Secrets Of The Night: A Case of Kiss and Tell

Five

Nichole dropped by the set of Sexy & Single, the reality matchmaking television show featuring Conner’s company. She had been writing a blog about the daily goings-on of the show behind the scenes. Lots of information and maybe just a little gossip.

The producer of the show was one of her closest friends, Willow Stead. Willow came over the moment she walked on the set, which today was a private balcony near Central Park West. The other part of their trio, Gail Little, had been the first bachelorette on the television show. And Nichole had been happy to report that Gail had tamed her match, the Kiwi billionaire Russell Holloway, and they were engaged.

The second couple featured on the show, fashion designer Fiona McCaw and billionaire game developer Alex Cannon, were also engaged. Willow said her show was on a roll.

But Gail was back to her job in PR and the weekly drinks were the only excuse the three women had to get together anymore. Which was to be expected. A part of Nichole wished that she and her friends had more time for each other, but life was busy.

“Hey, lady!” Willow said, coming over to hug her.

“Hey, you,” Nichole said, trying for her usual cheeriness but it was hard since she’d only just come from Conner’s office and he’d … well, he’d left her shaken.

“Rikki Lowell is a handful. I can’t imagine how she runs a successful party planning business. She’s so demanding,” Willow said about the show’s latest bachelorette. She linked her arm through Nichole’s. “I’m so glad I’m not the matchmaker.”

Nichole smiled. “She has a reputation for demanding perfection.”

“I’ve seen it. I don’t think Paul is going to measure up in her eyes.”

“He’s a partner at one of the top corporate law firms in the country. He should meet at least some of her standards,” Nichole said. She’d interviewed him and found him to be charming, smart and very sweet. “Is he too nice for her?”

Willow threw her head back and laughed. Nichole noticed that Jack Crown, the celebrity host of the show, glanced over at them. He’d gone to the same high school as the three friends, which made them all meeting here a bit of a small-world type thing. But he’d been two years ahead of them and Nichole hadn’t remembered him at all. “Don’t look now, but Jack Crown is watching you.”

“Is he?” Willow asked without turning around.

“Yes, he is. Why is he watching you?”

“I have no idea,” Willow said.

“Liar.”

Willow blushed. “We can chat later.”

“We will. I’m going to call Gail and tell her to bring a bottle of wine and we are coming to your place tonight.”

“Fine, but anything I say must be kept off the record,” Willow said.

“It always is,” Nichole reminded her friend. Her comments made Nichole wonder if that was part of why Conner thought he couldn’t trust her. Was he afraid that she’d reveal all sorts of intimate personal details about him in her article?

“Do you ever worry that I might slip something you said to me into an article?” Nichole asked Willow.

Willow wrinkled her forehead. “No. I know you wouldn’t do that. I was just teasing.”

Nichole nodded. “I guess we’ve been friends for so long we trust each other.”

“We do indeed. I don’t trust him though,” Willow said.

“At least he’s cute.”

“Ha. Like cute counts for anything.”

“Can you believe we went to high school with him? I certainly don’t remember him roaming the halls. But then I was pretty much in the library all the time and something tells me Jack didn’t even know the school had one.”

Willow laughed, but there was something quiet about her as she turned to stare at Jack. “I did know he was at our high school.”

“I’m going to ask you more about that later,” Nichole warned as Jack started to walk over to them.

“I’ve got to run,” Willow said and left before Jack joined them.

Nichole smiled up at the show’s celebrity host. “What’s new?”

“I got to fly with the Blue Angels last weekend,” he said with that big toothy grin of his, which she noticed didn’t quite reach his eyes. And his eyes … well, they followed Willow as she walked away.

“For one of your shows?”

Jack was the host of nearly half a dozen shows that aired on three different networks.

“Yes. Extreme Careers,” he said. “Want an exclusive interview with me?”

“Ha, you talk to every reporter. There’s nothing exclusive with you.”

“What can I say?” he asked, again with that grin. “I liked the article you wrote about Gail and Russell. I was worried the backstage stuff might be sensationalized …”

Nichole shook her head. “Gail is one of my closest friends. I’d never print anything to hurt her.”

