“Hey, boss. What’s up?”
He steepled his hands on his desk and peered at her with his dreamy hazel eyes.
Damn. Dreamy? She meant irritating. Beady even.
The weather was unseasonably cold already and he was sporting a pair of corduroy pants and a somewhat ugly argyle sweater that she knew had been a Christmas gift from his mother last year. Not the most stylish of outfits and yet somehow he looked like he’d walked out of the pages of an L.L.Bean catalog. Just because he was tall with broad shoulders and had really cute sandy-brown hair that flopped on his head because he needed a haircut. And today he was wearing his glasses. What was it about a large lumberjack-looking man who wore glasses? Why did that make her stomach twist up into knots? And then there was his lopsided smile...
What in the heck was she doing? This was Sawyer Wallace, lifelong friend and, more importantly, boss. She couldn’t size him up like a piece of meat. Especially because they worked together. Especially because of what had happened to her in New York.
“Riley,” he began.
“Sawyer,” she countered, and bit her lip in anticipation.
He reached into his top desk drawer and pulled out a colorful silk scarf. “Before I forget, Tony found this at The Brewside. Said you left it there a couple of weeks ago and he kept forgetting to give it to you.”
She reached for the bright yellow scarf with lime-green polka dots. One of her favorites.
“Thanks,” she mumbled. “Tony must have given this to you while you were on your date.” She used air quotes for the word date and wiggled her eyebrows.
Sawyer exhaled a long breath.
“What?” she asked, feigning innocence.
“‘Bayside’s forever bachelor’?” he quoted. “Really?”
She shrugged.
“I thought I told you to keep me out of the Bayside Blogger’s column.”
* * *
Riley stepped into his office and closed the door. She didn’t sit in either of the chairs in front of the ancient oak desk in his office. The desk that had belonged to his great-great-grandfather. Instead, she remained standing in front of him, wearing a sexy little dress that looked like something he’d once seen on a rerun of The Mary Tyler Moore Show. Not to mention those boots that showcased her shapely legs.
She was wringing her hands, he noticed. That meant she’d already realized he wasn’t going to like being an item in her gossip column.
“You wrote about me? Seriously?”
Riley scrunched up her nose in a way he found distracting. And...cute. “I’ve written about you before. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to exclude you just because you work at the Bugle.”
He arched a brow. “Because I own the Bugle, you mean?”
“Well, no one’s off-limits. That was the deal we made when I started doing this.”
“I know. Believe me, I know.” Did he ever. When Riley had originally pitched him the idea of a gossip column he’d had no idea what the Bayside Blogger would become. He’d only said yes because she’d been so excited about it.
After she’d returned from New York City, the usually bubbly girl he’d known forever had been different. Somber, quiet, less bubbly. Not for the first time, Sawyer wondered what exactly had happened to her in Manhattan. But she never talked about it and changed the subject if New York was even brought up.
His phone chirped and he saw a text message from his mother. He gestured to his phone. “Do you see this? You have my mom reading your column.”
“I love your mom. Tell her I said hi.”
Sawyer gritted his teeth. “My mom follows the Bayside Blogger. My mom mentioned the article and I told her it wasn’t true. She just asked me via text if I was planning to propose to Holly and when I said no, she asked if I was gay.”
“Fair question,” she said with a wry smile.
He nailed her with a hard stare. Riley remained completely unaffected. They’d known each other too long for intimidation. Hell, they’d known each other their entire lives. Of course, that’s what happened when you grew up in a small coastal town like Bayside, Virginia.
“You know I’m not gay.”
Her gaze ran over him. “Of course you’re not gay. Look at that outfit.”
“Cute.”
“Thanks.” She plopped down in a chair. “Honestly, I don’t know what you’re upset about. I didn’t write anything that bad.”
He leaned toward her. “You said I was on a date.”
“I had multiple sources email and direct message me on Twitter about your little daytime rendezvous.”
Sawyer knew Riley got tips all day long from her many sources. For, as much as they complained, the residents of Bayside couldn’t keep themselves from joining the gossip train. They apparently loved helping the Bayside Blogger report on one another. They emailed her directly or through the Bugle’s website and left Facebook and Twitter messages. Last summer Riley had been able to take a weeklong vacation without the gossip stopping.
He’d claim the whole thing was preposterous, but the numbers didn’t lie. The gossip column was the most viewed area of the online edition of the paper. He couldn’t help but wonder what his ancestors who’d started the newspaper would think of that.
Still, he wasn’t letting her off the hook that easily. “You know I wasn’t on a date with Holly.”
She raised her nose in a regal gesture. “I know nothing of the kind.”
“She’s one of our best freelance photographers. We were meeting about an assignment.” Even he could hear the defensiveness in his voice. And why did he feel the need to explain himself to Riley?
“You could’ve met here at the office.”
“I needed caffeine.” And he’d needed to get away for a little bit.
Running a daily newspaper wasn’t the easiest of jobs these days. Not that it ever had been. Balancing editorial with the business side, advertisers and marketing. Not to mention the dwindling circulation numbers.
He really wished he didn’t have to mention that.
“Is the Bugle in trouble?”
Damn, she was the most perceptive person he’d ever met. Probably why she was so good at being the Bayside Blogger.
He noticed the concern on her face. It probably mirrored his own. Still, he didn’t want to worry her or anyone on staff. So far he’d been able to keep all of the financial concerns to himself. “No more than every other paper in the country.”
“Maybe you could raise the price. I’m sure people would pay...”
He shook his head as she trailed off. “You know that circulation doesn’t keep newspapers afloat. Advertisers do.”
A small line formed on her forehead as she considered that. “But you said that advertisers have been fighting to get in.”
“Just in your section.” Which was true. Everyone wanted to appear in the Bayside Blogger’s section since they knew that everyone in town was reading the gossip. Bayside had its fair share of restaurants and local businesses, but a small town offered only so many resources. And without more advertising, they’d be closing up shop by the end of the next summer season.
The truth was, Riley’s question was on target. The Bugle was in trouble. Sawyer had tried to stay on top of it by utilizing their website and digital edition and making sure the design was up-to-date. He’d even downsized the print edition to cut costs at every corner.