She opened the door.
He sat at his desk, looking tired. His long hair was a mess, as if he'd been running his fingers through it constantly, shoving it back from his face. Dozens of newspapers covered his desk, so many that even the phone was hidden. "Mularkey," he said, sighing. "Shit. I forgot you started today."
Kate wanted to make a joke about it, but her voice wouldn't cooperate. She was so keenly aware of him, it was vaguely disturbing that he hadn't even known she was here.
"Come on in. What do you have there?"
"Lunch. I thought you might be hungry."
"You bought me lunch?"
"Was that wrong? I'm sorry, I—"
"Sit down." He pointed at the chair opposite his desk. "I appreciate it, really. I can't remember the last time I ate."
She moved to the desk, began unpacking their lunch. All the while she felt him watching her, those flame-blue eyes of his intently staring. It made her so nervous she almost spilled the chowder.
"Hot soup," he said, his voice low now, intimate. "So you're one of those."
She sat down, looking at him, unable not to. "One of those?"
"A caretaker." He picked up the spoon. "Let me guess: You grew up in a happy family. Two kids and a dog. No divorce."
She laughed. "Guilty. How about you?"
"No dog. Not so happy."
"Oh." She tried to think of something else to say. "Are you married?" popped out before she could stop it.
"Nope. Never. You?"
She smiled. "No."
"Good for you. This is a job that takes focus."
Kate felt like an imposter. Here she was, sitting across from her boss, trying to focus on saying something that would make him admire her, and she couldn't even make eye contact. It was crazy. He wasn'tthatgood-looking. Something about him just hit her so damn hard she couldn't think straight. Finally she said, "You think they'll come up with a good story at Microsoft?"
"Israel invaded Lebanon yesterday. Did you know that? They've driven the Palestinians back to Beirut. That's the real story. And we're in the shit-ass office, dicking around with soft news." He sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just having a bad day. And it's your first." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "And you bought me soup. Tomorrow I'll play nice, I promise."
"Tully told me you used to be a war correspondent."
"Yeah."
"I guess you loved that, huh?"
She saw something flash through his eyes then; her first instinct would have been to label it sadness, but how could she know? "It was insane."
"How come you quit?"
"You're too young to understand."
"I'm not that much younger than you. Try me."
He sighed. "Sometimes life kicks the shit out of you; that's all. It's like the Stones said: You can't always get what you want."
"The song says something about getting what you need instead."
He looked at her then, and for a split second, she knew she'd gotten his attention. "Did you find enough to keep yourself busy this morning?"
