A Different Light (25 page)

“Rossi’s after you, Athen,” he declared frankly.

“No!” She feigned surprise, a hand over her heart. “Why, thank you, Quentin, for tipping me off. I’m simply overcome by your concern.”

“I mean it, Athen. He had Wolmar call a press conference this morning.” He leaned forward as if sharing a secret.

“I saw it,” she told him. “Someone called to tell me.”

“Who?” he asked.

“A friend in City Hall.” She sipped her coffee, grateful to Veronica that she need not be beholden to Quentin for the news.

“I didn’t think you had any friends in City Hall,” he said bluntly. “Especially after that dog-and-pony show I witnessed this morning.”

“So you thought you’d stop over here and be the first to get my reaction.” She bit her bottom lip. At least now she knew why he was really here. “Wouldn’t that be a nice touch to tomorrow’s story?”

“No, Athen, I didn’t come for a story.” He put his cup down on the table.

“Then why are you here?”

“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.” His gaze was steady, his voice hypnotically soft and surprisingly sincere. “You told me the truth and I didn’t believe you.”

“Why would you believe me now?” Sipping from her cup, she attempted to resist the spell cast by his eyes.

“Rossi had Wolmar call that press conference for the
express purpose of letting everyone know you are on Rossi’s shit list.”

“I know that.” She jutted her chin out just a bit, refusing to hang her head in his presence.

He swished his coffee round and round in the bottom of its container, but did not take his eyes from her face. “Was it because of what you did last week?”

“It would appear so.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said gently.

“You’re sorry he’s trying to push me out?” She remained unconvinced of the purity of his motives, and could not resist playing as hard with him as he once had with her.

“I’m sorry because you don’t deserve what they did to you today.”

“But I deserved all the crap you’ve been throwing at me all these months,” she snapped indignantly.

“That was different,” he replied.

“Oh, of course. Your motives were strictly professional. The journalist’s right to know.” She drew a sharp breath. “Whereas Wolmar blatantly intended to cut me off at the knees for political reasons. Your motives were pure but his weren’t? Is that what you see as the difference?”

“Athen, I never intended to hurt you personally,” he protested.

“Yes, you did, Quentin, every bit as much as Jim did. Only he’s a hired gun.” She paused to cough, and he handed her the water glass that she’d left at the far end of the table. “At least I know why he’s after me. I never understood why you were.”

They stared each other down for a very long moment.

Finally, he said, “For a long time, I really believed that you were part of it. Now I know better. And, well, I
guess it bothered me that you were involved with Rossi.”

“Why?” she demanded. “Why would you care?”

“I know how stupid this sounds, and I know I had no right to have any expectations of you, but I wanted you to be the woman I thought you were when I first met you—if that makes any sense at all.” He held his hands out in front of him as he sought to explain.

“What was it you thought me to be?” she asked.

“Sweet. Honest. Straightforward. Intelligent. Beautiful.” He seemed embarrassed, as if he’d said more than he’d intended.

She rolled her eyes, knowing how she looked at that moment. “You should have stopped at ‘intelligent.’”

She stole a sideward glance at his face, seeking a sign of guile. She found none.

“Can you forgive me for thinking you were a …”

“… a political whore?” She squared her shoulders and completed the sentence for him.

He winced at the memory of having called her exactly that. “For all the things I thought you were since you took the job.”

“Can you promise never to make a fool out of me again?” she asked pointedly.

“Athen, a reporter doesn’t make the news. If you stand up at an open meeting and make statements that indicate you don’t have the faintest idea of what’s going on, how can I ignore it?” He challenged her sense of fair play.

For the first time it dawned on her that if he had made a fool out of her, it had been because her own actions had made it so easy for him to do so.

“That will not happen again,” she vowed firmly.

“Then you have nothing to worry about as far as my paper is concerned.” He smiled gently. “I promise to
be fair to you if you will be honest with me. And if you will forgive me for … well, for everything. Do we have a deal?”

She nodded, understanding that a truce had been called, though uncertain if she’d made a friend or if she’d made a pact with the devil.

“Well.” He broke the silence. “Are you going to let Rossi push you out?”

