Chapter Twenty-two
When Nora had stopped by the office to upload her photos and videos from the NEZ Plant fire, it wasn’t a surprise that half the cubicles were empty.
It was mid-afternoon on Sunday, after all.
But seeing very similar conditions at noon on Monday made her worry.
Was the Star really in trouble? Was that the reason for the buyout her boss had mentioned?
She made a quick circuit of the news area but couldn’t find either of the people she’d spoken to on the phone.
There was something waiting for her, though.
Resting against the old-school push-button phone that still resided on her desk—a different kind of holdout from Collin Becker’s era—was a plain folder with her name on the outside.
Inside was a boilerplate contract, giving the Arizona Star, and its parent company Gee Enterprises, full and complete rights to her photographs, past, present, and future.
Why in the world would they think she would sign such a thing?
The insult to her intelligence was almost as galling as the fact that she hadn’t seen any such paperwork on anyone else’s desk, and some of them had also been hired when Collin had been in charge.
But maybe they’d already signed theirs, and she was the sole holdout?
She’d been gone for several weeks, after all.
Tucking the folder under her arm, she made her way to Abel’s office. His secretary, Mrs. Draden, a pinch-faced woman in her late fifties secretly referred to as Mrs. Dragon by those Nora knew, held out her hand as Nora approached.
“Did you want to leave that with me, Miss Palmer?”
“Not just yet.” Nora tried a friendly smile. “I need to speak with Abel about this before I sign.”
Mrs. Draden frowned. “He’s not available right now.”
“I’ll be at my desk for at least an hour, unless something comes up,” Nora said. “Could you possibly buzz me when he has a moment?”
“I’m not sure when that will be. I’ll do what I can for you.” Her tone left no doubt that such a thing was highly unlikely.
Nora threw herself into her desk chair and brooded.
Staring out the window, she thought of Fallon, who was probably halfway to Colorado by now.
They’d ended up holding each other all night, without much conversation other than an agreement that Fallon would let her know when she arrived.
No other promises were made. What would be the point?
Giving each other false hopes would only cause more pain, and there was plenty of that already.
Forcing herself back to the here and now, Nora began sorting through some sticky notes that had long occupied the lower left corner of her monitor.
They contained everything from aged grocery lists to phone numbers with no names attached to times and dates of meetings that she’d already attended or missed.
As she moved to toss the bulk of them in the trash, her eye caught a blinking red light on the old landline.
She couldn’t remember the last time that phone had been used.
Collin had resisted an automated voice mail system, saying that the paper was personal, and people who called needed to hear a human voice.
Abel had no such constraints and had gone to the “more efficient approach” less than a week after he’d taken over.
Could someone have forgotten to disable the old system?
Luckily, she wouldn’t need a sticky note to remind her of the retrieval code she’d set up. It was 0505, Tyler’s birthday. Picking up the receiver, she called into the system, pushing in the numbers and listening in astonishment as a message played.
“Hi, Ms. Palmer, this is Eric Abney with Strobe Publishing. We’re putting together a coffee table book of the Southwest, and several of your photos have caught the eye of our senior editor. Could you please give us a call back at your earliest convenience? Thanks.”
Another voice mail from the same individual had similar wording. Nora jotted down the number he gave and was about to hang up when a third message played.
“Hello again, Ms. Palmer. Since we weren’t able to reach you, we took the liberty of contacting your boss, Mr. Griffin.
He explained about your family leave and has promised to let you know of our interest as soon as you return.
But just in case, here’s our number again.
Oh, and I should add that the Arizona Highways magazine is also published by Strobe, and we’d welcome other submissions from you for that audience. ”
Nora replaced the receiver carefully, staring at the little black brick of a phone with its rows of gray buttons.
The blinking red light had gone off. “Holy shit,” she murmured.
Of course Abel wanted the rights to her photographs.
If she signed that contract, the advance and the royalties from these projects would go to the Star, or more accurately, to Gee Enterprises, and the extra income would make Abel Griffin look like a freaking financial genius.
