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She glanced at the crossword as he wrote in another word. Almost all the squares were filled in. With pen.
She might have been the only woman in the world who thought that was pretty hot.
“You use a pen, huh?” she asked.
“I guess so.”
“Gramps always says you can tell a lot about a person who uses a pen for a crossword puzzle.” Brooke shifted the books to her other arm. “It says that you’re confident and unafraid of making a mistake, but also that you believe there’s only one path or direction to take. As far as you’re concerned, there’s one answer to every problem or question. No possibility of two or more.”
“Actually, the pen just happened to be in my pocket.”
“Ah. Your instrument of choice was close at hand. As Destiny would say, that was no coincidence.” She tilted her chin at the crossword. “Is thatThe New York Times?”
He nodded and tossed the paper onto a side table. “You do crosswords?”
“No, but I recognizeThe Times. Not in the best way, of course.”
“Why’s that?”
Surprised, she met his gaze. “You don’t know about my stint atThe New York Times?”
“Should I?”
“Everyone else knows. I assumed you’d have heard the gossip at some point or another.”
“What gossip?”
Old regret shot through her. If she didn’t tell him, he’d find out the truth sooner or later. And for some reason, she didn’t want Sam to hear the real story from anyone but her.
“It’s embarrassing,” she said.
He frowned. “What happened?”
“I was supposed to be Bliss Cove’s next award-winning journalist.” She blew her breath upward, stirring tendrils of hair at her forehead. “I was always interested in journalism because I had this amazing, award-winning grandfather who was out covering stories on everything from natural disasters to governmental coups. But I don’t think I really knew I wanted to be a reporter until Charlie took overThe Gazette.”
“When was that?”
“I was sixteen, so almost fifteen years ago. He’d moved back because my Grandma Ruth had been diagnosed with cancer, and they wanted to be closer to family.”
Deflecting a pang of sorrow, she put the romance novels on the table and picked up another box of animal crackers and the bottle of tea. “The Gazettewas in pretty bad shape back then. Charlie bought it and turned it around. For a while, I worked for him as a go-fer getting coffee and making copies, but he wanted me to write for the high-school paper to get my feet wet before he’d consider hiring me as a reporter. So I became staff reporter forTheBliss Cove High Tribune. I covered a lot of stories about athletics, student government, that kind of thing.”
She sat on the easy chair and opened the box. “In my junior year, I uncovered a story about ballot-stuffing for the homecoming court. The expose led to an overhaul of the homecoming vote system. The story didn’t win me any favors with some of the popular kids, but I got a lot of support from most of my fellow students. And, of course, my grandfather. He was very proud. I worked forThe Gazettethroughout my senior year. Charlie wrote my letter of recommendations for my college applications.”
Sam was watching her with a strange intensity, as if he were deciphering emotions she didn’t even know she was revealing.
“Where did you go to college?” he asked.
“UW-Madison for my BA in journalism. I wrote for the university paper, freelanced, and continued reporting forThe Gazettewhenever I came back for a visit.” She held out the cracker box to him. “For years, people in Bliss Cove had been talking about how I was the next Bob Woodward or Katherine Graham. I worked for a couple of different papers after graduating, butThe New York Timeswas the holy grail.”
“And you found it.” He took a cracker and studied the animal before eating it.
“To my shock.” Brooke shook her head, recalling the utter thrill of her accomplishment. “Everyone was so excited when I got the job withThe New York Times. It was like a hometown girl starring on Broadway or winning an Oscar. The day before I moved to New York, the entire town threw a party for me. Everyone was there. Eleanor at Sugar Joy baked a gigantic cake decorated like a newspaper. We made newspaper party hats, and Grant from the Mousehole served fish and chips wrapped in newsprint. It was crazy, over-the-top, and wonderful all at the same time. That was my send-off to the big city.”
“Sounds like everyone had high expectations.”
“Yes.” She took a sip of iced tea. “Unfortunately, I didn’t meet those expectations. I worked atThe Timesfor three years. I loved the big stories, but the pressure was brutal. New York City was also a tough place to live for a girl who’d grown up in Bliss Cove.
“Like so many of the other reporters, I was living on caffeine and adrenaline. To stay competitive, you had to take whatever story they threw at you, so I was constantly driving or flying to different cities to cover a political rally or a congressional hearing. I knew I was doing important work, but I was also meeting some nasty people and fending off bribery attempts, threats, harassment, you name it.”
