Wishing Lake (20 page)

Peyton set her tray on a table in the far left corner of the dining area. She gestured toward the nearby window. “Look at this. It’s like a Christmas card.”

The window framed the shops at the northwest intersection. Trees were outlined with snow and dripping icicles. Oversized ribbons formed foot-long bows around the lamps on Main Street.

A smile tugged at Darius’s lips. “Will you be warm enough?”

“I’ll keep my coat on.” Peyton peeled her gaze from the window. “I forgot you’re probably used to this view.”

“I like seeing it through your eyes.” Darius shrugged off his topcoat.

They slipped into conversation easily: football games, both college and pro, their mornings and plans for the week. And then the discussion turned to the fund-raiser, what they’d accomplished and what remained on their task list.

Darius finished off his chicken noodle soup. “I think we should ask Ms. Helen to be our keynote speaker.”

“I agree.” Peyton sipped her lemon water. “Ms. Helen would be the perfect speaker for this event. She’s been involved with the center since the beginning.

“Great.” Darius gathered his sandwich. “I’ll ask her tonight.”

“I think we should go together.” Peyton finished her sandwich. “That would make it more of a formal invitation from the event cochairs.”

“All right. I’ll pick you up after work.” Darius swallowed more iced tea. “And I’ll let Ms. Helen know we’re coming.”

“Thank you.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, until a few beats later when Darius spoke again. “Are you leaving for New York right after commencement Saturday?”

“I’m not leaving until next Saturday, December twentieth.” Peyton lifted her chicken sandwich. “I’ll return December twenty-sixth, the day my parents leave for their cruise.”

“Why aren’t you going with them?”

Peyton shrugged one sexy shoulder. “I don’t want to.”

Fair enough. “I’m glad you’re only going to be gone for a week.”

“So am I.” Peyton smiled into his eyes. Minutes later, she was the one to break their companionable silence. “Ginny and I had a talk Tuesday night.”

Dread crawled up Darius’s back. “About what?”

“She warned me to stay away from you.”

Darius stilled. “Did she threaten you?”

“No, she just annoyed me.”

“What did she say?” Darius gritted his teeth as Peyton’s cheeks turned pink. That couldn’t be a good sign.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

“The only reason I brought this up is that I thought you should know.”

“Peyton. Tell me.” Darius willed her to talk to him.

She hesitated a moment longer, then lowered her voice. “She said you’d break my heart.”

It was worse than Darius had imagined. “Do you believe her?”

“Of course not.” Peyton reached across the table and covered his fist with her small hand. “Stop comparing yourself to Simon.”

“We should file a report with the sheriff.”

Peyton shook her head, drawing her hand back. “We don’t need to involve Alonzo. Besides, I think she’s done with us.”

“What makes you think that?”

Peyton’s gaze slid away from Darius. “I told her I’d tell everyone in town she was a stalker and that you had to file a restraining order against her.”

That couldn’t have gone over well. Ginny had nearly lost her mind when he’d requested the order. “That would take care of the situation.”

“She forced my hand.” Peyton lowered her voice again. “I just pointed out that, if you were such a horrible person, why was
her
name the one on the restraining order?”

Darius arched a brow. “You said that?”

Peyton straightened in her chair as though offended. “It’s a legitimate question. She has no right to talk about you like that. She’s a hypocrite and a liar.”

It was strange to have someone so passionately on his side. “Thank you, Peyton.”

“For what?” She frowned.

“For handling Ginny for me.”

An hour later, Darius was back in his cubicle in the
Monitor
’s newsroom, giving one of his news stories a final read when Opal Gutierrez interrupted him.

“Is it true that Jack Sansbury offered you the managing editor position?” From the threshold of his cubicle, Opal hurled the question at him like a blade.

Darius saved his computer file before turning to his unwelcomed guest. Opal’s hands were on her hips above her slim purple pants. Her dark eyes shot sparks at him. Even her dark hair seemed to vibrate with outrage.

“What makes you think Jack offered me a promotion?” But Darius knew the answer. He’d asked a trusted colleague to spread the rumor a week ago. He’d wanted to know how his promotion would be received, who would be resentful and who couldn’t care less. Several people were trying to work their way into his good graces. He hoped they soon realized he didn’t have any good graces and would go back to treating him like a normal person.

In contrast, Lei Chang had e-mailed him a list of demands: She photographed only hard news; she did not photograph happy-face images, social events, or community celebrations. And she worked alone. Nothing would ever change Lei. Thank goodness.

Opal’s eyes flared wider. “The rumors are all over the office. And they’re bullshit.”

Well, now he knew how Opal felt. She was the newest member of the newspaper’s staff and the only one who was angry.

“Why is it bullshit?”

“How could he just hand you the position?” She threw up her hands in exasperation. “He should have posted it so that everyone who’s interested could apply.”

“Are you interested?” Darius stretched his legs and crossed them at his ankles.

