A Good Kind of Trouble (A Trouble in Twin Rivers Novel Book 1) (36 page)

"He's your anonymous source," Ben said. She gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Why did you bring him here?"
 

"I didn't know where else to go to. I didn't know who else to trust."
 

She placed a hand on his arm, looked up at him and bit her lip. "You won't say anything, will you?"
 

Ben found himself staring into her eyes instead of answering her right away. He was no longer with Stanton & Lowe and therefore more removed from whatever connection Gregory Stanton had with Lindsey's story. If he could just convince her to forget those last few times he broke up with her. He could start by helping her "friend."
 

He smiled and shook his head. "Your secret is safe with me."
 

She sighed and nodded. "I knew you'd help him."

"I'll talk to him and see what I can do," Ben said. "I need to meet with him privately, though."
 

She twisted her fingers around each other and bit her lip. He reached out to still her nervous hands, enfolding them in his.
 

"Trust me," he said softly and she gave him a shaky smile.
 

He made a cup of tea, poured Lindsey a glass of water, and then led her to the reception area.
 

"If you want, you can wait here. I don't know how long I'll be."

"I'll wait," she said. She sat and smiled and his heart leapt at her expression. Stubborn and protective of the man in the too-large cowboy hat.
 

An hour later, he escorted Lyle through the empty first floor lobby area and then to the kitchen, where his new client insisted on donning his ridiculous "disguise" before ducking out the back door and into the alley behind the building. Lyle Wilkes was paranoid and anxious, but he definitely needed a lawyer. The nervous little man had plenty of reasons to be scared.

They'd set up a time to talk the following day, which would give Ben time to do some research and talk with Jude and Fiona. Ben returned to the lobby and wondered how long Lindsey had waited before leaving. Tasha’s computer was turned off and the light on the phone indicated that the night message was on, so she must have gone home.

He started toward Jude's office to fill him in on Lyle's situation, but as he approached the half-closed door he hear familiar laughter from within. His stomach clenched. He knocked on the door and heard Jude call out to enter.
 

Lindsey was sitting on an ottoman with Tuesday on her lap and Jude was perched on the arm of the chair nearby, comfortable and looking relaxed with his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up. Lindsey was looking up at Jude with a wide smile. Ben forced a smile onto his face and ignored the burning sensation in his gut.
 

"Are you done meeting with Lyle?" Lindsey asked, still scratching Tuesday's ears.
 

"Yes, he left through the back," Ben said.
 

"Can you help him?" she asked.
 

Jude raised an eyebrow. Ben would need to talk to him about Lyle's troubles, but not here, in front of Lindsey.
 

"Possibly," Ben said. "But I can't tell you any more than that."
 

She nodded and set Tuesday on the ground, then stood up and brushed the dog hair from her skirt. "Of course, I understand."
 

Jude stood, too, and shook her hand. "It was nice meeting you, Lindsey," he said.
 

Ben was struck by what a good looking couple they'd make—Jude, dark and handsome, and Lindsey, bright and blonde. His body tensed at the thought, even as he tried to convince himself this wasn't rational. He didn't know anything about Jude's personal life—whether he was married or had a girlfriend. There were no personal photos displayed in the office. He recalled seeing the photo of the young woman, but he had no idea who she was to Jude. Maybe that was a girlfriend. Maybe she was a client. Maybe the photo came with a frame. Hell, maybe Jude was gay.
 

Jude's handshake with Lindsey lingered a few seconds longer than necessary.
 

Nope. Definitely not gay.
 

"I'm getting ready to leave. Fi's off to that conference in San Francisco, so I'm stuck with Tuesday for the week,” Jude said, lifting the dog off the floor and nodding toward the front desk. "Tasha's gone, so set the alarm when you leave."
 

"Sure, but I'll be here a while," Ben said. "There are a lot of documents to review before I’ll have a good grasp on that case.”
 

