Starry Night (18 page)

Although she recognized that it would do little good to argue with him, she made the effort. “What about the toaster?” she whispered, hardly able to speak because of the tightness in her throat. She might be able to believe him if she didn’t know about the significance of the toaster. It meant far more to him than an antique. It’d been his way of telling her she was important to him. As important to him as his mother had been to his father.

“Ah, yes, the toaster. That was a rather brilliant move on
my part. I didn’t know yet if you’d take my request seriously. I needed to do something that would have an effect on you, and I figured you’d ask my mother about it.”

Her knees suddenly felt like they were about to collapse on her. She needed to sit down, and quickly.

Finn started for the door, briefly hesitated, and turned the knob.

“Take the Christmas present with you,” she called after him, anger coming to rescue her pride in those final seconds.

“Keep it,” he said on his way out the door, as if it meant nothing.

As if she meant nothing.

Chapter Thirteen

Carrie didn’t even bother to go to bed that night or the next, sleeping in fits and starts, a few minutes at a time. She sat up on her sofa with a quilt her mother had lovingly crafted for her while she was in college. With its thick warmth wrapped around her shoulders, she tried to digest what had happened between her and Finn, and what would happen next—if anything. Try as she might, she couldn’t make herself believe that the things he said had even the smallest semblance of truth.

At seven Monday morning she tossed aside the quilt, and although she was bone tired, she readied for work. Staring at her reflection, Carrie did her best to disguise the dark circles beneath her eyes, but with little success.

Sophie, who usually rushed into the office five minutes late, was already at her cubicle when Carrie arrived at her
normal time. Her friend had left several messages, but Carrie hadn’t answered her phone or responded to text messages.

Sophie didn’t wait for Carrie to remove her hat and coat before she pounced on her, seeking information.

“What happened Saturday night after Bruce and I left?” she demanded. “Why didn’t you answer any of my phone messages or texts?”

Carrie stared back blankly.

Sophie lowered her voice. “I feel terrible that Finn heard the things I said.”

Fearing that if she said one word she would give in to the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her, Carrie simply shook her head.

“You have to tell me,” Sophie pleaded. “Me and my big mouth. I’ll never forgive myself. How could I be so stupid?”

Carrie swallowed against the tightening knot in her throat and gave an offhand shrug. “Apparently, you were right.”

“Right?” Sophie’s jaw dropped several inches. “Right about what?”

Bending over to turn on her computer, Carrie did her best to sound nonchalant and disengaged. “You might as well say ‘I told you so.’ Finn and I are over.”

Sophie’s look of disbelief slowly evolved into a frown. “You’re kidding, right?”

How Carrie wished she was. In answer, she shook her head. “Finn wanted to end it; he basically said the same thing you did, that we could never make it work, blah, blah, blah.”

“Finn said that and you believed him? Listen, Carrie, I was wrong. Before I left I saw the way he looked at you. If a man ever looked at me like that, I’d be willing to give up chocolate and bear his children.”

With all her heart, Carrie wanted to believe that was true, but she wasn’t sure it even mattered. Finn was gone. Nevertheless, she was hanging on to that slender thread called hope, only in her case it was ragged hope.

Sophie pulled out a chair and sat down. “Anyone with two functioning brain cells could see he’s nuts over you.”

“I’d like to believe you, I really would, but he left shortly after you did, and I haven’t heard from him since. Frankly I doubt that I will.”

Sophie stiffened. “Fine, then write that article. He can’t treat you like that.”

Why was it everything went back to that stupid article?

“You’re going to do it, aren’t you? You’d be a fool not to.”

Carrie didn’t need to think about it. Undoubtedly, it was what Finn expected of her. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Instead, she reached for her mouse and clicked on an email.

“You’ve got to write it,” Sophie insisted.

“No, I don’t.”

“Are you off your rocker?” Sophie stood and did a complete three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turn. “Someone call a medic; Carrie’s losing her mind.”

Carrie stopped her friend from making fools of them both. “Don’t you understand that’s exactly what Finn expects me to do?”

“Then give him what he wants,” Sophie suggested. “That way you can both have what you want. Don’t be an idiot, Carrie. This opportunity is one that comes along once or maybe twice in a career. This is your chance to prove yourself to Nash.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because Finn loves me.” It was the only scenario that made sense to Carrie. He had vehemently denied it, but Carrie refused to accept that. For two nights she’d mulled over his words, and ultimately she chose not to believe them. She couldn’t feel the things she did if it’d all been a lie.

“Where is Finn now?” Sophie asked. “Let me talk some sense into him.”

“Sophie—” Carrie really didn’t feel like discussing this now.

“Is he still in Chicago?” Sophie asked, cutting her off.

Carrie shook her head. “He’s gone.”

“Back to Alaska?”

Carrie didn’t know, and so she shrugged. It didn’t matter. She was confident that no matter where he was, Alaska or Timbuktu, he was as miserable as she.

“What happens now?” Sophie asked, showing signs of sympathy. “This is dreadful, just dreadful. I don’t think I can bear it.”

Again, Carrie answered with a lift of her shoulders. “I’ve spent the better part of the last two days and nights going over a variety of scenarios. I have to believe Finn will have a change of heart.”

“You mean he’ll come back for you?”

“No … he won’t do that.” That wouldn’t be his way.

“I don’t understand,” Sophie said, speaking softly now.

“He’s going to regret the lie that he doesn’t care, doesn’t love me, and so he’ll make it up to me the only way he can.”

“And how’s that?”

“He’ll ask me to be the one to break the story on him.”

“Of course.” Sophie vaulted to her feet and clapped her hands. “Of course. It’s brilliant. And you’ll do it, and then …”

“No.”

Sophie froze. “No?”