“I don’t want to make any statements.” She shook her head.

“No, no,” he assured her. “Strictly off the record. This is friend to friend now.”

“I don’t know how to stop him if he wants me out.”

“You can refuse to go.” Blue eyes studied her intently.

“To what end?”

“If nothing more, to be as big a pain in his butt as he is in everyone else’s.”

“I don’t know if it’s worth the humiliation.”

“What happens if you resign?” he wondered aloud.

“You saw it this morning.”

“Wolmar?” He frowned, then nodded. “I guess that follows.”

Quentin’s eyes lingered on the photos Callie had placed on the mantel. Callie and John. John in his uniform. Athen holding a newborn Callie, John standing by proudly.

“What?”

“What? Oh, I don’t know.” He smiled. “I guess in a way, I’m disappointed.”

“About what?”

“That you’re giving up so easily. That you’re giving in to him.”

“Why, because you won’t have old Athena to kick around anymore?” She tried to make a halfhearted joke.

“Hey, a good reporter doesn’t care who he kicks around,” he quipped. “Actually, I guess I expected you to fight him.”

“Fight a man I can’t beat to keep a job I don’t want? I don’t see any logic in that.” She dismissed the possibility with a wave of her hand.

“Would you want it if it was real?” His eyes narrowed.

“You mean if Rossi didn’t hold this city in his iron grip and I could do things the way I wanted to?”

“Something like that.”

“It’s an unlikely scenario.”

The slamming of the back door announced Callie’s arrival home.

“Mom … oh, Mr. Forbes. Hi.” She stopped dead in the doorway, as surprised to see him as her mother had been.

“Callie, good to see you.” He smiled his best smile.

Callie looked warily the room. “Is Timmy …?”

“Nah.” Quentin’s eyes danced. “The little geek is riding this afternoon at my mother’s.”

“Riding?” Callie asked.

“Horseback riding,” Quentin explained. “My mother and stepfather have quite a stable. Say, maybe some afternoon you might want to …”

“I don’t think so,” Callie said pointedly, and Quentin laughed good-naturedly.

“Callie, you’re being rude,” her mother whispered.

“It’s okay,” Quentin assured her, “but the offer is always open, Callie.”

“Thanks anyway, Mr. Forbes.” Callie stood looking
at them from the doorway.

Quentin took the hint.

“Well, I should be getting back to work.” He rose from his seat. “Athen, I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“I am, thanks.” She debated whether or not to walk him to the door. She recalled suddenly how she was dressed, what she must look like, and decided to stay put.

“I can find my way out.” He smiled as if reading her mind.

“Thanks for the flowers.” She found herself looking up at him, unable to look away. “And for the apology.”

He appeared to be about to say something more, then glanced at Callie, standing like a sentinel at the entrance to the front hallway.

“Well,” Quentin said, “I guess I’ll be talking to you. Bye, Callie.”

“Why was he here?” Callie demanded after he’d closed the door behind him.

“He brought me flowers.” Athen tried to appear nonchalant.

“Why?”

“It’s customary to bring flowers to friends when they’re sick.”

“Since when has Mr. Forbes been your friend?” Callie asked suspiciously.

Athen barely heard her, suddenly lost in thought.

“And what did he have to apologize to you for?” Callie pressed.

“For being wrong about something.” Athen smiled to herself.

“What was he wrong about?”

“Me.”
He was wrong about me and he admitted it. And will wonders never cease … the man brought me flowers.

“Sometimes grown-ups make no sense,” Callie muttered as she went to answer the front door, where Mrs. Kelly waited to make her soup delivery.

ATHEN PLANNED TO GO INTO
the office the next day, but at dawn she found herself still too weak to get up and get dressed. When she returned to City Hall, she wanted it to be with her head up, and as weak as she still was, she just wasn’t ready. She decided to take one more day off.

It’s not as if I have piles of work to do when I get back,
she thought glumly.
Edie’s no doubt taking the mail home to Dan, anyway.

Around noon she dressed in jeans and a chambray shirt, ate a leisurely lunch, and decided to spend some time with her father.