Jude's eyebrow quirked. "Well, don't stay too late," he said, turning to Lindsey. "Lindsey, hope to see you again."
 

"Think about what I said, Mr. Fields."

Jude smiled. "Call me Jude. And thanks for your interest, but I don't care to be the subject of a feature article in the
Beacon
."

Lindsey returned Jude’s smile and Ben’s expression hardened into a scowl. He ushered Lindsey out and closed Jude's office door behind him, then walked Lindsey past Tasha's neat and empty desk.
 

"This is a lovely building," she said, looking around at the room.
 

"I'll give you a quick tour," Ben offered, not quite willing to let her leave yet. He led her past the meeting room where he'd spent an hour with Lyle and toward the stairs.
 

"Where's your office?" Lindsey asked from behind him.
 

"It's upstairs," he said.
 

"Show me."
 

She was already starting up the staircase. He followed, trying not to focus on her curves as she ascended the steep stairs. Trying to forget that they would be alone upstairs.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Lindsey took in the office and smiled. It already reflected Ben—casual yet professional. The desktop was clear except for a small clock in the corner, a thick manila envelope, and a yellow legal pad. A new computer sat in the box next to a coat rack on which his suit jacket hung. His diplomas were on the wall, under a couple of college pennants and various baseball memorabilia.
 

The sound of the front door closing echoed up the stairs. She'd enjoyed talking with Jude Fields while Ben and Lyle met. He was charming and very handsome, though a little intimidating. She'd heard he hated reporters and had never consented to an interview before. She’d hoped to change his mind. By the time Ben had joined them, she realized that Jude had been the one asking her questions and she didn't know a damn thing more about the man. Yet he hadn't seemed guarded, just genuinely curious about her and her job.
 

Now he was gone. And she was alone with Ben. Her stomach fluttered with that realization and the memories of other times they’d been alone. She longed for those simpler days, when all she’d done to Ben was hit him in the face with pepper spray. That was horrible, but at least it wasn’t permanent damage, like torpedoing his career.

Ben motioned to the chair in front of his desk. "Have a seat," he said. "I'm afraid I'm still moving in, so I'm still light on furniture."
 

He stood between her and the door and her stomach’s fluttering turned up a notch. Why hadn’t he mentioned how she’d crashed into his life and wrecked his career? Was he happy with his new job? She knew Jude Fields had a good reputation, but the law firm’s offices sure looked less fancy than how she imagined Stanton & Lowe’s digs. The guilt gnawed at her and she shook her head at Ben’s offer.
 

"I won't keep you. I know you're busy."
 

He shrugged and leaned against the doorjamb, not moving to let her pass. "How have you been?"
 

Lindsey tried to smile, but the last thing she wanted to talk about was herself. What could she say? That she was about to be fired? He certainly wouldn’t be too sympathetic on that front.
 

"I’m fine. How's the new job?"
 

He smiled and her heart lurched.
 

"It's great. I mean, it's a challenge because I don't know what the hell I'm doing," he said with a laugh. "But I enjoy it."

She was flooded with relief at his genuine and relaxed smile. Maybe working at Fields Law Group was going to be good for him. "I can tell. I've never seen you so happy.”

"That's not true. You've just never seen me so happy with my clothes on."
 

He gave her a crooked grin that sent her pulse racing.
Pull yourself together.
Even if she wanted to get involved with him again—and she really, really did—the odds were good she'd be moving to Los Angeles soon. Nothing good could come of this. She was bad for Ben.
 

"So getting fired from Stanton & Lowe was a good thing?" she asked.
 

"Getting fired sucks. But it's not like I could go back to work at that heap of smoking rubble. Half the partners left in the last week and those that are still there are polishing their resumes. I was lucky to find a new job pretty quickly and one that I like, too."
 

"I hope I'm that lucky." The words slipped out on a sigh before she could stop them.
 

