Beyond Business: Falling for the Boss / Her Best-Kept Secret / Mergers & Matrimony

“Yes, fine,” she said. “I was just thinking about work.”

“This ought to change that.” He put the quarter in and hesitated for just a fraction of a second before pressing C and 7 at the same time. “Get you thinking about math homework instead,” he added with a small laugh.

The sound of an old Platters song drifted out of the small, tinny speakers. Meredith knew it because it had been one of her grandfather’s favorites.

Evan had known that once. Was it too presumptuous to think that was why he’d chosen it this time?

“You’re not the only one with a memory,” he said, as if in answer to her unspoken question.

“What do you mean?” she asked. Where Evan was concerned, her rule was going to be Assume Nothing.

He gestured toward the jukebox. “You picked this song about a million times.”

She repositioned herself, hoping her straightened posture would pass for a lack of sentimentality. “That’s funny, I don’t really remember that.”

“Yes, you do.”

“What?”

He cocked his head and said, “We have a past, Meredith. There’s no getting around it, no matter how much you might want to. We can’t pretend we don’t know each other.”

“We don’t,” she said, too quickly. She sounded defensive. She was defensive.

She was going to have to get some perspective.

He shrugged and fiddled with a sugar pack from the little container on the table. “We did once.”

“What did we have, Evan?” She looked him squarely in the eye, even though it made her feel weak inside. “Obviously, it wasn’t that close, or that special, because you up and left it without so much as an adiós”

“That wasn’t because of you, Meredith.”

If she’d been successful at pretending nonchalance at all, she lost it then. “I didn’t know what it was about.”

“It was just … me. My own stuff. I’m sorry if it hurt you.”

That was it? After all these years, that was what she got in the way of retribution? I’m sorry if it hurt you.

Like there was some possibility that it hadn’t.

Like maybe she hadn’t even noticed, at seventeen, that the boy she adored more than anything on earth—the guy she was sure she was going to spend the rest of her life with—had just disappeared into the night. Lord, she’d been so sure—so wrong, but so darn sure—about his feelings for her that for the first six months she had continued to insist that something must have happened to Evan.

Imagined him wounded somewhere, needing help…. Thoughts had plagued her, night and day. She couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t focus.

And now he was sorry if he’d hurt her?

“It wasn’t just about you,” she said quietly, holding her outrage and disbelief deep inside.

“What do you mean?”

If he didn’t know, she didn’t want to have to explain it to him. It was all such old news now, anyway—how could she talk about it without sounding like a desperate loser who had been stuck in the past for all this time?

How could she explain what it was like for her—the girl who had trusted, and given of herself, and who thought if there was one thing in the world she could count on it was Evan Hanson—to find out that everything she’d thought was real for two and a half years was just an illusion? And even that revelation had come only after she’d gone through the undue stress of fearing the worst.

It sounded small to the disinterested audience, yet to Meredith it had been a life-shaping experience.

“What I mean is, we need to keep this about business,” she clarified. “Whatever we had was over a long time ago. And opening old wounds isn’t going to achieve anything positive or productive for either one of us.”

“Right.”

She went on, “Like I said, we don’t know each other anymore, and if we move forward acting like we do, based on ancient information, it’s just counterproductive.”

He hesitated, studying her, then said, “Okay, then. Business, not personal. Got it.” He pushed the menu aside. “I already know what I want, how about you?”

She knew she wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, so she pushed her menu to the end of the booth with his. “I’ll just get a cheeseburger.”

“Medium well, cheddar cheese, no raw onions, right?” Evan didn’t smile, but he may as well have. His eyes clearly showed that he had won a point.

And her heart conceded that point privately. Though she wouldn’t have wanted to admit it to Evan—or anyone else, for that matter—she hadn’t changed so much since she was a teenager. Basically Meredith Waters had always been the same person—she had simple tastes, a good work ethic and she could be counted upon to take the slow-but-steady route.

The only real difference, and it had come courtesy of Evan himself, was that now she had a very cautious heart.

Meredith Waters was determined to never fall in love again.

Chapter Four

“You’re consistent,” Evan said to her, having predicted her order. “That’s a good thing.”

“You’re right.” She looked at him evenly. “It’s a quality I’ve really grown to appreciate in people.”

He paused, then said, “But you don’t mean that personally, right?”

“Right. It was just a general comment.” She didn’t sound convincing, even to her own ears, so when the waitress appeared to take their orders, she was glad for the interruption.

As soon as the woman turned away, Meredith tried to put the conversation back on track, or at least get it off the track it was on. “So let’s talk about your plans for Hanson Broadcasting. I understand you’re planning to change the format to all talk?”

There was a moment’s hesitation before he followed her into that line of conversation. “It’s hard to do anything unique in music radio these days, but with talk we can corner the market if we get or develop popular talents.”

“But there’s a lot of danger in that, too,” Meredith pointed out, comfortable to be back on less intimate turf. This she could talk to him about. This she could talk to anyone about. “As soon as I heard you wanted to switch to talk, I did some research. Almost every radio network that’s succeeded with talk has done so with shock jocks.” She hesitated, waiting for him to interject, but he just nodded, so she continued, “And though there’s reward potential, the risks tend to be high. Too high.” Especially given her current job description, though she didn’t add that. It would be awfully hard for her to do a good job if she was trying to put out obscenity fires all the time instead of gathering pertinent information about Hanson Media Group.

“What risks are you referring to?” Evan asked.

She chose her words carefully. “A lot of these DJs have trouble toeing the line. They want to be outrageous so people talk about them and listen to them.”

Evan shrugged. “If we want ratings we need people who are willing to push the envelope.”

Meredith frowned. It sounded as if things she thought were dangers were assets to him. “Which envelope are you planning on pushing and exactly who do you have in mind for the job?”

He tapped his fingertips on the gray-and-white tabletop. “Envelopes, any. I don’t care. Who do I have in mind? Several people. I already secured the Sports Addicts, Bill Brandy-wine and Zulo Gillette. But the biggest coup is that I’ve already talked to Lenny Doss about coming here for the morning-drive hours. I think I can get him onboard.”