The day was warm and clear, a perfect spring afternoon. She rolled the car windows down and breathed in the sweetly scented air as she drove through the park. She turned into the parking lot behind Woodside Manor and searched for a spot under the trees. She walked toward the building, and spotted Diana Bennett’s car at the end of the first row. Athen glanced at her watch. Diana’s lunch hour must be almost over. Athen could wait. She walked to the pond and sat down on the bench to kill some time.

A group of small children gathered on the opposite side of the pond. Laughing with delight, they tossed pieces of bread to the ducks and geese, which swam ever closer to the shore. She thought of the day last summer when she’d stood right in that same spot, and Quentin had appeared with a bag of popcorn. She had liked him that day, she recalled. She’d liked his easy smile and his affability.

She’d thought about him a great deal since his visit the previous afternoon. Once she was able to admit that it had been she who’d set herself up to look like an idiot, she could no longer hold him responsible for the situation she had created. Quentin, while perhaps the most persistent, hadn’t been the only newsperson to recognize her blunders.

It’s always easier to find someone else to blame than to blame ourselves. Maybe I should be thanking him,
she mused,
since it was his harassment that prodded me into wanting to be more informed.

And just look where that’s gotten me,
she ruefully reminded herself.

“Athen?” Diana stopped her car parallel to the bench where Athen sat.

“Hey, Diana.” Athen waved.

Diana parked the car and walked to the pond on high navy heels that clicked on the asphalt. She wore a navy linen suit with a silk shirt the color of wheat, like her hair. As always, Diana looked like she’d stepped from the pages of a magazine.

“How are you?” Athen asked as Diana approached on the bench.

“How are
you
is the question.” Diana removed her sunglasses. “I heard you were very sick.”

“I’m better,” Athen told her truthfully. “I think I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Your father will be so relieved,” Diana told her. “He’s been so worried about you. Your health, of course, first and foremost, but everything else that’s going on has him very concerned.”

“How can you tell?” Athen asked.

“We communicate quite well, your father and I.”
Diana smiled. “I read the paper with him every afternoon, and we watch the news on TV in the evening. It’s not difficult to tell when he’s upset, when he’s amused. It’s all still there in his eyes.”

Remarkable, Athen thought. How was it that Diana saw so much that she had not seen?

“I’m glad I decided to come out today,” Athen said. “I don’t want him to worry about me.”

“He’s very upset about what Rossi is doing,” Diana told her. “Ari’d break his neck if he could.”

“That makes me feel so bad, after all the years they were such close friends.” It was so depressing to think that she was the cause of her father’s ill feelings toward his old companion.

“Who were such close friends?” Diana frowned.

“My dad and Dan.” Athen ground the heel of one sneakered foot into the stones at the base of the bench.

“Where did you ever get that idea?” Diana laughed scornfully.

“Why, Dad’s known him forever. They served on Council together. They campaigned for each other.”

“All true. But whoever told you that they were
friends
?”

“Why, Dan did. But I remember Dan coming to the hospital the night my father had the stroke. He was so kind.”

“That SOB just couldn’t wait to see if it was really true,” Diana growled.

“What do you mean?”

“Athen, your father’s stroke was the best thing that ever happened to Dan Rossi,” Diana replied bitterly.

“I don’t understand.”

“Ari worked with Dan for years, but they hated each
other. Your father ranked Dan right up there with Mussolini and Vlad the Impaler.”

“What?” Athen’s eyes widened with shock. “Why?”

“Ari always suspected Dan took kickbacks, but he could never prove it. There’s no question your father was on to something right before he had the stroke,” Diana related bluntly. “Like I said, Ari’s stroke was the best thing that ever happened to Dan. It shut Ari up for good.”

“I can’t believe this.” Athen gasped.

“Oh, it’s true enough. The last conversation I had with Ari on the day he had the first stroke was at about nine in the morning. He was railing about something Dan had done, and said he was meeting with him later in the morning and that he was going to put a stop to it.”

“Put a stop to what?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea. I knew Ari was watching him. I think Dan knew it, too. Whatever it was that set your father off that day must have happened early on.”