His story about a buyout was probably pure BS.
Nora grabbed the folder and headed for the parking garage, not bothering to tell Mrs. Dragon that something had indeed come up.
In the car, she called Tyler’s cell. He rarely picked up when he was at work but always checked in and returned calls. “Honey, I know you’ve just gotten back to work, but could you please come home as soon as possible? I really need to talk to you.”
True to form, Tyler returned her call just as she pulled up at the town house. “What’s up?”
“Remember that weird message from my boss about the contract? You won’t believe what’s going on at work. Can you come home soon?”
“Probably not for a couple of hours. Things are kinda backed up here.” Her tone must have worried him. “Are you all right?”
“Yes and no. But it’ll keep until you get here.” Opening the door, she found Cade playing a video game.
“Oh hey. I didn’t know you’d be home this early, or I would have started dinner.”
Cade sounded genuinely contrite, and Nora reminded herself that her brother found this person worthy of his time, so there must be something there. “I don’t really have a regular schedule. But something happened at work and I…”
Nora heard herself trail off. She closed her eyes as the room seemed to tilt. She felt Cade’s hand on her arm. “Come sit down. And put your head between your knees. You’ll be fine in just a minute. Okay?”
She sat as Cade had directed. A minute later, a cold glass of water was pressed into her hand. “Just take a sip,” Cade said. Nora did. “Breathe.” She did.
“Wow,” she said after another minute. “Thanks. I guess I’m more stressed out than I realized.”
“What happened?” Cade asked, looking anxiously at her for a moment before focusing on the ground. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to—”
“No, it’s okay. Fallon told me I was too much in my head sometimes.
” That was who she really wanted to talk to.
Fallon would’ve held her hand and rescued her from this weird place.
Fallon would’ve made it all better with just a smile and a hug.
She forced down a sob. Just tell Cade, she told herself. Pretend it’s her.
She shared everything, from the ridiculous contract to her boss being “unavailable”—she made air quotes on that, matching Mrs. Dragon’s expression, making Cade laugh—to the incredible news from the voice mails on Collin’s outdated system.
“Collin was such a wonderful man. And now it’s almost like he’s left me this one last gift.
” Cade made a sympathetic sound. Nora had another thought.
“I’m going to tell Mr. Abney about my Firecamp photos.
Then and now. They’d make a great story.
Maybe he could pitch that to his editor. ”
“I think you should check with Fallon about that first,” Cade said, sounding emphatic. “She’s got the reputation of being seriously shy about publicity.”
Nora caught herself before she could protest. Cade was right. She needed to be sure Fallon felt protected this time. Besides, it would give her an excuse—
“So what are you going to do if this jerkwad boss threatens to fire you if you don’t sign the new contract?” Cade asked.
Nora frowned, rolling her lips tightly. “I guess I’ll have to get a lawyer. I’m certainly not going to take this lying down.”
“You could always quit,” Cade suggested.
Nora’s mouth opened slightly, and she gave Cade an incredulous look.
“What?” Cade asked. “You’ll make money off the photo book and the magazine pictures, right?
But you’ve probably got enough stashed away to get you back to Colorado, where you can work on your Firecamp book too.
Then, we can all live happily ever after instead of having to watch you mope around here like someone died. ”
Nora blinked. Could it possibly be that easy? She stood. “Please excuse me for a moment, Cade. I have a couple of calls to make.”
At her desk, she adjusted the legal pad, preparing to make notes on the call with Mr. Abney.
Faint imprints of script caught her eye on the blank page, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in there.
Curious if Tyler or Cade had used the room, she glanced at the trash can, pulling out a single sheet of crumpled paper.
The only thing Fallon had ever written to her before had been the word “OK,” when she’d agreed that they might try again, but the earnestness and eloquence of this discarded letter took her three Kleenexes to get through.
No one will ever take your place in my heart.
Did that mean Fallon loved her? Was that what she wanted?