael
didn’t call.

Allison
shrugged it off. He was probably busy catching up after two days away from
work. There was no reason he had to call her right away.

She
did want to hear about the dog, though. After she’d finished working, she
started calling up the shelters, veterinarians, and animal control in the area
they’d found the dog to see if anyone had reported a lost dog matching his
description.

She
hung out with friends that evening and had a good time, but the next morning
was Saturday and she still hadn’t heard from Michael. So she went over to his
townhouse in the middle of the morning.

She
felt a little worried about the silence. It had just been a day, but when
they’d parted Michael had acted like he was going to get in touch right away.
Plus, she wanted to report the results of her research about the dog.

Her
stomach fluttered as she knocked on the front door. She told herself not to be
nervous. She didn’t have his phone number, and she had every right to check on
the dog.

There
was no answer to her knock.

Allison
stood blankly on the front step, torn about what she should do. Surely he
wouldn’t have gone back to New York without telling her.

Then
she heard a happy yap from down the block.

She
turned to see the dog, pulling on his leash in his eagerness to get to her. The
animal looked remarkably better—bathed, brushed, and energetic. Michael was on
the other end of the leash, lean and straight in his casual clothes.

Allison
stepped down to the sidewalk and grinned as they approached, her heart skipping
a little at the sight of Michael’s tall figure and dark hair.

As
he drew nearer, however, she saw his expression was cold and stiff. Her smile
faltered as she recognized the hardness of his eyes.

Something
was definitely wrong.

“Michael?”
she asked, her voice cracking as he walked up to her, “What is it?” She leaned
down to absently scratch the dog behind the ears.

Michael’s
blue eyes were empty, but his brows drew up in an arrogant sneer. “Did you need
something?”

She
straightened up sharply, fear rushing through her. “I didn’t have your phone
number. I wanted to…wanted to check on the dog.”

“He’s
fine.”

“It’s
nice of you to take care of him.”

“I
didn’t have much choice, did I?”

She
swallowed hard as his clipped tone but kept trying. “I called around about the
dog. No one seems to be missing him.”

“I
did my own research.”

“Oh.”
She stared at him, feeling a little shaky on her legs. “Michael?”

His
mouth curled up, but it wasn’t a smile. “I thought you’d be busy, writing your
story.”

It
felt like a kick in the gut. “Michael—”

He
brushed past her, striding up the walk to the front door. “Excuse me.” He had
to drag the dog behind him, since the animal was still trying to greet Allison.

Allison
followed. “At least let me explain.”

“Explain
what?” He gave a bitter laugh as he unlocked the door. “Don’t worry about it. I
had a good time. Even scheming, manipulative bitches can be good fucks.”

Allison
jerked back, like she’d been struck. “That’s not what happened. If you’d just
let me explain—”

“To
what purpose? Did you want to keep the dog?”

“I
can’t,” she said, momentarily taken aback by the sudden shift in topic. “He
wouldn’t be allowed in my building.”

He
gave a curt nod in response and stepped into his house. When the dog strained
toward Allison, he bit out, “Ingrate. Come.”

The
dog responded instinctively to the authority in Michael’s voice and followed
him into the house.

Allison
stood and stared at the closed door. Her vision blurred as tears of shock and
pain filled her eyes.

After
a minute, she finally turned to leave.

*
* *

That afternoon, Michael
sat at his desk and stared blindly at his computer monitor. He’d been trying to
work, but it was mostly just a pretense. He couldn’t seem to focus on anything.

He
couldn’t believe Allison had the nerve to show up at his door. She'd gotten her
story. What else could she possibly want from him?

She’d
looked so stunned and upset by his perfectly justified attitude.

A
whimper at his feet caused him to glance down. Ingrate lay in a heap on the
polished hardwood floor, peering up at him with big brown eyes.

“Don’t
look at me that way,” Michael said. “She tried to use me. What else could she
expect?”

Another
surge of humiliation slammed into him, followed by a wrenching ache in his
chest. He’d been a fool far too many times in his life. He’d thought, in the
last five years, that he’d built up appropriate barriers and learned to
recognize deception in others.

But
he couldn’t seem to learn his lesson.

First
Gina—something that still embarrassed and angered him. And now Allison. He
really should have known to look out for self-serving, deceptive women, no
matter how innocent they appeared.

He
wasn’t going to lower his guard again.

A
story on a D.C. blog about him wasn’t the end of the world—his reputation wouldn’t
suffer a serious blow.

That
didn’t mean he’d forgive the woman who wrote it.