He pushed away from the door and walked forward. She leaned back against the heavy oak desk, putting her hands on the smooth wooden surface to steady herself. Every time they were this close she was struck by his physical presence, how he towered over her. She caught her breath and tried not to stare at his broad shoulders, the way his body tapered from his muscular chest to his lean waist.
 

"What are you talking about?" he asked, standing in front of her. "I thought you were on the verge of getting that bonds story published."
 

She crossed her arms in front of her.

"There's been some difficulty in getting details confirmed. Sam won't publish it until legal signs off, and Ms. Petrie thinks I'm going to get the newspaper sued if we write about what EFB is doing in the bonds contracts."
 

Her breathing was shallow. He was too close for her to concentrate.
 

"You've got that solid. Why is she worried?"
 

Lindsey sighed and studied the college pennant on the wall.
Because Ms. Petrie is having an affair with the city attorney who is also having an affair with Gregory Stanton? Because she's convinced the editors that the interest rates and terms are a figment of a reporter's imagination.
She bit her lip, wondering if she should tell him what Lyle had seen. Would it matter to him? He didn’t seem to like Stanton. But should she share this piece of the puzzle with him? Information was currency in journalism and she knew better than to gossip indiscriminately. Still, she wanted to tell him, wanted to rely on him.

"I don't know," she said. "All I know is, if I don't come up with a blockbuster story on the arena deal, Sam's not going to be able to protect me in the next round of pink slips."
 

She'd spent the last night tossing and turning and worrying over what would happen if she lost her job. The
Beacon
was the only newspaper in Twin Rivers. She'd have to move if she wanted another job in journalism. That meant leaving Kath and Dave and her other friends and having to sell her house. What if she couldn't find another job? What if she had to ask her parents for help? What if she had no choice but to accept her dad's offer and return to Los Angeles?
 

And worst of all would be leaving Ben behind, and everything that could have been.
 

Ben reached out and slid a hand along her neck, tipping her face up. She barely suppressed a shiver at his warm touch. God, he looked so good, so strong and sexy. And concerned about her, which just made her want to throw herself in his arms.
 

"Hey, come on," he said. "You'll get the story published. You're a good reporter, Lindsey."
 

She tried to answer, but found her throat was closing. Damn it. Why did he have to be nice to her? It was going to make her cry.
 

"I just—I just can't lose my job," she said. "I won't just be unemployed. I'll be unemployable. I can’t explain that to my parents."
 

He stroked her hair. "Sweetheart, I understand. I just got fired from the third largest law firm in the city. I survived. You'll be fine. Why are you so worried about what your parents think?"
 

"Because... It's just..." She walked a few feet away from Ben, needing to put space between them. He was too close, too comforting. She couldn't rely on that. "It's complicated."
 

Ben reached out and set his hands on her shoulders, turning her toward him. He gripped her shoulders tighter, his eyes narrowed.
 

"What kind of parents would berate their daughter for losing her job?" he asked.
 

She raised her face to meet Ben’s gaze. "They're not monsters. They're just—they work in the industry."
 

"So what?" His jaw tensed and his disapproval radiated from him.
 

She took a deep breath.
 

"My dad's Weston Fox, the managing editor of the Los Angeles
Press-Herald
. He runs the largest newspaper on the West Coast. He has multiple Pulitzers on his desk," she said. "And my mom—my mom is Liz Allen."
 

Ben's eyebrows rose and Lindsey watched the familiar parade of expressions. Surprise, then recognition as he saw the resemblance between Lindsey and her mother—the same green eyes, blonde hair and dimples that he'd grown up seeing on Liz Allen's reports on the evening news. She'd seen it on others' faces her whole life.
 

"Liz Allen, the TV reporter?" he said. "Oh. I see."
 

Lindsey's shoulders sagged and she closed her eyes.
 

"Please, just don't tell me you had a crush on her growing up."
 

It wouldn't be the first time a guy she was interested in confessed this. It was always a mood-killer, but with Ben, it would be even worse. She started to move away, but Ben pulled her close.