“Why not?” Opal narrowed her eyes. “Do you think I’m not qualified because I’m a woman?”

Oh, well played.
“That’s a strange question, considering our executive editor and second-in-command happens to be a woman.”

“I would have liked an opportunity to interview for the promotion.” Opal took a step closer.

Between him, Opal, and Opal’s temper, Darius’s cubicle felt crowded. “You’re only two years out of college. I have twelve years of experience.”
Not to mention you’re a sloppy reporter.

“This is cronyism, pure and simple.” Opal stabbed her right index finger toward Darius. “You and Jack went to high school together. That’s why you get preferential treatment.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, especially since it’s not true.”

“I work just as hard as you do.”

That isn’t true, either.
“It’s not only about your work ethic. It’s about experience.”

Opal paced away from Darius, then back. She pulled the fingers of her right hand through her heavy, black hair. “This isn’t fair and you know it. I’m going to complain to Jack.”

Darius shrugged. “He has an open-door policy.”

Opal’s gaze wavered. Had she expected a different reaction?

“This isn’t fair.” Opal blew out a frustrated breath. “He’s only been back at work four months and he’s already turned everything upside down. All I want is a chance.”

“You’ll get your chance, Opal. You just have to be patient.” Patience probably wasn’t a concept with which she was familiar.

“I don’t see that happening in this boys’ club. I’m going to talk to Jack.” She stormed out of his cubicle.

Darius’s hand hovered over his telephone receiver. He should warn Jackson that Opal was going to bring her complaints to him.

On second thought, why ruin the surprise? Darius dropped his hand and returned to his news story.

Around six o’clock that evening, Peyton stood with Darius on Ms. Helen’s porch. The covered landing provided some shelter from the biting wind. Darius pressed the doorbell, then moved closer to her, placing a hand on the small of her back. His tall, lean body lent additional protection from the cold. The gesture itself warmed her.

Ms. Helen didn’t keep them waiting long. A curtain moved in one of the front windows. Seconds later, the tiny lady appeared in the doorway wearing a pearl gray lounge suit and fuzzy pink slippers.

“You’re a little late for your shift, aren’t you?” She stepped aside to welcome them in.

Peyton glanced at Darius in confusion. It was only six-twenty in the evening. She thought they were early.

“Ms. Helen, I called to tell you I was going to be late.” Darius gestured Peyton to precede him into the house, then leaned down to kiss their hostess’s wrinkled cheek.

“Yes, you did do that.” Ms. Helen closed and locked the door.

Their hostess’s home smelled like apple cinnamon and looked like Christmas. Seasonal lights and garlands traced the archway between the front room and the rest of the house. A six-foot-tall Christmas tree dominated the room. It drew Peyton like a spell with its twinkling lights and vivid colors.

“What a beautiful tree.” Her voice was breathless with awe.

The tree was covered from top to bottom in elegant ornaments and tiny lights and crowned with an angel. The skirt swirling at its base sparkled with green, gold, blue, silver, and red glitter. The entire display was a tribute to the joy of the season.

“Thank you, dear.” Ms. Helen sounded pleased.

“Peyton has a tiny Charlie Brown tree sitting on a table in her apartment.” Darius’s voice teased her.

“Shame on you, Darius. At least she has a tree.” Ms. Helen shook her head. “One of my watchers helped me decorate it. I thought they could at least make themselves useful when they stop by.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call us that.” Darius shrugged out of his coat.

Ms. Helen turned to Peyton. “When you get to be my age, people parade in and out of your house at all hours of the day to make sure you’re still breathing. Darius has the last shift at six o’clock.”

Ms. Helen’s explanation only increased Peyton’s confusion. “Why do people come to your home in shifts?” She tugged off her gloves and tucked them into her coat pockets.

“That’s not what we’re doing.” Darius helped Peyton out of her coat, then hung it next to his on the ebony coat tree across the room. “She exaggerates the story more each time she tells it.”

“I don’t want you all thinking I’m some foolish old woman, falling for your I-was-in-the-neighborhood stories. I’m not.” Ms. Helen turned to Peyton. “Megan McCloud and Ean Fever have the earliest shift. They stop by around six in the morning for a glass of water on their way home from their jog.”

“That
is
early.” Peyton glanced at Darius.

Darius inclined his head toward Ms. Helen. “What she doesn’t tell you is that she’s waiting for them with the water.”

Ms. Helen continued. “Alonzo stops by around noon on his way to lunch at Books and Bakery. Doreen drops in around three o’clock after work. Then Darius arrives at six.”

“She makes a good argument, Darius.”

“We care about you, Ms. Helen.” Darius spread his arms. “You can’t blame us for that.”

“That’s the only thing keeping me from not letting the lot of you into my house.” Ms. Helen led them into her kitchen. “Would you like some tea? Doreen has been pushing this chai stuff on me. It’s not bad.”

“I’d love a cup. Thank you.” Peyton sank into the seat Darius held for her. She offered him a smile over her shoulder.

