Irene’s gleeful grin narrowed to a sardonic smirk. Elissa cut a glance to the napkin dispenser, catching her warbled reflection in the shiny metal. Pitiful. Messy. Why hadn’t she escaped to the powder room when she had the chance? She frowned. Because her heart had had its way. She had wanted to show support for Cole, while all along the man had been waiting for Irene.
Played for a fool once again.
“Miss Harper, how are you this morning?” Cole nodded, and Irene acknowledged his words with a flutter of her long lashes. “Forgive my confusion, but I was supposed to be—”
“Elissa, something about you today reminds me of when we were in high school.” Irene eyed her hat, her words so syrupy-sweet Elissa was surprised she didn’t choke on them. “I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
“Allow me.” Cole perused Elissa, his eyes hitching for a second on her mouth. “It’s the radiance. She has this youthful glow, making it hard for me to peel my eyes from her.”
Elissa stood, her foot smacking the stool’s side. “Are you mocking me?”
The smirk fell from his face. “Never.”
Thoughts scattered like a thousand puzzle pieces in her mind. Cole’d protected her against Kendrew when they’d been younger, but chose to have a coffee date with Irene now? Surging heat replaced the stinging chill that had overwhelmed her moments ago. Adam might have devised the Shadyside Slob title, but Irene had broadcasted it more than anyone, making Elissa dread walking to school. Hadn’t Cole known that as well? Had Elissa not cried on his shoulder? Again and again.
“I need to get back.” To real life. To guarding her heart. “To the office. One of us should probably work today.” She aimed a cold stare at Cole, and his forehead rippled. Why the man was confused, she had no clue. And at this point, she didn’t care.
“Nice seeing you.” Irene didn’t have the courtesy to glance at Elissa, but slipped between her and Cole, claiming the stool Elissa had vacated.
“Good day, Irene.” With a smile as painted as Irene’s eyebrows, she spun toward the exit. A large hand caught her wrist. “Do you need something, Mr. Parker?”
“You.”
A muffled gasp sounded from Irene’s direction.
“I need you to stay.” Cole released Elissa and stood, giving her his seat. “I believe Miss Harper was about to tell me why she is here and not Dr. Sheffield.”
Dr. Sheffield? The man whose charity Mr. Shelby had donated to? Was this for the memorial article Cole had mentioned last night? Air crept back into her lungs as the pieces came together. Cole had come for information and not a rendezvous with Miss Sultry.
Irene angled toward Cole, excluding Elissa. “He had a last-minute emergency and charged me to deliver this.” She pulled an envelope from her plum overcoat. “He said it has all the details you need.”
“Much obliged.” Cole tucked the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have to return to work.” He ignored Irene’s jaw-dropping expression and clasped Elissa’s hand, helping her to her feet. “Nice seeing you.” He threw Irene’s parting words to Elissa right back at her and kept his glare on the door without even a peek her way. Oh, she could kiss Cole for that. He squeezed her hand, and out they went.
Cole shed his jacket and draped it over his chair’s back. Elissa paced the small span of floor behind their stations, her fingers clutching Dr. Sheffield’s correspondence, her face pinched as if in deep concentration.
“During his final meeting with me, Dan announced that he’d withdrawn his charity funding on the grounds that his interests had changed.” She rolled her eyes and tossed the letter onto his desk.
“I don’t know why you keep reading it.” Cole plucked the pencil from behind his ear and pointed it at her. “This one’s yours.” He’d made a habit of stealing her pencils, paper, and hopefully her heart soon. Though he didn’t really want to steal that—he’d rather her freely offer it.
“Seriously, Cole.” She snatched the pencil from his hand. “Dr. Sheffield all but spelled it out, didn’t he? Mr. Shelby withdrew his funding because of a new interest. In other words, a new flame?”
“Think Miss Kerns had something to do with it?”
She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Of course. That’s what gold diggers do.”
