Within days, her boss, the managing partner of Tyson, Myers and Smith, had told her about the elimination of her position. He’d tried to convince her that it wasn’t about her performance and it wasn’t personal. He’d said that it was about workload and a matter of having to cut costs. He’d said all the right things, but in her heart Emma knew better. The senator had pressured her boss to let her go.
In hindsight, Emma recognized that accepting the assignment had been the beginning of the end—with Richard and her career—and ultimately had precipitated her move to Sanctuary Cove.
Well, at least something good had come of it.
She was thankful that she hadn’t succumbed to Richard’s insistence while they were together that she sell it.
Finished with her tea, she took her mug back to the kitchen.
No, she didn’t feel up to working on the brand proposal, but she didn’t want to work in the yard, either, where she’d been restoring the gardens. She poured herself more tea and retrieved her laptop from her office.
She’d purposefully avoided checking the New York news feeds for a while. It had been almost an obsession to stay current with what was happening with the senator and the allegations when she’d first moved to Sanctuary Cove. For weeks after her arrival, she’d searched online and read snippets about the ongoing investigation, and the categorical denials of any wrongdoing from Morgan’s office. There had even been an interview with Richard, where he condemned the media’s attack on the senator. Each time she saw a new article, a painful knot formed in her stomach and hurtful memories resurfaced.
She’d ultimately forced herself to stop following the case and resolved to put it out of her mind. She’d been reasonably successful.
Until now.
She set her laptop on her dining room table and did a quick search of recent headlines. Months had passed since her fateful meeting with Daniel Leighton, and she still couldn’t find an article from him about Morgan and the kickbacks related to the AFM contract.
Strange, Emma thought. Daniel had all that information he’d shared with her, yet he hadn’t written anything about it. She’d been in the business long enough to know how it worked. If you had a story that big, you wanted to get it into print as soon as possible before someone scooped you. Yet Daniel hadn’t gone public with what he had.
An uncomfortable feeling crept into her belly.
Could those copies of the checks Daniel had shown her been fake, as Richard had suggested?
The discomfort in her stomach intensified.
Think. Think.
She tried to recollect everything she knew about Daniel. Senator Morgan and his chief of staff had portrayed him as unscrupulous, opportunistic. Nothing in her background check corroborated their view. In fact, everything she knew about Daniel pointed to just the opposite.
If she accepted the senator’s position that Daniel wanted to discredit him, why would a reporter who had built his career on a reputation of journalistic integrity and meticulous research choose to mount an unwarranted, unsubstantiated attack on a prominent politician?
Was there something more at stake for Daniel?
Emma watched a hummingbird dart around outside, then hover to feast on the nectar of a crimson bee balm.
Was it possible it was all about Daniel trying to reinvent himself as a political reporter, a position he’d been promoted to shortly before the allegations surfaced? Was he simply trying to advance his career?
Emma tapped a fingernail on the side of her mug.
The senator’s characterization of Daniel didn’t fit. Her research and her instincts both told her Daniel was not the type of reporter who would misrepresent the facts or fabricate a story. And why would Daniel have lied to her? Had he somehow seen her as a pawn to further his cause?
No. None of that rang true.
But if Daniel hadn’t lied to her, why was there no story?
Was it possible Richard had been right...about Daniel and about her? Could Daniel have misled her? And by misleading her, precipitated the events that caused her world to crumble?
“Oh, my God,” she whispered and squeezed her eyes shut.
It was unthinkable...
EMMA HAD ANOTHER restless night. She woke exhausted and with a miniature construction crew gleefully hammering away in her head. But the insistent pounding hadn’t been enough to banish the nagging doubts about Daniel Leighton.
After swallowing two painkillers, eating breakfast and taking Max for his morning walk, she felt marginally better. She poured more coffee into her mug and took it to her office. Max followed her, stretched out next to the chair and was soon snoring softly.
If only her life was as tough as Max’s, Emma mused with a weak smile as she started up her laptop and opened the brand-proposal document. She sipped her coffee while she reviewed what she’d already done. Getting to the end of the document, she placed her mug on the coaster with more force than she’d intended, the smacking sound startling Max.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said to him and tried to tamp down her frustration.
The proposal was mediocre at best. It lacked originality and pizzazz. Thank goodness she didn’t have to have it complete until the end of the month.
Maybe Richard had been right, and she just wasn’t suited to work in her chosen field—even on a part-time basis and without final creative approval.
Had she ever been good at it? she wondered.
Yeah. Sure, she tried to bolster herself. She’d been in demand, had been promoted several times at Tyson, Myers and Smith until she’d reached the highest position she could without becoming a full partner. She’d been recognized with an award—communications professional of the year—twice!
But now...
She stared at the computer screen. She’d been insistent with the owner of Pinnacle Communications that she didn’t want her name associated with the work. She’d do it on a ghostwriting basis.
If that wasn’t an indication of lack of confidence in her abilities, what was?
The owner had agreed to her condition without much discussion. He’d said it was because he wanted her on board regardless. Staring at her screen, Emma decided to start fresh rather than fix the stale ideas in the existing document. She tried to immerse herself in it, but soon realized it was futile. Frankly, she had no idea how to differentiate the athletic wear manufacturer in an already crowded marketplace. Instead, she decided to work outside.
She mowed and weeded and pruned vigorously for hours, all the while thinking about Daniel Leighton, Morgan and, of course, Richard, and all that had happened. By the time she stopped midafternoon, she was exhausted but in a much better frame of mind.
She’d been jumping to conclusions. She couldn’t have been wrong about Daniel and what he’d shown her. She was positive that he was scrupulous.
There had to be another reason he hadn’t gone public with the information he had. With resolve, she pushed the matter out of her mind again.
She showered, and dressed in faded jeans and a yellow T-shirt. In deference to the heat, she bound her hair up in a high ponytail. Her stomach growled, reminding her she’d missed lunch. While she ate a sandwich, she thought about the injured dog...and the veterinarian.
She considered calling Josh at the clinic but rejected the idea. She wanted to