big-city papers have. Reporters mostly set their own copy, but we have Billie to set the filler stuff and the legals,” he added with a wink at the petite blonde behind the computer.
“Is the newspaper printed here?” Cal asked quietly.
“No,” Nikki told him. “We have to carry it all the way to Mount Hebron, thirty miles away. At that, it’s still less expensive than buying the setup we’d need to do it here. We do all the makeup and paste-up, get our own ads and make them up—everything, in fact, but the actual printing. Mike drives the paper down there Wednesday morning and we get it back by that afternoon. Then we all rush to the back, run the papers through the mailing plate machine to put the names on the local papers, bag the single wraps, and get it in the mail. It’s in the boxes Thursday morning.”
“And nobody comes by the office on Thursday and Friday, because they don’t want to bother us while we’re working on the paper,” the redheaded reporter, aptly named Red Jones, piped in, pausing to introduce himself and short, dark Jerry Clinton to the newcomer.
“Nobody realizes that we do that on Monday and Tuesday.” Clinton grinned. “It’s a deep, dark secret.”
“These two handle the police beat and the advertising, respectively,” Nikki said. “We’re all interchangeable, of course, and we all do makeup and paste-up.”
“And Jenny keeps the books,” Mike broke in, joining them. “Came to see if I was working, huh?” he teased Nikki.
Cal arched his eyebrows at the neat, orderly operation. “I expected to find a desk buried under reams of paper and old journalism books and yellowed back issues stacked on shelves. I’m impressed.”
“You should have seen the place when my father was alive.” Mike chuckled. “He used to inspect the office once a week wearing white gloves. God help the staff if he found dust. Care for some coffee? We have our own snack bar in the back.”
“No, thanks,” Cal replied before Nikki could open her mouth, “I’ve got some phone calls to make.”
“See you at the house, then,” Mike murmured, sensing undercurrents.
“Nice to have met you,” Cal told the rest of the staff, his eyes stopping short of Ralley.
They echoed the polite remark. Ralley, seeing opportunity slamming at his door, moved forward and tugged a lock of Nikki’s hair in an old, affectionate intimacy.
“See you later,” he said, keeping his tone uniform with the gesture. “Take care of her, Mr. Steel,” he added with a curt smile.
“Goodbye, Ralley,” Nikki said, her glowing eyes promising retribution at the earliest opportunity. “Thanks for all your help.”
Ralley ignored the sarcasm. No way was he going to let that big-shot outsider swipe his girl. He’d seen Nikki first, and he wasn’t giving her up. He didn’t plan to let her slip through his fingers this time. He’d been a fool to let her go, but Leda’s charms had blinded him. He was older now, and wiser, and he wasn’t going to hand Nikki over to some expensive stranger. She couldn’t be serious about that big man, anyway; God knew he was years older than she was. Mike had mentioned something about him being a tycoon, but Ralley was skeptical. After all the guy could have been pretending. But even if he did have all that money, it wouldn’t take the place of love. Nikki still loved him, he told himself smugly. All he had to do was prove it to her. He walked back into his office whistling.
* * *
“ARE YOU GOING to ignore me for the rest of the day?” Nikki asked as she and Cal sat down alone to a small lunch.
Cal glanced at her, dark-eyed and unapproachable, over his coffee cup. He’d been pleasant enough since that visit to the office, but it was all on the surface.
Cal was just as remote as he’d been on the drive home, and she wondered if a sledgehammer would dent him.
“I won’t be here for the rest of the day,” he said quietly.
“You’re leaving?” she asked, her eyes wincing, her disappointment almost a physical ache.
“I’m a businessman. I’ve got too many irons in the fire to stay here.” He finished his coffee.
She’d noticed that he’d changed into a beige suit, with a matching tie, that he was dressed for travel, not recreation. But she hadn’t wanted to believe it. Now she had to.
She wasn’t sure, but she thought she knew the reason he was leaving. If she was wrong, it was going to