“Gold digger, huh?” Cole steepled his fingertips under his chin, concealing his smirk. “Isn’t the term a bit judgmental?” Though Shelby’s former secretary wasn’t high on the morality list, she was low on the suspect one. No motive. Why kill the man who wanted to share his millions with her?
“Cole, think. Mr. Shelby is in his late fifties. How old did Miss Kerns look?”
“Mid-twenties.”
“There you have it. What would a woman want with a man thirty years older than her?” She strutted over to her chair and sat down as if resting her case.
The newsroom had grown quiet since the editorials were downstairs being inked by the monster. He glanced at Kendrew’s empty chair. The man had rushed through his work and left early. Smart move, considering Cole had some choice words begging to be released.
He fought against a scowl and forced his attention back on the task at hand. Cole had gained enough information from Dr. Sheffield’s letter to craft a nice piece about Shelby. The man had contributed thousands to charity over the years. Supported the construction of the medical center which now serviced the community. Maybe the news would pad his character for when the facts about his affair leaked. Which hopefully, they wouldn’t. “You know what all this means, don’t you?”
Elissa raised a brow. “What? That men shouldn’t be allowed to have pretty secretaries?”
“Nice theory, but no.” He smirked. “It means not only do Mrs. Shelby and her son have a motive against Shelby, but so does Dr. Sheffield. Shelby stopped the money flow. It’s rumored the doc had plans to add another wing onto the center.” Which meant Cole should probably inform Sterling. Later. “How about we break for lunch?”
“Hmm?” Elissa’s pencil went limp in her hand. “Now?”
“Can’t get a Drake’s sandwich past three, sweetheart. And it’s”—he checked his watch— “five until two. I remember how much you loved their creamed chicken sandwich.” Cole’s stomach begged for a yes. “Maybe after that, a quick detour to the incline.”
“On the Duquesne?”
“I have to remedy a past regret. Remember? You wanted to go up on Coal’s Hill, and I said it was a silly idea.” Those words had been born from hurt, which at the time, Elissa couldn’t have understood. If he was going to be a permanent fixture in Pittsburgh, he needed to face his demons. The major one being traveling in the cable car which scaled Mount Washington.
Her brows squished together. “I can’t recall. But you were right. It’s silly to go up there without a specific reason.”
“Then I should word it this way. I have a specific reason why I want to take you there. What do you say?” He almost threw a Spark in there but refrained. He’d tread carefully with that name. “We had our lives threatened last night, so I think today we can enjoy a break.”
Her lashes lowered. “I haven’t started my article yet.” Frustration lined her tone. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea. You’re not trying to distract me, are you?”
“Don’t be so cynical.” He pushed off her desk. “I haven’t started mine either. Don’t even have a lead.” Because he didn’t care if he won. Securing the headline once had been his ambition, but he’d discovered how empty it left him. Success had been a fickle comrade.
Her lips twisted. “I shouldn’t.”
“You wouldn’t reduce me to begging, would you?”
“I might.”
“Yesterday you put a dent in my ego by saving my life—for which, by the way, I endured a torrential ribbing from Sterling—and today you make me grovel?”
Her fingertips pressed against a growing smirk.
“Believe me, I’ll do it.” He stepped behind her chair. “Grab your coat and let’s go.”
“I—I don’t think …” The panic returned, tightening her mouth and bunching the skin at the corner of her eyes. “Now’s not a good time. I really need to start this article. Maybe tomorrow?”
“Please?” He reached over, skimming her arm, and snagged his pen which he’d left on her desk earlier. His gaze roamed the graceful curve of her neck. How easy it would be to press a kiss there. He swallowed and straightened. “A sandwich, the incline, and my undivided attention. What’s your hesitation?”
Her gaze hooked his, and a smile lit her eyes. “Well, since you put it that way.”
If the floor disintegrated beneath his feet, he’d never know. He floated on the hope of her words.