Texas Magic. Nancy Thompson Robards

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      Chapter Three

      Drew’s distraction at work was a testament to how much Caroline had gotten to him. Apparently, his attention deficit was also obvious to his coworkers.

      On Thursday morning, Bia knocked on his door and stuck her head inside his office. “What’s up, Drew?”

      “Business as usual,” he said, not looking up from his computer.

      “Got a minute?”

      “Umm...” He finished what he was doing on the computer before he glanced up. “Sure. Come on in.”

      Bia shut the office door. Tucking one leg underneath her, she settled herself on a chair across from his desk.

      “How late were you here last night?” she asked.

      “I left around two.” He continued typing as he talked so not to waste time.

      She gasped. “Two in the morning?”

      “No, I left at two yesterday afternoon.” He looked up at her and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Of course two in the morning.”

      “All right, grouchy. Obviously someone needs a nap.”

      He had not meant to bite her head off. It was already four-thirty. He’d hoped to put this week’s edition to bed by five, but thanks to some glitches, he was running behind. “Sorry, B, I’m just trying to finish up here. Didn’t mean to snap at you.”

      Bia nodded. “Something else besides this week’s edition is on your mind. I can tell. Want to talk about it?”

      She was perceptive, that was for sure. It was a quality that made her a great reporter and an even better editor. But he really did not want her digging in his personal life.

      “What makes you think I have something other than work on my mind?”

      She quirked a brow at him. “Maybe the way you seem to be in an extra big hurry to get the paper out this week.”

      “What’s wrong with that?” he asked.

      “Who said there was anything wrong with it? It’s just out of character for you.”

      Drew tried to keep his face neutral. When Bia got a whiff that she was onto something, she read all the signs and signals until she had enough to substantiate her hunch.

      “Do you have a date tonight?” she asked.

      Drew looked away and started working on his computer again. Probably the wrong move—

      “You do. You have a date! Who is she, Drew?”

      Oh, hell. He really didn’t want to bring his personal life to the office. He’d learned the pitfalls of that the hard way when he and the woman he’d almost married both worked at the Colorado Journal of Business and Development, before they were both promoted to posts as editors-in-chief of different papers. He got the Dallas paper. Joan got the Seattle Journal.

      When it became clear that one of them would have to compromise their career, it became fodder for the office gossip mill. Everyone was speculating on which one would give up the dream job for the preservation of their relationship. In the end, they sacrificed their future together. To this day, they remained good friends and even better colleagues, calling on each other for professional advice and sharing a good-natured rivalry concerning circulation and notable scoops.

      After they broke up, Drew vowed to leave his personal life at home. As the editor-in-chief, it would be unprofessional to date one of his staff. In fact, Drew had instituted a no-dating policy among the staff of his paper. It just kept things cleaner. No jealousy, no bitter breakups to add to the tension of an industry that was already stressful by nature.

      “Drew? You are out of it today.” Something bounced off his temple. It only took a second to realize Bia had wadded up a piece of paper and thrown it at him.

      “Seriously?” He tried to frown at her but ended up smiling in spite of himself.

      “You’re always the first one here in the morning and last one to leave,” said Bia. “Go on. Get out of here. This edition is almost done. I’ll see it through until the files are emailed off to the printer.”

      Drew’s smile faded. He knew he was looking at her as if she had two heads. Did she really think he would cut out early on drop day? Especially after taking a three-day weekend?

      “No, thanks. I got this. I can call and let her know I’m going to be a few minutes late.

      Bia whistled. “I knew it.” Her voice was triumphant.

      Drew cocked a brow at her to make it clear he’d let that bit of info slip on purpose.

      “The news that, yes, indeed, I have a date does not need to be leaked to the rest of the newsroom.”

      “On one condition,” Bia challenged.

      “No conditions,” Drew countered.

      “One condition. Do not be late. That is not a way to impress her. For that matter, you don’t have to permanently block out every single Thursday on your calendar from now till the end of time,” she said. “We’re just waiting on the Sugar Hill story. If you’d trust me just a little to demonstrate that I can pull it off, which is what you’ve been training me to do, we could start switching off late Thursdays. And you could get out of here early tonight and go see whoever it is that’s had you preoccupied since you got back from the wedding.”

      He drummed his fingers on the desk, thinking. She was right—in more than one way. For the better part of a year, he had been training Bia for an editorship. She could handle it. If she got into a bind, she could call him. But there wouldn’t really be a bind because almost everything was done except for the late-breaking Sugar Hill scoop. They were waiting to verify a few facts that would allow them to scoop the daily paper.

      Then again, he could’ve waited one more night—or at least until after the paper was put to bed—to see Caroline again.

      Hell, he had not wanted to wait. And Bia was right: being late wasn’t the best way to make a good first impression. So why rush the Sugar Hill story that Jeff Thomas was ironing out?

      “Jeff just sent me the preliminary copy,” Drew said. “That’s what I was looking at before you СКАЧАТЬ