“I didn’t realize that. So you’re from Frisco, Texas, too?”

“Yes. I don’t remember you at all, so if that’s what you’re thinking, we’re in the same boat,” she said.

“I wondered about that. Why didn’t we ever run into each other? A pretty redhead like you … I definitely should have noticed you in high school,” he said.

“Probably because I spent most of my time in the library or in Mr. Fletcher’s classroom. And I don’t think you did either of those things.”

“Did you write anything I might remember?”

“Only if you found the weekly lunch menu fascinating,” she said.

He laughed. “Oh, that was you. I’d like to talk to you later for Extreme Careers.”

“Okay, but being a society reporter isn’t considered ‘extreme’ at all.”

“I know. I was hoping you could use your contacts to help me find a war reporter.”

She nodded. “I know a couple of guys who’ve been to the Middle East. I’ll ask around and see if they’ll talk to you about it.”

“I don’t just want to talk to them, Nic. I’d like to go over there with a reporter and do some frontline shooting, too,” he said.

She didn’t think that any of the reporters she knew would want to be on a reality television show, but she’d been wrong about Gail wanting to be on one. “I don’t know if anyone will agree to that.”

“Let me talk to them. I can be very convincing and, if not, there’s more than one way to get the story I want.”

Jack left and she talked to the bachelor and the bachelorette for a few minutes before leaving herself. One of the things Jack had said continued to resonate with her. There was more than one way to get a story and if Conner wouldn’t talk to her, she might have to look into the other members of his family, especially Jane Macafee. She was in the spotlight and might have some insights into Conner that Nichole could use for her story.

Conner sent three calls from his sister to voice mail and narrowly missed her when she showed up at his office for a surprise visit. Finally, when she tweeted about him, he couldn’t ignore her anymore. He picked up his office phone and dialed Janey’s number.

“It’s Conner,” he said when she answered.

“I know it is. Why are you avoiding me?” she asked. “I wanted to find out what happened with that redhead reporter.”

“Nothing,” he said. Jane was as bad as could be when it came to snooping into his personal life. Besides, Nichole was the last person he wanted to discuss with anyone in his family.

“Nothing? You spent a lot of time with her for nothing.”

“She was … difficult,” he said.

Jane chuckled. “Good. Sometimes I think life is a little too easy for you.”

He wished. “Did you just call to harass me?”

“You called me,” she pointed out. “I tweeted about you.”

“Which I have repeatedly asked you not to do,” he said. Whenever she mentioned him on the internet or on her show he got slammed with emails through the company website, asking if he was on Twitter or Facebook.

“Sorry, bro, but if you ignore me you must face the consequences.”

“So what did you want?” he asked.

“I’m having a dinner party tomorrow night and have an odd number of guests so I need you to come. It’s at eight so you’ll be done with work.”

“Are you filming it?” he asked. One time she’d been doing her cooking show and he’d shown up unaware that the dinner was going to be taped. He had left without saying a word to her, but they’d had a huge fight over it later. Janey didn’t understand why he still had such an aversion to the press. In her mind what had happened with their dad was over years ago. But it was different for Conner.

“No. I think we both remember what happened the last time I did that.”

“Thanks, Jane. I’d love to come to dinner then. Eight?”

“Yes,” she said. “Did you talk to the reporter?”

“Only to get her to leave. She wanted to do a story on Dad and that old scandal,” he said, which wasn’t quite true, but he didn’t want Jane talking to Nichole. His sister could be stubborn once she had an idea about something.

“Oh, that’s too bad. I thought she was doing a piece on the television show that Matchmakers, Inc. was part of.”

“She is. But she also wanted to delve into the personal side of it. Stuff like why do I own a matchmaking firm if I’m determined to stay single.”

“A question Mom and I have pondered many a time,” Jane said.

“Um … you’re single, too. Would you like to delve into your reasoning on that?”

“I haven’t met Mr. Right,” she said.

“I don’t think you’re even looking,” Conner said. “I do want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. And I suspect you are, too. We aren’t like other people who need a spouse to be fulfilled,” she said. “We learned a long time ago to depend on ourselves—and each other, of course.”

