Jade frowned. She was regretting her decision to tell Charlotte about her meeting with Miles, including her past relationship with Sebastian. She didn’t get into details, only told her that they usedto casually date. She should have known Charlotte would be nosy. “He’s being stubborn. He won’t even look at the pitch.”
“Who cares about the pitch? I want to know how he was looking atyou.”
Definitely not with bedroom eyes. Her cheeks heated and she took a gulp of water. She had to stop thinking about Sebastian that way, or any other way other than a businessman. “He’s taken,” she said. Jade didn’t know if that was true, but maybe it would stop Charlotte in her matchmaking tracks.
“Really?” Charlotte sighed. “Well,fahrvergnügen.I’d hoped you two had rekindled your old flame.”
“Farfen-what?”
“You know, from that car commercial years ago?”
“Huh?”
“You need to watch more TV. There’s this new show calledThe Bachelorettethat’s really good.”
What Jade needed was to get back to work. “Nothing’s going on with me and Sebastian, and nothing ever will. There. Case closed.”
“Never saynever.”
“Charlotte—”
“I know, I know. You’re doing fine and everything’s fine and you don’t need a social life because everything’s fine. Got it. But just in case everything isn’tfine,you should be open-minded. Just sayin’.”
“Noted.”
“Gotta go, meeting in five minutes. If you need any more advice, I’m here for you.”
Jade smiled. “Thanks, Charlotte. I’ll see you soon.” She dropped the phone into her briefcase and rubbed both temples this time before glancing at her watch. Almost an hour and a half had passed since she talked to Sebastian. Was that long enough? Or shouldshe wait another thirty minutes or so? Yes, that would be prudent. She didn’t want to pop up there right away, and during that time she could go over her pitch, refine it, and memorize it again since she forgot it during their meeting.
She looked up and saw the list of desserts on the specials board. Coconut cream pie. Her favorite. But she couldn’t. She shouldn’t...
“Tad?” She lifted her hand and motioned him over.
* * *
Shortly after Evelyn Margot left his office, Seb finished up his column and delivered it to Paul and Cletus in the basement, trying to put the morning out of his mind. The cousins not only ran the press, but they also did the layout, although Evelyn was urging Seb to computerize the design process. “I can do it a lot faster on a Mac,” she said. “I’ve looked into it. The learning curve isn’t that steep.”
No doubt she would do an excellent job, but he wasn’t ready to give up tradition. Besides, with the paper moving to twice a week, he’d already cut back Paul’s and Cletus’s hours. He didn’t want to take more work away from them or they might move on to somewhere else. He wouldn’t blame them if they did.
He opened the door to the press room. The printing press was running, spitting out the Thursday edition ofThe Timeswhile a large fan was blowing nearby, cooling off the room but not rustling the stacks of newspapers on the other side of the expansive area. Fortunately they had enough space to print and set up distribution so they didn’t have to rent an additional space. “Here’s my column,” he said, handing Paul a manila folder.
The man took it with his dye-stained hands. “Thanks. Can’t wait to read it.” His jowls sagged as he frowned.
What now?Seb braced himself. “Something wrong?”
He nodded, adjusting the brim of his weather-beaten and ink-stained red Razorbacks baseball cap. Seb had never seen the man without it. He gestured to the printing press. “Ol’ Bessie’s having trouble again.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“A lot of this, that, and the other.”
Seb didn’t pretend to fully understand how the ancient press worked, but he listened as Paul described in detail what parts of the machine were problematic as Cletus manned the controls. Seb had never been mechanically inclined, and the cousins knew the press inside and out. He trusted their judgment, expertise, and affinity toward the machine. They were the ones who christened her “Bessie.”
“We can nurse her along for a little while,” Paul concluded.
Dread filled him. “How long?”
“Not sure. I’d find a new press in the meantime.”
