311 Pelican Court - Debbie Macomber [89]
“Jack Griffin, I swear if you plaster my mother’s picture on the front page of The Chronicle with her holding some ridiculous sign, I may never forgive you.”
Despite himself, Jack chuckled. “I’m not making any promises.”
Olivia set aside her menu. “I’ve tried to talk sense into her, but she refuses to listen. She hasn’t got a clue how potentially embarrassing this could be for me.”
Jack frowned. “She’s not thinking about you, but about the citizens of our community and their needs.”
“You’re right,” Olivia agreed, and then paused and glanced up. “I guess I sound pretty self-absorbed about this whole thing, don’t I? But Mom doesn’t realize how much teasing I get at the courthouse. This afternoon someone asked me what I’d do if my own mother ended up in my court. They suggested I make her sit in the corner for fifteen minutes.” Olivia rolled her eyes. “Cute, really cute.” Then, as if she’d tired of the subject, she leaned toward him. “Enough about my mother. How are you?”
“Great.” That was the way he felt, now that he had Olivia all to himself. He’d planned a romantic evening. Okay, this was about as romantic as he knew how to be. They’d have dinner, and perhaps later, if the weather cooperated, they could walk along the waterfront. If he was lucky, she’d invite him to the house for coffee. It had been far too long since he’d kissed Olivia Lockhart….
“Any more on the paper going to five issues a week?” Olivia asked.
“Nothing that I can report, but I think it’s a distinct possibility.” Olivia was well aware of what that would mean, but he didn’t want to waste time discussing the pros and cons of such a move.
The reason he’d accepted this job was that The Cedar Cove Chronicle was biweekly. The demands of a daily paper had nearly strangled his personal life. For a lot of years, he’d buried himself in his work. It was easy to do, and he’d let it happen.
That had been early in his career. He’d nearly destroyed himself, first by drowning his sorrows and fears in the bottom of a bottle, and later by working himself to a state of near-collapse. That had been Jack’s attempt to deal with his son’s illness. As a young boy, Eric was diagnosed with leukemia. He later recovered, but at the time Jack had believed his only child was dying and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it, except drink and work.
During those dark years, when Jack drank, he’d functioned effectively enough at his job—usually hungover—and functioned minimally in society, as a husband, father and friend.
It was when his marriage died that he’d finally gotten the help he needed. Even then, he’d needed years to straighten himself out.
“You won’t leave Cedar Cove, will you?” Olivia asked.
Jack loved the worry he heard in her voice. Another time, he might have let her assume he’d pack up his computer and head out of town, but they were beyond that. He could no more leave Olivia than he could quit being a newsman. And he couldn’t play manipulative games with her, either. But being honest didn’t mean he couldn’t tease her a bit.
“No, I won’t leave,” he assured her. Then, holding her eyes, he added, “I could never walk away now.”
“Oh, Jack,” she sighed, gazing warmly at him.
“Yeah,” he said, “I signed a five-year contract and these people are real sticklers when it comes to contracts.”
“Jack!”
He enjoyed her indignant expression, all the while admitting that he wasn’t the romantic sort. He loved Olivia Lockhart, though. Perhaps he should try harder to say the right things, but he didn’t have much practice in flowery language. If she wanted to hear that kind of nonsense, her ex-husband was probably an expert.
Thinking about Stan Lockhart was a mistake. Jack gritted his teeth. Stan irritated him with his pompous assumption that he could have Olivia back anytime he wanted. He made sure Jack knew it, too.
“Let’s order,” he said in an effort to turn his thoughts to some other subject. As he reached for the menu, he reminded himself that he was the one spending the evening with Olivia, not her