Not the most enthusiastic response he’d ever received, but manageable. She hadn’t said no. That’s what counted. “I’ll get to know you,” he explained slowly. “You’ll get to know me. And I’d like exclusive rights to your social life for a while. In exchange, I’ll give you exclusive rights to mine.” He was vaguely aware of how stuffy he sounded. Smooth, Reed. Why didn’t he just go ahead and hand her a contract to sign.
“That’s got to be the most romantic offer I’ve ever had,” Molly quipped.
At least she hadn’t stormed out. He considered that a good sign. Just as he’d thought, Molly Flynn was different from other women he’d known. “What have you got to lose?” he prompted.
She was drumming her fingers on her leg again, a quick, agitated rhythm that mirrored the pace of the thoughts he saw moving across her expressive face. “How long is this arrangement going to last?”
Sam realized that he’d been holding his breath when her question tipped him that she was seriously considering his offer. Years of business negotiations told him he was a few well-chosen words from closing the deal. “As long as we can stand each other,” he assured her.
She hitched up the corners of her mouth. “We won’t make it out the door on the first night.”
He could only hope that the energy between them could be harnessed into something more satisfying than animosity. He’d felt considerably better when he’d finally admitted to himself that he was attracted to her. It explained why she got under his skin. “Actually, I have it on excellent authority that I can be very charming.”
“I’d like to see that.”
He leaned closer. “Then how about right now?”
“Right now?”
He nodded. “I’ve got a meeting with the mayor and the head of the transportation commission in thirty minutes. I thought you might like to go with me.”
He could practically see the wheels turning in her head. After arguing with him for weeks about the importance of the Sentinel’s covering the Payne Board of Supervisors’ approval of a major transportation hub development contract, she’d be unable to resist the opportunity to sit in on the meeting with two of the key players. “Won’t the mayor think it’s odd if I tag along?”
Sam shrugged. “You’re our top reporter. Why should he think it’s odd?”
She studied him warily. “Because he has no reason to suspect you’re planning an in-depth story about the hub.”
“Of course he has,” Sam stated flatly. “It’s the biggest piece of local news on the horizon.”
“You’ve been telling me for weeks you didn’t think it was newsworthy.”
“I didn’t think the time was right,” he told her flatly. “I thought I had made that clear.”
Molly’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t think anyone else in Friday’s meeting got that impression.”
“Sorry to hear that. I have every intention of covering this story, and I have every intention of putting you on it.” She was watching him with keen interest, he noted, as if she weren’t quite sure she could trust him. He’d obviously misstepped there, if he’d made her doubt his intentions.
“You’re serious,” Molly said slowly. “Aren’t you?”
Sam nodded. “Completely. I think the time is now right, and I’d planned to ask you to this meeting anyway. The ad,” he said, indicating the paper with an absent wave of his hand, “was just an added incentive.”
Molly collapsed back in her chair with a long sigh. “Good grief.”
He smiled. “If it makes you feel better, I admit I should have dealt with this differently. I apologize for not talking to you about it sooner.”
“We both could have avoided a lot of embarrassment,” she said.
“Probably. But now, I’m interested in damage control. Do we have a deal, Molly?”
She tapped one finger in absent agitation on her knee. “What if people don’t buy it?”
“Leave that to me,” he assured her. “I’m not worried.”
“And all I have to do is be seen in public with you—every now and then?”
“You’re not currently involved with anyone, are you?” he probed.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Then it won’t be a problem. I’ll try not to bore you.”
Molly looked stunned, then burst into laughter. “Are you kidding? Geez, Sam, you irritate me, you annoy me, you frustrate me, and you challenge me. But you never bore me!”
“I talk too much about my business.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, so do I. And since your business and my business are the same business, I doubt that’s a concern.”
Sam felt better than he had in weeks. Satisfaction settled firmly into his bones as he contemplated the future. “Then go to the meeting with me,” he urged. “We’ll have lunch afterwards, and then come back to the office around three. You can explain things in the newsroom, and tonight, we’ll have dinner. Everyone will assume that since the cat’s finally out of the bag, we have decided to go public with our relationship.” He shrugged slightly. “If you want, I’ll even take responsibility for keeping our relationship secret until now. People will simply believe that you got angry at me for insisting on privacy, and that you ran the ad to force my hand.”
“It’s so ridiculous,” she conceded, “it might work.”
“It’ll work. Have you read the tabloids lately? People like ridiculous stories. It’s human nature.”
She frowned slightly as she thought it over. Sam liked the way Molly looked when she concentrated. The harder she concentrated on something, the more she worried the tip of her tongue between her teeth. He found it unexpectedly sexy. “What if we find out we really can’t get along—that all we do after hours is fight like we do now? Then what?”
Sam recognized a wary concession in the question. “We’ll end it,” he stated flatly. “The only thing I ask is that we end it quietly.” His gaze dropped to the classified section of the paper on his desk. “I don’t like spectacles.”
Molly winced. “After seeing that ad this morning, I don’t either.”
“Then we have a deal?”
She visibly wavered. “What about my family? What do I tell them?”
Sam began to relax. He might not know much about romancing women—women, Sam found, usually chased him—but he knew a lot about making deals. Anticipating questions that might arise was key to a successful negotiation. And he’d anticipated this one from Molly. Nobody who lived in Payne more than a few days could help noticing the closeness of the large Flynn clan. Molly’s father owned a popular downtown restaurant where two of his sons-in-law worked with him. And all five of the Flynn daughters still lived in town. One was a teacher. Another was a lawyer. Two were stay-at-home moms. And then there was Molly. The only one of the five not yet married, she was widely known as the family rebel. Molly was the youngest of the girls. She was tight with her sisters and wouldn’t be comfortable deceiving them.
Sam met her gaze across the desk. “Tell them the truth,” he said. “Tell them that we met here.