When
his phone rang, he glanced down at the caller ID and didn’t pick it up. When
the voice mail picked up, he slid his fingertip across the screen to adjust the
setting so he could hear Allison’s voice in his silent office.

“Michael,
it’s me. Allison. I had to find your number because I need to explain. I don’t
think you understand what happened.”

Ingrate
sat up, his ears perking at the sound of her voice. Michael didn’t move.

“It’s
true I lied to you. I’m sorry about that. I even tried to tell you the truth
the second day, but I…I didn’t. You’d said how much you hate reporters, and I
was afraid you wouldn’t cooperate with me in staying safe if you knew what I do
for a living. Plus, I admit, it did occur to me at first that there might be a
story in it. Remember, I hardly knew you anymore, and my opinion of you wasn’t
the best. It wasn’t really calculated, but I did consider it. But that was only
at first. Nothing I did—”

There
was a beep, as the allotted message time ran out. Michael waited. The phone
rang again, and Allison continued her message where she left off.

“Me
again. Anyway, nothing I did other than that first lie was part of a plan or
intended to trick you. I like and respect you. I really do. I enjoyed the
nights we spent together a lot. I’m not trying to use you. I’m just not. My
editor was hinting around for a story, but I didn’t tell him who I was with.
I’m not going to write about you. I know you’re angry, but I hope you can forgive
the one lie I told you. And that’s…that’s it.” There was a slight pause until
she added, “I can’t believe you named the dog Ingrate.”

The
message clicked off. Michael sat in frozen silence for a long time. Then he
reached over and erased the two messages.

He
called up Julie and asked her to make arrangements for him to fly back to New
York the following morning.

*
* *

Allison got into bed
that night knowing Michael wasn’t going to call her back.

It
had been a slim hope anyway. He wasn’t the kind of man who would forgive easily
once he’d been used or deceived. His defenses were simply too strong and his
pride too unyielding.

She
told herself it was fine. She wasn’t about to beg or keep asking Michael to
forgive her. She didn’t have a future with him anyway. It would have been nice
to end things amicably, but at least this way she wouldn’t be left with silly,
lingering dreams of something that could never happen.

She
was a grown-up, not an eighteen-year-old girl. She felt bad, but this wasn’t
the end of the world.

After
she’d turned off her bedside lamp, however, she buried her face in a pillow and
cried.

Chapter Eight

 

Allison had no idea
what to expect when Jeff called her into his office that morning.

She’d
been busy for the last three weeks, which was a relief since it helped to keep
her mind off of Michael. The three articles she’d written based on her
experiences with Tropical Storm Lydia had been unexpected successes, and Allison
was hoping their popularity would be advantageous to her career.

So
her best guess at the moment was that Jeff had a particular assignment for her,
one he wanted to discuss in person.

She
had no idea what it might be.

“Try
not to be too grateful,” he began, without greeting or preamble.

“Okay,”
Allison replied with a confused smile. She lowered herself into a chair and
felt her heart starting to race in expectation. “I’ll do my best to restrain my
gratitude.”

“I
mean it,” he continued gruffly. He was a grizzled middle-aged man who was
fighting an increasing waistline thanks to his fondness for donuts and Danishes.
“Don’t get weepy on me or offer me any inappropriate favors.”

With
a chuckle, Allison said, “I promise I’ll repress any inappropriate urges.”

Jeff
almost never smiled, but she recognized dry humor in his tone. “I’ve got an
assignment for you. Since you’re our voice for Lydia, I thought I’d send
you—even though you’re not nearly important enough for this assignment.”

Allison
was literally holding her breath now, excited jitters running up and down her
spine. “What is it?”

“I
want you to cover a benefit for the victims of Lydia next weekend. It’s a big
deal. It’s not in our normal area, but since it’s connected to the storm,
someone should cover it. It’s—”

Her
heart dropped into her gut. “Not the one that Michael Martin is—”

“Yeah,
that’s the one,” Jeff said, lifting his eyebrows. “So you’ve heard of it, have
you? It's supposed to be a big hoopla. Art show, gala, all kinds of big-wigs
coming in. I know you’re elated at the opportunity, but try not to faint or
anything.”

Allison
did kind of feel like passing out, but it wasn’t from joy or gratitude. She’d
heard that Michael was planning the huge benefit, and she hadn’t been sure what
to think of it. Several communities on the coastline had been
devastated—including Sunset Cape Island—and the money raised through the
benefit would be used to help rebuild the towns.

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