Beach Lane

“Did you have something specific in mind?” he asked, sitting back down, his expression curious.

This was exactly why he should have talked to her the minute he was fired, she thought. Mack plodded through lists of pros and cons. She was quicker and much more creative, especially, it seemed, when it came to holding on to someone she didn’t want leaving her world.

Thinking on her feet, she said, “You could blog about sports on a national scale. That’s the big trend these days, isn’t it? Everything’s going on the internet. You have the experience and reputation. You’d have a built-in following.”

Though he looked intrigued, he shook his head. “I don’t see how it could bring in much money.”

“Build up a subscriber base, paid or unpaid,” she said, thinking off the top of her head. This might not be her usual area of expertise, but since Mack was in journalism, she’d been paying attention to the field recently. “The point would be to get hits. You get enough hits, you can find advertisers. Who knows, maybe you’d even be picked up by newspapers in syndication or something. I don’t know. It just seems like it could work. The internet is the future, isn’t it?”

“So my boss told me as he was kicking me out the door,” Mack said wryly. “Any other ideas?”

Her expression turned thoughtful. “Well, speaking as someone who wants to get real estate listings in front of a targeted local audience, what about starting a weekly newspaper right here? I know that seems counterintuitive, since newspapers are dying, but I think the local ones will continue to be in demand, if only as a vehicle for advertising.”

“I’m a sports columnist, not a publisher,” Mack argued. “Or even an editor. I haven’t had to worry about getting a paper out on time since college.”

“Have you forgotten everything you knew back then?” she asked.

“No, but…”

She frowned at his negative attitude. “These are just ideas, Mack. Don’t dismiss them out of hand or make excuses for why they won’t work. Think about the independence you’d have with your own blog. Or imagine how exciting it could be to start something brand-new, something that’s needed in this community. You could shape it into the kind of newspaper you always dreamed of working for.”

Mack continued to look skeptical. “I don’t know,” he murmured.

“Just think about it,” Susie ordered. “That’s my contribution for now,” she said. “I have an appointment. Go home and do what you do best, ponder. I’m not saying these two ideas are the only possibilities, but even you have to admit they’re interesting options. And either one is better than packing up and leaving your home.”

“True,” he conceded. “I knew there was a reason I came by here today.”

She gave him a chiding look. “You came by here to apologize for leaving me out of the loop,” she corrected. “Now that you’ve seen what a help I can be, next time maybe you won’t be so reluctant to talk to me.”

Mack grinned at her. “Of course, if I follow your advice and take on either of these challenges, I’ll be my own boss, and there won’t even be a next time.”

“Mack, there will always be a next time when you’ll need to make a choice about either trusting me or keeping something to yourself,” she said. “If this incident is an indication of some pattern, I’ll tell you now that I won’t stand for it.”

She was relieved to see that her comment actually seemed to shake him a bit.

She stood up, planted a kiss on his cheek, then walked out of the office. “Lock up when you leave,” she called back over her shoulder, not bothering to wait for him.

The man had a lot of thinking to do, and they both knew he’d do it best without her hovering over him.

She’d hover tomorrow. Or the next day. And probably for days after that.

Mack was too restless to sit around in his apartment. Over the past few years he’d gotten used to spending his evenings with Susie. Now that the truth was out and she understood his situation, there was no reason for that habit not to resume.

Okay, there was one reason. Things were obviously changing between them, and the timing for that still sucked, but he couldn’t seem to keep himself from walking over to her apartment around dinnertime. He needed a booster shot of her eternal optimism.

When she opened her door, he shoved his hands into his pockets and inquired casually, “Have you eaten yet?”

Her expression brightened. “You’ve seen my refrigerator. What do you think?”

Relief spread through him. Things weren’t going to be awkward between them, after all. Thank goodness for that. “Italian? Chinese? French?”

“Pizza?” she asked hopefully.

He shook his head. “Between you, Will and Jake, that’s my primary food group these days.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Not really, but I’d wanted to take you someplace a little fancier. How about Brady’s instead?”

She shook her head at once. “No way.”

He studied her with a narrowed gaze. “You don’t need to be worrying about the expense, Susie. I’m not destitute yet.”

“It’s not that,” she insisted. “We never go to Brady’s, except to the bar from time to time. It’s one of those places that people reserve for special occasions.”

“Maybe tonight’s a special occasion,” he said, suddenly determined to go to Brady’s for reasons that had more to do with pride than any real desire for an excellent crabcake.

“What are we celebrating?” she asked, looking suspicious. “You haven’t found some new job in Alaska or someplace else halfway across the world, have you? Are you going to stuff me with crabmeat and fine wine, then break the bad news to me?”

“Hardly. I thought we could celebrate getting past what happened.”

“If we start celebrating every time we move on after a disagreement, you’ll go broke.”

“A risk I’m willing to take. Now, are you really going to argue with me about going to the best restaurant in town?”

She held his gaze, then finally shook her head. “Not if it means so much to you.”

“Thank you,” he said solemnly. “That was easier than I’d expected.”

“Are you implying that I’m difficult?” she demanded, immediately irritated all over again.

He grinned. “You are,” he said without hesitation. “But it keeps things interesting. I’ve always been fond of a challenge.”

“I should think you have enough challenges on your plate right now without deliberately turning me into one.”

“I’m not responsible for your being a challenge. You just are.”

“Then I’m surprised you want to have dinner with me at all,” she said testily.

Mack laughed. “Come on, Susie. Let’s go before you work yourself up into a bad case of indigestion without having the first bite of food.”

She frowned but went with him. “I have no idea why I bother with you,” she muttered as she walked down the steps to the alley where his car was parked.

“Because I’m charming and sexy,” he suggested.

“No, those are the reasons I should steer clear of you,” she countered.

“Then it must be because I make you laugh.”