Chapter 22
K alista waited by Bo’s truck for Tyler to arrive.
Her hands were damp, and even the mountain air and scent of pine didn’t soothe her nerves.
It didn’t help that it was muggy and hot— something Viv had warned her about the weather once summer was in full swing.
She was parked on the side of the road in the middle of her route, not that far from Mr. Hudson’s cabin, per Viv’s instructions last night.
“You’ll have to fake a breakdown,” she’d said while they were still on the porch.
“That way you can get him alone. There won’t be any distractions or an escape. ”
“How do I do that?”
“Bo will know. He’s inside.”
Kalista listened as Bo told her what to do to the engine after she parked it. It was simple—just loosening a wire. She didn’t know the name of it or what it was hooked to, she just did what he said. “Tyler will figure it out quick, though,” Bo pointed out. “He’s a smart cookie.”
“Then you’ll have to work fast, Kalista.” Viv smiled. “Think you’re up to this?”
She wasn’t sure, but it was worth a try. He hadn’t been happy when she called him about thirty minutes ago, telling him the truck had broken down. She was also sure he’d be even more irritated when he found out it was just a loose wire. It was a risk she was willing to take.
When she saw his car heading her way, she smoothed the dress Viv let her borrow—a cute, conservative sheath she paired with her sandals.
Definitely modest, and not her normal delivery girl attire.
She’d curled her hair instead of just putting it up in a ponytail, and she’d taken off her overgrown acrylics over a week ago and had given herself a plain manicure.
She missed her long nails, though. Regardless of how things turned out in the future, she wasn’t going to give up her mani-pedis.
Tyler pulled behind the truck. Sure enough, there was a scowl on his face when he approached her, carrying a toolbox. Scowling didn’t suit him. Smiling did, and if Viv’s plan worked and she could talk to him for longer than a minute, she might turn his frown upside down.
“Did you look under the hood?” he said, blowing right past her and straight to the front of the truck.
“Um, no.” An itsy-bitsy lie because she’d been fiddling with the wire under it when she called him.
“Pop it for me.”
“I will... in a minute.”
He turned around. “What?”
“I’ll pop the hood in a minute.” She walked toward him, keeping her gaze on his. “After we talk.”
Tyler took a step back. “Just pop the hood, Kalista.”
“After we talk.”
He stepped back again, his foot slipping on the gravel road. The toolbox hit the ground as he flailed, trying to get his balance. Then he fell down the incline.
“Tyler!” She ran after him. How could she be so dumb to park next to the edge of the road like that? When she reached him, he was on his back in a thick patch of grass. “Are you okay?”
He sat up and blinked. “I think so.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” She automatically grabbed his hand. “I was afraid you were hurt.”
“I’m fine.” Tyler yanked his hand out of her grasp.
“I’m sorry.” Her bottom lip quivered. “I just wanted—”
“What,” he snapped. “You want what?”
“To know why it’s hard to be around me.”
When he didn’t answer, she got to her feet. How embarrassing. She shouldn’t have listened to Viv, although it wasn’t her fault. “Doesn’t matter anyway,” she said, turning to leave. She’d fix the truck herself. “I already know.”
He bounced to his feet. “Huh?”
“You don’t want to be around me because I’m immature and shallow. The end.”
His brow hit his hairline. “What? No. You’re neither of those things.”
“I’m not?”
“Of course not.” His expression relaxed. “You’ve never been late to work, I’ve gotten calls about how nice you are when you deliver the paper, and Mrs. Joyce says Pepé adores you.”
“He does like his treats.”
“You also cleaned the circulation room without me asking. I’d been meaning to get to it, but I haven’t had the time.”
“It was kind of fun.” In addition to always having a chef, her father had employed many maids over the years.
Kalista rarely had to clean anything, but when she decided to tackle the circulation room, she discovered she enjoyed organizing.
She’d also gotten a chance to interact with Cletus and Paul, who showed her how the press worked.
But Tyler was confusing her. “Then why do you keep ignoring me?”
He looked down at his feet. Kicked a stone with his sneaker. She half expected him to say, “Aw, shucks.” Instead, he said, “Because I like you.”
