“Ahem.”
Hell, there went the last remnants of his dignity. The realization brought a wave of irritation. It was her fault that he was there at all. Otherwise, he’d still be in bed and no one at the office would bear witness to his indignity. But no, he had to protect her from his foul uncle and that weasel, Emil. And the worst part was that she didn’t even know he was protecting her.
“I’m afraid you caught me in deep thought.”
“So that’s what that was.”
Mack cocked his head to the side. Did he detect humor beneath her deadpan tone? Her lips quirked to one side, and his heart skipped a beat. Honestly, the whole situation was ridiculous. There was nowhere to go but up from there. The reminder helped him find his composure, and his editorial persona slid into place.
“I didn’t expect to see you so early. You must have some interesting ideas for me.”
“Yes, I believe so.” She swallowed and smoothed the top of her notebook with short, repetitive motions.
Mack realized with a jolt that the vivacious woman in front of him was nervous. Despite his earlier irritation, compassion filled him. She was a stenographer attempting a male-dominated field where it was notoriously difficult for women to be appointed a regular column. Her initiative impressed him, made him want to know more about how her mind worked.
“Have you written articles before?”
“Yes, I sold some specials toThe Boston Gazette,but it never grew into anything more.”
“I’m not familiar with the publication,but I’ll request a copy of your work. It would be useful to see what you’ve done before.”
Her cheeks flushed a delightful rose. “In that case, you should request articles written by Winston West.”
His brows rose. “You chose to write under a man’s name?”
She met his gaze with a hint of challenge. “It was the only way they would publish my words. One day, my own name will be on my work, but I’m not ashamed of my choice.”
“You don’t need to explain yourself. I admire your ingenuity.”
Her mouth opened and then closed without a word, and he had to resist pumping a fist in the air. For once, he wasn’t the one to lose the ability to speak. Not to mention he’d learned a very intriguing piece of information: compliments made her self-conscious. But the pleasure was short-lived, for he already missed the sound of her voice.
“Has your club had a meeting yet?”
“It’s the Seattle Suffrage Society, and yes. Our first meeting was truly remarkable. I met interesting women and learned so many things about the movement. We made pages and pages of plans, and—” She stopped, sucking in a breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go on so.”
“Not at all.” But as much as he enjoyed listening to her, it put him in a precarious position. The more she shared her passion with him, the harder it would be to work against her. Perhaps he could change the topic to something less passionate, like the weather, or the latest update in the Denny regrade construction project. But the fact was, every topic with her was dangerous. He expelled a breath. “Why don’t we begin? Show me your proposal.”
She flipped her notebook open to the correct page and laid it on the desk in front of him. He angled his head so her hopeful expression wouldn’t distract him and started reading. He schooled his face to conceal his thoughts, but his fingers tapped a disjointed staccato on his thighs beneath the desk.
It was exactly the stuff Horace wanted to get his hands on.
If Mack approved her article, he would be forced to twist her idea into an anti-piece. The jig would be up within the week, she would quit, and her husband would probably punch him in the face.
An idea bloomed to life. Horace had instructed him to approve her ideasandwrite a counter-piece. But what if he never approved any of her ideas? He could hardly be expected to write a counter-piece to something thatdidn’t exist.The solution was clear—he would be cruel to be kind.
“I’m afraid this is not the content we’re looking for.”
Her lips parted. “Those are the club’s goals leading up to the legislative vote in January. Is that not interesting to the public?”
He studied her idea again. Knowing the club’s upcoming agenda would make it all too easy to twist the public’s opinion before the suffragists had a chance to act and prove them wrong. But if he could push her to write about somethingafterit happened, he could use the excuse it was old news and therefore unpublishable.
“Perhaps to you and me, but I’m afraid Mr. McEntire requires something more dramatic to catch the public’s attention.”
She frowned. “Is it not dramatic enough that women must beg men to give them something they should already naturally have?”
He choked on his own saliva, but he quickly turned it into a thoughtful hum. Damnation, he hadn’t been prepared for the sharp—and perfectly valid—question. “Lists of whatcould beis boring. We need narratives of daring acts already committed. Think bigger, Mrs. West.”
“Bigger.” The crease between her eyebrows deepened.
