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“Fine.” Andrea spun on her heel and led him to the newspaper’s conference room.
He was walking too close to her. Andrea’s body wanted to lean into his. She wanted to bury her face in his neck and breathe his citrus and cinnamon scent. She fisted her hands and increased her pace.
As they crossed the newsroom, she was battered by curious stares from the other reporters. Andrea did her best to ignore them. She just wanted to get through this confrontation. It was too bad they were meeting in the cramped, stale-smelling conference room. But she didn’t want him to tear out her heart in a crowded restaurant.
At the doorway, Andrea stepped aside so Troy could precede her into the room. She shut the door. “Let’s have it, Troy. I’ve been preparing for this conversation all weekend.”
“I doubt that.” He rested his hips against the edge of the conference table. His hands gripped the scarred wood on either side of him. “You did a great job with the story on Barron.”
Andrea blinked. Was she imagining his compliment? She moved farther into the room to put space between them. “You liked the story?”
Troy shifted on the table to face her. “So did Jackie. If you’d returned any one of my messages, I’d have told you.”
They weren’t going to have a confrontation. Relief eased her strained muscles. But then regret made its presence known. “Thanks for coming by to tell me.” Why hadn’t he sent her an e-mail? Andrea started toward the door.
Troy’s brows knitted in confusion. “Everything’s OK. The article didn’t hurt the team.”
Andrea paused with her hand on the doorknob. Disappointment was a bitter taste in her mouth. “I told you it wouldn’t.”
“You were right. It showed Barron in a positive light, and it was an encouraging story.”
Was it her imagination or was Troy tripping over himself to praise her work? “I want the story to inspire other people who’re struggling with fears or negative feelings to get help.”
“Your story will do that.”
Was that pride in his voice? Was he actually proud of her article? Andrea gave him a hard stare. Could she trust that his new attitude toward her work was permanent and not a temporary aberration?
Andrea released the doorknob and crossed the room. She needed the space between them. “If I can help even one person with this story, I’ll b
e satisfied. Barron would be, too.”
“I’m sure you’ll help a lot of people.” Troy stood from the table. His arms hung loosely at his sides.
“Are we OK, you and I?”
It was tempting to pretend not to understand his question, but Andrea didn’t want to prolong this pain. Every minute in his company weakened her resolve. But she had to do what was best for her in the long term.
Andrea stood in front of the stack of old and dusty storage boxes. She gathered her courage and a breath, inhaling the musty stench of the files behind her. “No, Troy. We’re not OK.”
Pain flashed in his eyes. “Why not?”
The emotions flickering over his features tore at her heart. Would these cuts now protect her from heartbreak later? “I told you I wasn’t writing a negative article about Barron.”
“And I told you I realized you were right.”
“Why didn’t you trust me before the article was printed?”
Troy smoothed his goatee. “I have trouble completely trusting the press.”
Andrea wouldn’t let him get away with that one. “I can’t imagine you asking Jenna, Fred, or even Sean to review their articles before publication. Why am I different?”
“Because you mean more.” His voice was strained.
Unfair! “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Troy spread his arms. “I wasn’t in a relationship with Jenna, Fred, or Sean. But with you, if things had turned out differently, it would have hurt more.”
“Because we were in a relationship, you should have trusted me.”
