He searched his desk for his calendar and opened it to May. Nope, nothing written here about a meeting with anyone, although he didn’t exactly use his calendar very often. He hadn’t even made a note of Kalista’s interview. Maybe Evelyn had scheduled Jade and not told him. If so, he’d have a word withher about keeping him apprised of stuff like this. He didn’t like being unprepared. Especially not where Jade was concerned, although his sister had no idea who she was.
Then he thought of a more likely explanation—Jade had a meeting with someone else in the building. Including the press and circulation rooms in the basement,The Times’s operation took up most of the 1920s brick structure. But there were two other offices on the third floor that housed businesses—Larry Wilson’s insurance company and Benji Mason’s fledgling chiropractor practice. Good, he had nothing to worry about.
Except his accelerated pulse. That could be explained by his hurrying to his office, although he’d never had a heightened heartbeat before from fast walking. Surely it wasn’t because of Jade. He’d blocked his feelings from her many years ago. One glimpse of her wouldn’t cause them to resurface. No way, no how—
“Mr. H.—”
“What!”
Tyler flinched, his head poking inside the door. “Uh, sorry to disturb you.”
“No, I’m sorry, Tyler. I’m...”Confused.“Is Kalista ready?”
Tyler frowned. “Kalista?”
“Yeah, the girl, um, woman, that’s interviewing for the delivery job. Blond hair, uh...” He couldn’t remember what she was wearing. Although he did notice that Jade had on a plum-colored blouse, navy blue pants, and she still sported plain black pumps, the same kind she wore back in the day—
“The one wearing the pretty blue-and-white flowered dress?” Tyler asked.
“Uh, sure. That one.”
“Yes, she’s here too.” His eyes turned moony. “Kalista. That’s a nice name.”
“What do you mean ‘too’?”
“There’s another lady who wants to see you.”
His stomach sank. “Please tell me it’s not the redhead.”
“Okay, but I’d be lyin’ if I did.”
Seb shifted in his chair. Okay, so Jade was here to see him. But what could she possibly want after all these years?
“Mr. H.?”
“All right, send her in.”
“Which one?”
He paused. He was extremely curious about Jade, but he already agreed to interview Kalista right now. “Kalista,” he said. “Tell Jade, er, Ms. Smith to wait in the reception area.”
“Will do. Then I’ll head over to Cherry Hill to cover their library reopening.”
“Right. Thanks, Tyler.”
“Sure thing, Mr. H.”
When Tyler left, Seb fell back in his chair, questions flooding his mind. After Jade had told him about the job in Atlanta, she quit immediately without notice and without talking to Seb again. He’d been hurt over that too, but more frustrated with himself for jumping to the wrong conclusion about their short relationship. After she was out of his life, he moved on. Not with a new girlfriend, but with his job, and then he’d boughtThe Timesand moved back here. Buying the newspaper had been a godsend in more ways than one, since it kept and continued to keep him extremely busy, to the point that Jade Smith moved to the recesses of his memory. Eventually he stopped thinking about her.
But seeing her again, even for a few minutes, and knowing she would be in his office soon, sent him inexplicably reeling. Had she moved back to Arkansas, and was she just dropping by for a visit? Or was she passing through and wanted to say hello? He discardedboth of those. She’d specifically said meeting, which denoted business. But what business could she possibly have with him and/orThe Times?
* * *
Kalista sat in the reception area atThe Clementine Timesand crossed her legs. She tapped her nails against her elbow and glanced around the old, tired-looking space. Framed newspaper columns were all over the walls. Two seats down sat the redheaded woman she’d argued with earlier. She was a piece of work, all high and mighty and demanding in her boring navy blue business suit. It was sweltering out and she had a jacket on. She did have pretty hair, though. Kalista would give her that.
She brushed off the old dress Viv had given her to wear, certain that there was dirt on the country blue-and-white flowered fabric. Polyester again, although she had to admit that she liked the fit of the dress, which reached to her mid-calf. With its three-quarter sleeves, it certainly was modest. And hot. How did people back in olden days deal with this heat when their fabrics didn’t breathe?
And then there was the truck—an old green jalopy that backfired when she turned the ignition key. She’d never driven such a big vehicle before, much less one with no power steering. The radio was broken and only played AM stations, so she couldn’t even listen to her music. She did feel a little bad she’d scared the tall man who had been talking to the redheaded woman, but she was in a hurry and didn’t want to miss the interview.
