passed for regret in his world. “You were fun, though. And the story was a miracle. You made a great case for my father’s partners shouldering the blame.”
“When it was your father all along? He cheated all those people?”
“What matters is the court of public opinion. And you’ve done a great job for our . . . cause.”
“But he deceived all those people . . . ” Her voice trailed off as she realized the further ramifications of her story. “And the Sentinel printed it. And it was all garbage. It was libel. Oh my God . . . my career.”
“You’re tough. Hell, you made it to New York City from some backwater town in Virginia, kid. You’ll land on your feet.”
But she hadn’t landed on her feet. Once the hate mail started pouring in, she was fired. A retraction was printed, but Patrick’s father’s partners sued for libel, assessing over three million dollars’ worth of damage.
With nowhere else to go, Savannah broke her lease, packed up her belongings, and headed home in shame under the guise of taking the summer off from work to help with her sister’s wedding. Her parents and sister knew the truth, of course, but the rest of Danvers was a sleepy little town, and the reaction from most of the townsfolk had been: “How lovely that you’re back, dear. And just in time for Scarlet’s big do!”
“Katie Scarlet, I’m about to go diabetic from so much sweetness. Finish up and put me out of my misery. What’s number twelve?”
“‘Number twelve, the first time you realize that he loves you as much as you love him.’”
“What happens after twelve?” asked Savannah, half kidding.
“After twelve, you’re ready for forever,” said Scarlet, not kidding one bit.
Savannah smirked humorlessly as her little sister closed the mammoth magazine with a flourish.
“And now I am going to go get ready for tonight’s dinner-dance at the club. Sure you won’t come, Vanna? Trent could get you a date.”
“With one of his frat brothers? Five years younger than me? Or, worse, with his brother, Lance? No thanks, Scarlet. But you have fun.”
As her sister headed inside, Savannah let the words roll around in her head: loves you as much as you love him. Her heart clenched with a weakness, a longing, that she tried to ignore. She’d given love a chance, and she’d been blindsided, duped, and destroyed. Lost her home and her job and everything else that she’d worked for. She looked up as two blond-haired kids rode by on bicycles decorated for the Memorial Day parade tomorrow and tried to find the silver lining. But she couldn’t. She’d worked her whole life to get out of Danvers, Virginia. And yet, here she was, right back where she started.
She was surprised to feel her cell phone vibrating in her back pocket. Once upon a time her phone had been the epicenter of her world, as she fielded calls and texts, chased down stories, and followed leads as the up-and-coming star reporter for the New York Sentinel. But, over the past two or three weeks, it hadn’t buzzed more than a couple of times. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the unfamiliar area code: 602. She thought for a moment. Hmm. Phoenix. Who did she know in Phoenix?
“Savannah Carmichael, New York Sen— Um, this is Savannah.”
“Hey, Savannah. It’s Derby Jones.”
Savannah drew a blank. “Mm-hm. What can I do for you, Derby?”
“For starters, you can remember me,” said the woman in a cheerful, knowing voice. “We met at the West Coast Journalism Conference out in LA last fall. I was doing a story about—”
“Health care for seniors!”
“Yep! I knew you’d remember me once you remembered the story.”
“I’m like that weird lady at the dog park who knows people by their dog’s names. Spot’s mom. Rex’s dad. Senior health-care story.”
Derby laughed. “I don’t know if you remember, but I was stuck on that story. I couldn’t figure out the angle, but you stayed up until well after midnight with me, looking over my notes, talking to me about what I wanted to say. When the sun came up, I had an angle.”
“That’s right.” Savannah smiled. “I was glad to help. How was the article?”
“Actually, it was so good, I won a Sunshine Award from the SPJ.”
“Valley of the Sun ?”
“Yep. It also won me a raise and a promotion.”
“That’s great, Derby. Your star’s rising, I guess.” She tried her best to sound enthusiastic, even though it stung a little bit.
“And