“No,” Carrie repeated. “I’m going to refuse.”

“Stop.” Sophie planted her hands on top of her head. “This is like a chess game, and I’m losing track of the moves. If he wants you to write the piece, then why won’t you do it?”

“Because if I refuse it will force his hand.”

Sophie scratched the side of her head as though puzzled. “I don’t follow.”

“Finn wants me to publish something about him because it will salve his conscience. It’s the one way he has of apologizing, of letting me know he loves me. But I won’t do it, because it’s the only way I can think to let him know I love him. It’s the one thing I can do to tell him my feelings haven’t changed.”

Sophie sat back in the chair. “You’re losing me, girlfriend.”

It was a gamble for sure, Carrie realized. And until she got word from Finn, she would need to keep silent. There was a chance, of course, that she was completely wrong and she would never hear from him again. For now, it was a waiting game.

The first week of December passed. Long, torturous days in which there was complete silence from Finn. Somehow Carrie got through her and Sophie’s little Christmas gathering. She managed to smile and even laugh now and again. It was a great party, everyone said, and Carrie was grateful she was able to pull it off. The only person who seemed to notice that Carrie’s spirits were low was Sophie.

“I’m having a hard time dealing with this guilt,” her
friend confessed. “I feel like I’m to blame. I look at you and I want to cry. You’re so miserable, and it’s all my fault.”

Carrie did her best to reassure her friend. “Don’t worry. These matters have a way of working out how they’re meant to be.” While she might have sounded confident, Carrie was anything but.

Another week of silence followed. Carrie lost weight. Sleep felt like a luxury.

On Friday a few days before Christmas, just before quitting time, the office threw a small party. Carrie was scheduled to fly back to Seattle in the morning, to be with her family, and she was getting ready to head home to pack when she got word that Nash wanted to speak to her in his office.

She knocked against his door and stepped inside. Without looking away from his computer screen, he motioned for her to take a seat.

Carrie complied.

“I just got off the phone with some New York publicity woman,” he said, frowning at her as if seeing her for the first time. “How is it that you know Finn Dalton?”

“Who says I know Finn?” she parried with a question of her own.

“You said you were determined to find him, as I recall.”

“So I did.” She folded her hands in her lap, afraid the trembling would give her away.

“Well, congratulations. It seems you looked under the right rock, because this PR person called to tell me Finn Dalton is ready to let someone interview him. The surprising part is that he requested you, and he claims you already know everything there is to know. He’s requested you write the piece.”

Carrie’s eyes drifted shut. This was exactly the news she’d been waiting to hear. She’d been right. Finn had offered her the assignment. A sense of release and joy rushed through her. He was as much as telling her that he loved her. She pressed her hand to her mouth, fearing she was about to break into sobs.

“I can see you’re pleased. I’d be crying with joy, too. I don’t know what you did, but congratulations. This is one of the biggest coups this newspaper has had in a long time. How soon can you write the piece? If possible, I’d like to have it for the weekend edition.”

“Sorry, Nash, Mr. Dalton’s publisher is going to need to find someone else.”

“What?” Nash nearly came out of his chair. “Is this a joke? If so, I’m not laughing.”

Now wasn’t the time to back down. Carrie had to remain strong. As badly as she ached to give in, she couldn’t do it. “I hate to disappoint you, but you’ll need to find someone else.”

Nash shook his head. “The publisher insists you have to be the one. No one else.”

It was exactly as she’d calculated. “Sorry.” She blinked back tears.

The hard-core newsman glared at her. “Your job is on the line, Ms. Slayton. This newspaper can’t afford to let this opportunity slip by. I’m giving you twenty-four hours to change your mind.”

Losing her job was an aspect of this decision that she hadn’t considered. Carrie swallowed hard and bit into her lower lip. “It won’t matter if it’s twenty-four hours or twenty-four days. I’m not going to change my mind.”

Disgusted, Nash shook his head.

“I’m leaving in the morning for Seattle to see my family.” It seemed her Christmas break would now be spent seeking another job. It was a steep price to pay to prove her love to Finn, but she wouldn’t back down.

“Go have Christmas with your family,” Nash said, motioning for her to leave his office. “But take this time to think about what I said. I’m serious, Carrie. Write the article and keep your job. Otherwise, you can clear out your desk when you return.”

“And if I write the article, what about your promise to me?”

“What promise?”

“Any assignment I want, any department.” He hadn’t said it quite like that; still, it wouldn’t do any harm to press her point.

Nash hesitated and then sighed. “It’s negotiable.”

Sophie was waiting for her at Carrie’s desk when she returned. Her friend had glittery silver tinsel wrapped around her neck like a Hawaiian lei. “So, what did Nash want?”

When she told her about the call from the New York publicist, Sophie leaped up and gave a loud cheer. “This is exactly what you said would happen.”

“This is the way I
hoped
it would play out.”

“So?” Sophie said eagerly, shifting her arms back and forth, “what’s the next move?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? I thought you had this all planned out.”

How Carrie wished that were true. She knew what she had to do, but the rest was up to Finn.

The next day Carrie sat at the O’Hare Airport gate, waiting to board her flight to Seattle, when her cell chirped. She didn’t recognize the number but saw that it was an Alaska prefix.

“Hello,” she answered hesitatingly.

“Carrie, this is Sawyer O’Halloran.”

“Sawyer?” She couldn’t imagine why he would be calling her, unless something had happened to Finn. She gripped hold of the phone with both hands, instantly alarmed. “Is everything all right? Has Finn been hurt?”

“Yes … He isn’t in the hospital or anything, if that’s what you’re wondering. What happened between the two of you, anyway?”

Carrie relaxed a bit. “You’ll need to ask him about that.”