“Do you have regular tea?” Darius took the seat beside Peyton.

“Three cups of chai tea coming up.” Ms. Helen filled her kettle with filtered water, then set it on the stove to boil.

“Thank you, Ms. Helen.” Darius shook his head at the older woman’s deliberate contrariness. “Peyton and I would like you to be the keynote speaker for the Guiding Light Community Center fund-raiser.”

Ms. Helen pulled the mugs from her cupboards. “I thought you said the fund-raiser was going to be a dance.”

Peyton nodded. “It is.”

Ms. Helen added teabags to each of the three cups. “Why do you need a keynote speaker for a dance?”

Peyton folded her hands on the table. “We want someone to speak to the importance of the night’s event and the value of the community center to Trinity Falls’ residents.”

“You were the impetus behind the community center being built in the first place,” Darius added.

“Well, if you want me to speak, I’m sure I can come up with something to say.” Ms. Helen looked from Darius to Peyton. “What time do you want me there?”

Peyton felt a thrill of excitement. With Ms. Helen agreeing to be the speaker, everything was coming together. “We’re hoping to reserve the community center for seven to ten p.m., Saturday, January tenth. We haven’t confirmed the times yet, though.”

Ms. Helen nodded. “Let me know when the times are confirmed and if there’s anything in particular you want me to say.”

“Terrific.” Darius shot his cover model grin. “Thanks, Ms. Helen.”

“You’re welcome, dear.” Ms. Helen searched Darius’s features. “How are things going with your parents on the committee?”

“Peyton’s keeping them in line.” Darius covered Peyton’s left hand where it rested on the kitchen table. “It must be her years of experience as a teacher.”

“That ability to keep people in line does come in handy in a lot of situations.” Ms. Helen’s gaze dropped to Darius’s and Peyton’s hands before meeting Peyton’s eyes. “Yes, everything’s falling into place.”

Peyton saw the approval in the older woman’s dark eyes. Her cheeks heated with a blush. She hoped things were coming together. She was falling in love with the sexy and sensitive newspaper reporter. But did she have what it takes to hold on to the town’s most eligible bachelor?

Darius glanced at his watch as Peyton began the second community center fund-raising committee meeting the Thursday before Christmas. They’d gathered in the same town hall conference room. Everyone had arrived on time and had taken their same seats. With a little more luck, they’d conclude the meeting within the hour. He was anxious to spend some time alone with Peyton before she left for New York on Saturday.

Peyton was speaking when Darius tuned back in to the meeting. “Vaughn and Olivia, I think the registration acknowledgment letter you drafted is perfect. Does anyone have any comments?”

“I do.” Simon raised a hand. “I think everyone’s name should appear on the letter, not just yours and Darius’s.”

“Typically, it’s only the committee cochairs who sign the thank-you letters,” CeCe pointed out.

“I don’t care,” Simon countered. “We’re all doing work for this event. We should all get the credit.”

“Usually, the committee members are listed on the event’s program guide,” Olivia explained. The biology professor was dressed in faded blue jeans and a Cleveland Browns NFL team sweatshirt. Her short, brown hair was pulled back with a clip.

The last time the committee had met, the university was still in session. All of the professors had arrived to the meeting in business-casual slacks and sweaters. Now TFU was on Christmas break. Vaughn looked as though he hadn’t shaved since winter commencement almost a week ago.

However, Peyton didn’t appear to understand the definition of dressing down. She looked ready for the classroom in a pale purple sweater, dark blue corduroy slacks, and low-heeled black boots. Her explosion of copper curls bounced around her face. Sapphire earrings hung inches above her narrow shoulders.

“Well, who’s in charge of the program guide?” Simon frowned around the large conference table at the seven other members in attendance.

“That would be us, Simon.” Ethel gave her project partner a sarcastic look.

“Us?” Simon’s jaw dropped. “How do you know that?”

“Peyton sent an e-mail to everyone with detailed assignments two weeks ago.” Darius struggled to keep his impatience in check. “Did you get it?”

Simon dropped his gaze. “I haven’t read that e-mail yet.”

“Well, that explains why you don’t know what you’re doing.” Ethel gave her estranged husband a disgusted look.

Darius took a calming breath. “Do you have any updates for us?”

Simon shrugged. “I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.”

Ethel kissed her teeth. “Then you should have contacted Peyton.” She turned a smug expression to Darius, seated on Peyton’s right. “I’ve booked Wesley Hayes to be our disc jockey for the evening. I asked him to do it for free as a donation to the center, but he agreed to give us a discount instead.”

“We can pay Wesley his usual rate as part of the cost for the event,” Peyton rushed to reassure the other woman.

CeCe leaned forward on her chair. “Can you provide us with a budget update for the project? I’d like to make sure we’re not exceeding the money we’re bringing in from the business donations.”

Darius made a note of CeCe’s request. “We can do that.”

“Thank you.” The council member sat back on her seat.