desk drawer and pulled out the handheld tape recorder. He popped in a new tape, pausing to think about what Taneesha had said.
He knew that management had plans for him, that he was fast becoming 'the new face of WBTN-TV.' And until this moment, he'd been caught up in all the excitement of his meteoric rise. But Brian knew what he wanted and it wasn't an anchor job, even if it meant big money and a high profile in town. All he really cared about was telling a good story.
When he'd gotten out of college, he'd been determined to work in print journalism. So he'd paid his dues with small newspapers in Connecticut and Vermont. But he'd wanted to get back to Boston and when he'd been offered an entry-level news-writing job at WBTN, he'd taken it. He'd never once expected it to blossom into the career it had.
Brian slipped the tape recorder into his jacket, then pulled his car keys out of his trouser pocket. As he headed toward the door, Taneesha's warning still niggled at his brain. He'd worked with her for over a year and she'd never steered him wrong-when it came to a story or personal advice. But every instinct told him that, contrary to public opinion, his career wasn't headed in the right direction. And Brian trusted his instincts.
Hell, he could just quit right now and start over again, find a job at a decent newspaper and work his way up. But he was thirty years old. At that age, a guy was supposed to have his life in order, his priorities straight. But then, he hadn't been brought up in a conventional family, so maybe he had a good excuse.
Life in the Quinn house had taught all six of the Quinn brothers to live from moment to moment. Their father, Seamus, was rarely at home, his job as a commercial fisherman keeping him away from Southie for weeks at a time. And Brian's mother had left the family when Brian was only three years old. He and his brothers had raised themselves, with oldest brother Conor serving as the parental figure.
They'd all gotten in their share of trouble, but Brian and his twin, Sean, had been the wildest. They'd managed to compile a rather impressive record of petty crimes with the police, but luckily, by the time the trouble got serious, Conor had begun working as a cop. He'd thrown them in jail for three days after they'd stolen a neighbor's car, then made them spend the summer painting the guy's house as punishment. The neighbor was happy to have the help and Brian and Sean decided that a life of crime truly didn't pay.
So Brian turned his energies to his studies and took a part-time job loading newspapers on the trucks at the
Brian jogged to his car in the station parking lot. If he was lucky, he'd get what he needed early in the evening and he could spend the rest of his Saturday night at Quinn's Pub, relaxing over a pint of Guinness and charming a few good-looking women. Brian chuckled. Maybe he'd even wear the tux. Though it probably meant at least an hour's worth of good-natured ribbing, he'd at least have his pick of the beauties in the bar.
'First business, then pleasure,' he murmured as he started the car.
By the time the tables were cleared and the band began playing, Lily Gallagher was ready to go home-or back to her hotel, which was home for now. She leaned on the bar and ordered her first glass of champagne, then winced at her sore feet, chiding herself on her choice of footwear. Though the strappy designer shoes went perfectly with her gown, they weren't made for a long evening on her feet.
She'd flown into Boston just that afternoon from Chicago, curious as to the reasons she'd been summoned. Richard Patterson had personally contacted her boss at DeLay Scoville Public Relations and requested her services. According to Don DeLay, Richard Patterson was willing to toss down a hefty retainer without any explanation of what he wanted her for.
Lily wasn't about to refuse. A job like this was her ticket to the top, just one step away from a vice presidency and a corner office. And right now, that office was in her sights. Though nothing had been explained up front, Lily suspected why she'd been the chosen one. Patterson was a big real estate developer and just last year she'd handled a huge scandal with a real estate developer in Chicago.
Crisis public relations was her specialty. People called her when things went bad and it was her job to make them better. On the plane trip from Chicago, Lily had read everything she could about Patterson Properties and Investments, a company that owned shopping malls and motels and fast-food restaurants. Richard Patterson was well-connected politically and was slowly climbing the social ladder in Boston, despite his humble beginnings in a working-class Boston neighborhood.
For Lily, it had been a relief to be offered a job outside of Chicago, though she missed her new house and her best friend, Emma Carsten. She and Emma worked together at the agency and often talked about breaking out and starting a company of their own. But the practicalities of paying a mortgage had made a promotion at DeLay the primary goal for the moment.
Hopefully, Richard Patterson would have some juicy crisis that she could sink her teeth into, some touchy political problem or maybe a community relations issue that she could solve. She'd fix what needed fixing and have a nice addition to her portfolio when she went back to Chicago in a few months. Then she could demand that promotion.
'Lily?'
She turned to find Richard Patterson standing behind her. He was a handsome, forty-something guy with graying temples and impeccable grooming. He wore a beautifully tailored tuxedo, probably from one of the best menswear designers. If he hadn't been a client-and he hadn't been married-Lily might have considered him a possibility. But she never mixed business with pleasure. 'The party is wonderful,' she said. 'You've done a terrific job as chairman, Mr. Patterson.'
He forced a tight smile. 'I didn't do anything. I hired a party planner and my wife took care of the rest. Listen, I have to leave. I've got a flight to catch. An emergency with a group of investors from Japan. I know we haven't had a chance to talk and I'll be out of town for the next few days. But I want you to call my secretary on Monday. She'll set up appointments with my key management people. You'll be up to speed when I get back.'
'Good. I need to know everything I can. Maybe if you tell me what you'd like me to work on, I can get a head start and when we meet I-'
'We'll discuss that on Tuesday,' he interrupted, glancing over his shoulder.
'All right.'
'If there's anything you need, call Mrs. Wilburn. Boston is beautiful in the month of June. Get out and see some of the sights.' With that, he turned and strode away, leaving Lily to wonder why it had been so important for her to arrive today-and to attend this party.
Lily glanced around, deciding that she'd wait until she was sure Richard was gone and then call it a night.
She took another sip of her champagne as she studied the couples on the dance floor. The ballroom at the CopleyPlaza was beautifully decorated to look like the gardens at Versailles. Fountains trickled and arbors were laced with heavily-scented flowers and tiny white lights making an incredibly romantic scene. She sighed softly.
There were other reasons she was glad to leave Chicago. Her engagement to attorney Daniel Martin was now officially off. After two years of dating and a four-month engagement, she'd thought she'd finally found the man of her dreams-until she'd discovered him naked and in bed with an exotic-looking brunette and her two artificially enhanced breasts. She'd never expected him to sink to such depths and his only excuse had been that he just wasn't ready to commit.
Lily had planned her life around this man, had invested her future with him, and suddenly it was over and she had been forced back to square one in her personal life-forced to admit that she'd surrendered far too much for love. Sometimes Chicago felt like a desert for single women. Plenty of great-looking men on the horizon, but when you got too close, they were simply a mirage, a figment of a desperate imagination.
She took another sip of her champagne and glanced around the room. Maybe it was time to stop being desperate, to quit looking so hard for love and just settle for… a little lust. She'd made the first move toward independence, buying a house of her own. 'I know exactly what I need now,' Lily murmured. 'A nice, tidy, but very passionate, one-night stand.'
She hadn't gone looking for creeps and jerks, but the men who wandered into her life had always been strangely unavailable-engaged to someone who didn't understand, married to a woman they'd forgotten to mention,
