Page 26 of The Big Scoop

“I never should have doubted you.”

“That’s your job,” he replied as he stroked my hair. “You’re a reporter. You’re paid to dig—to be skeptical.”

He was right, but it wasn’t making me feel any better. But one thing that had been said in those e-mails was still ringing around in my mind.

I wanted to ask him about it, but I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried to come up with the words, nothing came to mind. I just stood there, pressed against him as he held his arms around me, wondering what the hell I was supposed to do now.

But, as always, Harrison had the answer.

“I know what you’re thinking about,” he said gently. I couldn’t respond. All I did was moan back a little question-sounding thing into his chest.

“You’re thinking about when I said you might be ‘the one’ in that e-mail to Audrey.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My throat was choked and more tears were threatening to spill from my eyes. Harrison waited a moment, then lifted my chin with his finger, forcing me to look at him.

He was smiling down at me, looking more handsome than ever, with the strong Italian sun backlighting him like a romantic photograph.

“I meant it when I said that, Gwen. And that’s why I chased after you. I never want to be without you, Gwen. Never.”

Here come the waterworks, I thought as he smiled down at me.

“Because I love you.”

Tears spilled from my eyes and my chest shook as I choked back a sob. Harrison’s words blazed through me like golden fire, lighting my soul and burning away all the terrible feelings that had seized me.

He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead.

“Do you love me too, Gwen? You do, don’t you?”

“Yes!” I blurted out, giving in fully to the most beautiful realization of my life. “I love you, Harrison. And I’m so sorry for ever doubting you.”

“Don’t apologize, princess,” he whispered. “You’re perfect. And you’re all I’ll ever want for the rest of my life.”

14

Harrison

Eight months later…

“So, as you can see, Night Industries has brought three hundred jobs to Derby,” I explained to the band of reporters trailing behind me as we toured the newly erected factory.

“The factory’s basically up and running and we’re starting to get to work on the generators. We still have a lot of work to finish before everything’s working smoothly, but we’re almost there.”

“And what about the rumors that once the factory is up and running, you’ll be turning to automation and laying off most of your work force?”

That was Pierce, a reporter from Boston who was always on my case about one thing or another. I didn’t get the vibe that he actually disliked me—it was more that he was a young, brash dude looking to dig up an angle that he thought no one else had thought of yet.

“That’s not happening, Pierce,” I replied with a grin. “The people I’ve hired can rest assured that their jobs are safe. Just as long as they don’t give me a reason to fire them.”

The rest of the reporters laughed, while Pierce just gave me a mild smile. But that was good for him. He couldn’t be seen “getting along” with me in public. That was just his shtick. I didn’t mind, of course. I’d win him over eventually.

“As you can see, we’ve got great working conditions. We’re finishing up a game and relaxation room there,” I said, waving to a large room with unfinished drywall and a couple of pool tables sitting under black plastic. “Everyone gets three breaks a day to blow off steam and we want to make s

ure they’ve got entertainment beyond sitting on their phones in a cramped break room.”

“Not worrying about illegal gambling going on inside your business?” Karen, a gal in her 40s from Portsmouth, said with a grin.

“Only if they don’t cut me in for a percentage,” I replied.

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