skills, would make her a terrific fiction writer. But she didn’t want to write fiction. She wanted to write the next big story. She wanted to rub elbows with the likes of Judith Miller of the New York Times and Dan Balz of the Washington Post.
And Owen Garrett was going to make that possible.
But first she had to choke down a tofu casserole with her parents, when what she really wanted was a triple-decker beef burger with all the trimmings over at Buns and Burgers. She tried not to drool at the thought and resigned herself to a lovely luncheon marred only by the prospect of the menu.
CHAPTER TWO
“I WANT TO SUE THE NEWSPAPER,” Owen growled to his lawyer, Scott Everhall. “She refuses to print a retraction without a court order, so let’s give her what she needs. I want to go to court.”
“Calm down. Let’s talk this through,” Scott said as he grabbed a fresh tablet to take notes. “What’s got you so full of piss and vinegar?”
“Piper Sunday,” he spat.
“I read her stuff. She’s good,” Scott said, then quickly added when Owen gave him a dark look, “Well, I mean, as good as any small-town reporter, I guess. So what’s she said that’s upset you so much?”
“She wrote that I’m going forward with the east mountain project with a flawed timber harvest plan, which basically points me out to be some kind of bull-headed jerk who doesn’t give a rip about the environment or the endangered fairy shrimp or whatever damn bug that’s in need of protecting.”
“Well, you are going through with the project, right?” Scott asked for clarification.
“I filed all the necessary paperwork and permits. I’m doing everything by the book. I was given clearance.”
“Of course, but that’s not the point she’s making, right? You’re not going to win with her. You know who her parents are, right?”
“No. Should I?”
Scott chuckled. “Well, they’re only the king and queen of liberal politics, Coral and Jasper Sunday. They love to take on people like you. I can just imagine how they would enjoy vilifying a logger.”
“This is bullshit,” Owen grumbled, raking his hand through his hair, feeling as if he were slipping deeper into a mud pit. “So what are you saying? I’ve got no recourse, because her parents are pushing an agenda and they’re using their daughter to get it done?”
Scott shrugged. “I’m not saying anything. I’m just providing information.” He leaned forward and flicked imaginary lint from his desktop. “Here’s the thing— I’m your lawyer and your friend. As your lawyer, I can drag the newspaper into court and demand a retraction. But in the end, it’ll cost you more than it’s worth and, frankly, it’ll just make you look worse. Hell, maybe that’s what she’s hoping. Of course, as a lawyer billing you for my time, I’ll do whatever you feel is necessary. But as your friend, I say let it go. Don’t let this woman get under your skin. You’re not doing anything wrong, so stop letting her make you feel as if you have.”
“Just let it go?” Owen repeated, not quite sure if he was able to do that, not while he was as mad as he was anyway.
“Well, that’s my advice. But you do what you want. I surely won’t turn away your money if you’re feeling like throwing it down the toilet.”
“I think I need a new lawyer,” Owen growled, but Scott knew he was just blowing steam and simply made a gesture as if to say “you can do what you want” before leaning back in his chair, lacing his hands behind his head. Finally, Owen gave it up. “Fine. I’ll let it go. But so help me, if I run into her on the streets, I might not be able to play nice.”
Scott laughed. “Come on now…she’s not bad-looking, you know. You ought to play nice. The saying ‘you catch more flies with honey’ has a certain logic to it. You could do a lot worse.”
Owen barked a short, mirthless laugh in response. “I’d rather bed down with a rattler than pretend to like her just to get her off my back.” With a wry dig at Scott, he added, “Some of us have standards.”
“Suit yourself.” Scott smiled, the insult bouncing right off him without causing a scratch. “Is there anything else I can do for you today?”
“No,” Owen answered sullenly, his blood still hot from his encounter with that wretched reporter. “I suppose not if you aren’t interested in helping me sue the newspaper.”
“Perhaps another time,” Scott suggested with an amiable grin. “In the meantime, want to hit the links with me sometime?”
Owen glowered. “I don’t golf. Stop asking.”
“Stop being so stubborn. You might like it.”
“No, thanks. I have work to do. You might try that sometime.”
“I work. And you’ll have evidence of that as soon as you get my bill in the mail.”
Billable hours. He swallowed a sharp retort. As the woman who raised him would say, he had a bee in his bonnet and he needed to chill out. “All right. I’m out of here then. And don’t hurt yourself, okay?” he said, gesturing to the paperwork on Scott’s desk before heading for the door.
“Stay out of trouble,” Scott called out, and Owen waved in response.
Play nice, that was Scott’s advice. Some lawyer he was. Weren’t they all bloodthirsty, bottom-feeders? Apparently, he had the one lawyer on the planet who had a conscience.
Wasn’t he the lucky one. Yeah…lucky wasn’t what he was feeling right at the moment.
PIPER FORCED A SMILE AS HER mother dished a healthy portion of bulgur, lentil and tofu casserole onto her plate and tried not to stare at the offending mess as if it were the enemy. She’d been eating this stuff for years; one would think she’d be used to it by now. But once she’d discovered meat, covertly of course, she’d had a hard time appreciating the taste of tofu. Her parents would be devastated if they knew she was no longer a vegetarian, which was why she hid it from them. She imagined if she took up smoking they’d be more understanding than if she told them she had a hankering for a quarter-pounder with cheese.
“Your article was fantastic,” Coral said, her voice warm with pride. “You’re keeping your clippings, right?”
“Yes, Coral,” she answered dutifully. That was another thing about her parents, she’d never called them “Mom” and “Dad,” instead always referring to them by their given names as they believed it was unnecessary to cling to archaic traditions. Her friends used to think it was wild that she was treated like an adult when she was ten, but secretly, Piper had wished she had a bit more of that “tradition” her parents shied away from. It wasn’t easy being the only kid in class with parents like Coral and Jasper. She took a bite of the casserole for her mother’s sake. It wasn’t terrible, the spices helped; but it wasn’t beef and that’s what she wanted at the moment. “Actually,” she said around the hot bite, “I had a visitor at the paper earlier this morning and, boy, was he mad.”
Jasper grinned above his own heaping plateful of casserole. “The owner of Big Trees Logging came down to rail at you, huh? How’d that go?”
“As well as can be expected,” Piper said with a shrug. Mad was an understatement. If fire could’ve shot from his eyeballs, she’d have been reduced to a smoldering pile of ash. “He’s pretty ticked off. He threatened to sue the paper.”
“That’s so like a conservative,” Jasper growled, and Coral nodded in agreement. “Censor the press so that the message is muffled. Don’t worry, sweetheart, the truth is on your side.”
She wasn’t entirely sure of that. She felt a twinge of regret for having to railroad Owen Garrett, but she was playing both sides against the middle for a bigger cause. Sure, she was helping her parents further their