Love Locks. Cory Martin

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СКАЧАТЬ toast?” Trent responded. They both laughed. It was a moment Lindsey hadn’t had in a while. She imagined suggesting to him that they meet for breakfast sometime, or dinner… but no. He wasn’t here for romance.

      “I can’t believe you’re old enough to have a daughter old enough to be in college,” Trent said.

      “Well, I am old enough to know when someone’s buttering me up,” Lindsey quipped.

      “All right, here it is. I’d like to take you out.”

      Lindsey paused. Her thoughts of dating him were just fantasy, the kind people had about George Clooney or Brad Pitt. The what-if thoughts that are never supposed to come true. “Oh,” she said.

      “And I’d like to buy your magazine.”

      Now things were starting to make a little more sense. This wasn’t really about her—it was about her business.

      “Oh,” she said again.

      Trent looked perplexed. “Is that a yes/yes, no/yes, or yes/no?”

      Lindsey paused. Now she was the one confused. “Yes. And no. I don’t know.”

      Trent smiled and straightened his tie. “You’ve done an incredible job with POV. It’s unique and you’ve done it yourself on a limited budget. I’ve been watching you for a while now.”

      “You have?” She knew he knew her name, but other than that, it was odd that he’d done his research. She understood now what was happening. Him asking her out wasn’t about her single status, it was about her magazine’s status. “I’m flattered.”

      “You should be. You’ve done amazing things with POV. But here’s the thing—your readership’s maxed out.”

      Now Lindsey could feel herself getting defensive. She had poured everything into POV. Though she’d wanted more kids, things hadn’t worked out that way, and her magazine had become her second child. When she and Dane had divorced three years into their marriage, she’d quit painting altogether. At that point, it had become a luxury. It was no longer a passion that she hoped would turn into a career. Hope didn’t pay the bills, and neither did her art.

      Lindsey had gone to work consulting for galleries around New York City. When Alexa was in second grade, Lindsey had started POV out of the small Queens apartment she’d been able to afford with her consulting work and the alimony Dane paid. Year after year, the magazine had grown, and by the time Alexa entered high school, Lindsey was able to afford a staff and offices in a prime high-rise.

      Yes, their readership was still too low, but she had plans to grow it. She didn’t want to sell the magazine now.

      “We’re doing fine with the readers we have,” Lindsey said.

      “True. But you could be doing better. I can help you take POV to the next level.”

      Lindsey had been in business long enough to know that when someone wanted to help you take things to the next level, it almost always meant something else. He wasn’t there to give her guidance and help.

      “You want to buy me out?”

      “You’ll stay on to consult,” Trent said with a smile, as if he’d just offered her the keys to the kingdom.

      “So I’d be working for you then.”

      “No, you’d be working with me.” Trent moved a little closer. “That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

      “The thing is, I’m pretty used to being my own boss,” Lindsey said. This was true. She hadn’t worked for anyone else in over ten years. The thought of working under someone, even if he was one of the hottest guys in publishing, sounded like instant death to her. She’d already given up once on her dreams. She wasn’t about to give this up, too.

      “Believe me, I get that. When I opened my first publishing house, the last thing on my mind was selling it. But I did. And I ended up building a bigger one,” Trent said.

      He had a point. But still, she wasn’t ready to let go so quickly.

      “Just think about it while you’re away,” he said. “And the other ‘it,’ too. I really would like to take you out.”

      “I will. And I will,” Lindsey replied, more confused than ever.

      Trent’s phone rang. He hit ignore then turned to her. “Almost forgot, I’m in London next week. It’s a short flight to Paris. I could show you our offices there.”

      “You must really want this magazine.”

      “That, too,” he replied as he picked up his phone and dialed the last caller. “See you soon,” he said as he left her office.

      Lindsey stood in silence and watched as Trent disappeared around the corner. What had just happened?

      “Tell me he’s not the best-looking guy you’ve ever seen,” Maggie said as she walked into the doorway and caught the tail end of Trent leaving.

      “I wish I could,” Lindsey said, deadpan.

      Maggie turned to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

      “He wants to buy the magazine.” Saying those words out loud suddenly made the whole exchange seem hyper-real.

      “Seriously?” Maggie asked. Lindsey nodded. “What did you say?”

      “I wanted to say ‘no,’ but somehow, I didn’t. I’m not even sure what I said.”

      “I’m pretty sure he has that effect on everyone,” Maggie said. They both smiled because it was true. For a moment, they were silent, and then Maggie asked, “Would it be so bad to sell? I’m leaving in a few months anyway.” She’d gotten an offer to be an editor at a magazine based in Los Angeles, and Lindsey had understood why she couldn’t refuse. While Maggie loved New York, she also loved the water and the lack of seasons on the West Coast.

      “That’s exactly why I can’t sell. You’re leaving. My daughter’s leaving. I’m not giving up my business, too.” The reality of the situation hit Lindsey hard. What would she do without POV? She’d have nothing.

      “Are you sure you don’t want to sell? He is soooo good-looking. Getting to stare at him every day might be worth it.”

      Lindsey laughed at Maggie’s comment.

      “I thought that might get you,” Maggie said.

      Lindsey smiled, then realized she didn’t have to figure everything out in that moment. “C’mon, let’s finish the layout. We have to get the February issue out today.” Together, Lindsey and Maggie walked over to one of the designer’s desks. The interior design of one of the pages was pulled up on the screen.

      A painting with white titles over it was on the left side of the page. “Increase the opacity so we can see the titles better, move the Gaucher to center, and make it five by seven so it almost touches the borders,” Lindsey said. The graphic artist made the changes with a few clicks on her keyboard. “Perfect,” Lindsey said. “Send the final СКАЧАТЬ