Her eyes flew open. “No way!”
Blain laughed. “Cat, it’s not that I don’t think you’re good enough for hard-hitting news. I do. It’s just that your talent and personality are better suited for your humorous ‘Cat on the Prowl’ columns. People love them. They’re eating them up like sugar-coated candy.”
Cat got quiet for a moment as she mulled over the news. Her thoughts strayed to her parents. Warmth curled around her as she reflected on what Sam had said to her the night before. Deep in her heart she knew her mother and father would be proud of her and would want her to choose a path that made her happy.
She glanced up to see Blain watching her, his brow furrowed in concentration as he gauged her reactions. “You can let me know at the end of the week, okay?”
Nodding, Cat stood. “Thanks, Blain. One more thing.”
He rolled his eyes, but his smile was genuine. “I’ll see to it that Hawk does a proper follow-up on the story. And make sure he gets his facts right,” he said with a wink.
Cat planted her hands on her hips. “If he doesn’t, I’m writing another article,” she said, challenging him.
Blain laughed. “Stick to what you do best, Cat.”
Cat smiled, touched that he had so much faith in her, and fought to keep her as an employee. “Thank you,” she said, and made her way back to her desk.
After Cat returned a dozen phone calls from people wanting to be interviewed for her article, she climbed from her chair and stretched. She glanced at her watch and noted that time had gotten away from her. She needed to get home to prepare for tonight’s experiment.
A half an hour later Cat changed lanes and maneuvered her car through dinner hour traffic. The dashboard clock indicated that she had less than an hour to get ready before Sam picked her up to help him complete his research. She switched lanes again after the traffic in front of her came to a complete standstill.
She hadn’t expected to be running so late or to be caught in rush hour traffic. Cripes, she felt like she was stuck smack dab in the middle of a freaking snail convention.
Tapping her fingers impatiently on her dashboard, Cat flicked on the radio and waited. Finally, traffic began moving again. A short while later Cat tapped her brakes and eased into her exit. As she neared her condo, her thoughts returned to Sam. They always returned to Sam. Even when she wasn’t with him, he was always with her. In her mind. Under her skin.
Once this project was complete and he got what he needed from her, would he resume his “Romeo” lifestyle—as Jen had described it? Would she stand in her window and watch a bevy of women come and go from his condo? Her stomach lurched. She felt physically ill. She could no longer pretend it didn’t matter.
Cat pulled into her driveway and rushed inside her condo. Her stomach grumbled as she kicked off her shoes and sifted through her mail. She’d be lucky to grab a quick bite before Sam arrived. Stepping farther into her condo, she stripped off her jacket and tossed it onto the sofa.
The doorbell chimed.
She stopped dead in her tracks. Sam couldn’t be here this early, could he? Cat padded across the floor, peeked through the peephole, and then pulled the door open. She came face-to-face with her grinning friend.
“Hey Jen, I’m kind of in a hurry,” she rushed out, unbuttoning her silk top, needing to get a quick shower before Sam showed up.
“Well, how was it?”
Cat crinkled her nose and pinned her friend with a glare. “Have you ever known me to kiss and tell?”
Jen chuckled. “So there was kissing involved, was there?” she probed, stepping inside the condo, shutting the door behind her.
Cat pulled her top off and walked to the kitchen. She called over her shoulder, “I have to get a shower before Sam gets here. We have more research to do tonight.” Opening the fridge she popped a strawberry into her mouth, attempting to appease her hunger.
Keeping pace, Jen followed behind. “Research? That’s what they call it these days, is it?” she teased. She leaned against the doorjamb while Cat rifled through her produce drawer.
“I thought you might want this,” Jen said.
Cat peeked over the top of the door to see Jen hold out an envelope. A wide smile split her pretty face. “It’s from the Daily Press. It landed in my mail slot by mistake.”
Cat’s heart stilled. The refrigerator door slipped shut as she came out from behind it. “You’re kidding,” she said around a mouthful of strawberry. “I just sent my resume off a week ago. I didn’t expect to hear from them so soon.” She wiped juice from her lips, accepted the envelope, and plopped herself into a wooden chair.
Jen lowered herself into the chair opposite her, her eyes wide in anticipation. Cat ripped open the envelope and scanned the letter. She read it once, let out a heavy breath, and read it a second time, assessing the information.
“Bad news?”
Cat tipped her head. “Well, not really. They’re interested in my work.”
“Whoo hoo! That’s great, Cat.” Jen paused and narrowed her eyes. “Hold on, what’s up with you? This is what you want. What you’ve always wanted. You should be up doing the River Dance. Why aren’t you?”
“It seems my article on the Iowa Research Center really intrigued them. So much so, they want me to fly to New York for a personal interview.” She twisted her lips and furrowed her brow.
Jen’s eyes opened wide. “And you have a problem with this? Why?”
Cat dropped the letter on the table and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s not as simple as that.”
One brow rose, intrigued.” No?”
“My editor just told me my column was going into national syndication.”
“Really, that’s fabulous Cat. But isn’t this the break you’ve been