Kalista crossed her arms. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
“Mr. Hudson didn’t want me to get my feelings mixed up with business, so I knew I had to keep my distance. And I tried, but when I saw you at Viv’s house during the hoedown... Gosh, Kalista, you’re so pretty.”
“Aw,” she said, leaving off the shucks. “Thank you. I’m sorry I made you mad that day.”
“I wasn’t mad. I was disappointed. I know you’re out of my league. So I had to stay away from you. The more I’m around you, the more I like you.”
She did a double take. “Wait... You like me... like that?”
He nodded, finally looking at her, his cheeks red and his glasses slipping to the end of his nose. He pushed them up. “Yes,” he said softly. “I do.”
Kalista smiled. Why is he so adorable? “I’m not out of your league, Tyler.”
He scoffed. “Yeah. Right. You’re just being nice to me.”
Oh, the irony of him thinking she was nice.
Then again, maybe she was. She’d changed since coming to Clementine.
She didn’t mind not having her phone, music, or TV because she’d fallen in love with classic literature.
She enjoyed her job when she thought she would hate it, and she loved getting closer to Viv.
She even looked forward to slopping the hogs in the morning. Who am I?
She smiled. She was Kalista Louise Clark, and the most irresistible guy she’d ever met had just told her that he liked her. But he didn’t believe that she could like him. Time to redress his assumption. Ooh, even her vocabulary was changing. Thanks, Jane Austen.
“Is there any way I can convince you that I’m telling you the truth?”
His chocolate-brown eyes widened. “Huh?” he said again.
She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Does this help?” His little gasp made her smile and boosted her confidence. She kissed his other cheek, letting her lips linger. “Or this?”
He pulled back, not saying anything, still looking shocked.
Oh no. This was a mistake. He was her boss, and he just said he couldn’t get involved with her. Just when she was going to apologize again, he said, “I think you missed a spot.”
“Where?
“Right. Here.” He touched his mouth.
She inwardly squealed and gave him a light kiss. “Now do you believe me?”
He took her hand. “I might need more convincing later.”
Absolutely adorable. Although she didn’t want to, she dropped his hand. At his surprised look, she said, “We’re at work. We have to be professional.”
“Oh. That’s right.”
She turned and headed for the truck.
“Where you going?” Tyler asked.
Grinning, she said, “To fix the engine.”
His mouth dropped open. “You know how?”
“Of course I do. I’m the one who broke it.”
* * *
Seb stared at the computer screen as he read the latest email from Bennett Communications.
After coming back from his cabin and beginning his search for buyers for The Times , he discovered that everyone was doing business through email now—at least the communication part.
That was when he noticed his computer was missing.
Evelyn Margot had fessed up, pointing out that it had taken him forever to even notice it was gone.
Touché, but he was angry anyway. All she had to do was ask for it and he would have given it to her.
She’d quickly returned it, and he’d given himself a crash course on all things Mac.
He had to admit it did make some things easier. He would never write on one, though.
Writing. Not only hadn’t he worked on his novel since Jade’s betrayal, but he hadn’t written another column.
No one seemed to miss it much either. Then again, he’d kept to himself except for the occasional discussion with Flora, who still didn’t know about the impending sale and hadn’t been able to make money appear out of thin air, which only proved that selling was the right thing to do.
He did give out assignments and edited articles, but he was more hands-off than he’d ever been.
Subconscious or not, he was pulling away.
Hopefully that would make the inevitable easier to swallow.
He leaned forward and read the screen.
Dear Mr. Hudson,
Per your last email, I have put together a final proposal for purchase of The Clementine Times,incorporating your requests and suggestions. Once you’ve read this document and agree to the terms, we will execute the contract.
We look forward to The Times joining our family of community newspapers.
Sincerely,
Elizabeth Vuong
Seb sat back, the wheels of his antique chair squeaking.
He’d been going back and forth with Bennett, and the negotiations had gone smoothly.
His biggest demand was that every single employee and delivery person would keep their job or get a severance if they decided not to stay. He had to take care of his people.
As for him, he would get a nice chunk from the sale.
Not as much as if he’d gone with another company, and Harrington had offered the most. But integrity meant more than dollars, and he believed Bennett would do right by The Times and the Clementine community.
He hoped so anyway. He didn’t trust his judgment anymore, but he’d done as much due diligence as he could.