“Of course,” he agreed. He hadn’t realized that Janey felt the same way he did. He’d tried his best to shield her from the worst of the fallout with their father. “I thought I protected you from most of the family drama that made me such a loner.”

“You did. You have always been the best big brother a girl could ask for.”

“The best … that’s not what you tweeted a few minutes ago.”

She laughed as he’d hoped she would. It bothered him that his sister was as closed-off to interpersonal relationships as he was. He’d adjusted to living alone and not letting anyone get too close, but Janey was gregarious and always had a group of friends around her.

“Love you,” she said.

“Love you, too, brat. Is Mom coming to this soirée of yours?”

“No, she has a board meeting for her charity. She said if you didn’t agree to come she’d call and put the screws to you.”

“You two always team up, don’t you?”

“If we didn’t, you’d stay shut away in your office like some sort of hermit and then, when we finally did see you, who knows what you’d look like.”

“Now you’re just being silly,” he said. He liked that Jane had retained most of her upbeat personality. She’d always been a giggling little girl, but after their father left and the scandal broke there were times when Conner thought he’d never hear his sister’s laughter again. Luckily, over the years they’d moved on and slowly that specter of pain from their father had dulled.

“Yes, I am. See you tomorrow night,” she said and hung up the phone.

Conner spent the rest of the afternoon in meetings and pretending that he didn’t notice that Nichole Reynolds had tweeted about him right after Jane had. He knew that social media was the wave of the future, but personally didn’t care for it.

Which was why he continued checking to see if Nichole tweeted anything else. He didn’t know why he was so obsessed with that woman. Sure, she could kiss his socks off and just the thought of her in his arms gave him a raging hard-on, but otherwise she was just like every other woman and reporter he’d ever met.

He was kidding himself. He knew that she was different and he wanted to see her again. Except that he’d done everything in his power to make sure she didn’t come back.

He knew that he’d said some callous things to her the last time they were together. A better man would call and apologize or send flowers or jewelry, but he couldn’t be that man … wouldn’t be that man. As Janey had said, life was easier when he only depended on himself, and he wasn’t about to risk that for Nichole Reynolds, no matter what her effect on him.

Willow lived in Brooklyn in one of those brownstones that were going for millions of dollars back before the beginning of the recession. She had waited and watched the property she wanted until the market had gone soft and she’d been able to buy it. That was one thing about her friend that Nichole envied. Willow had patience. She would wait as long as it took to make something happen.

Nichole knocked on Willow’s door just as another cab pulled up and Gail Little stepped out. Gail smiled and once again Nichole was struck by how happy her friend looked. The two women hugged and said hello. Willow opened the door with her cell phone to her ear. She gestured for them to come in.

“So why did you call this emergency meeting?” Gail asked as they both entered Willow’s foyer and walked down the short hall into the kitchen.

“Willow is keeping a secret about Jack Crown,” Nichole said, opening the cabinet to get out three wineglasses. Gail opened the bottle of chilled Chardonnay she’d brought and poured three glasses.

“She is?”

“I’m not,” Willow said, entering the room. “I knew him in high school.”

“How come you never mentioned it before now?” Nichole asked.

Willow sighed and took a long swallow of her wine. “Let’s sit down if you’re going to grill me. I ordered a pizza and it should be arriving in fifteen minutes.”

“Good,” Gail said with a big smile. “Plenty of time for you to tell us all about your Jack.”

“He’s not my Jack … I tutored him when he was a junior.”

“What year were we in?” Nichole asked.

“Freshman.”

“That must have been humiliating for him,” Gail said.

Willow flushed and looked down at her glass. “I have no idea. He needed help in English. That was all.”

It didn’t take reporting skills for Nichole to know there was a lot more to the story than Willow was letting on.

“Yeah, right,” Gail said.

“Why didn’t you ever mention him to us?” Nichole asked.

“Because he was just another kid I was tutoring. You guys didn’t want to hear about that.”

“Was he cute back then?” Nichole asked. “He had to be. He has what scientists call the golden triangle. His face is perfectly symmetrical. He is beautiful,” Nichole said.

“Don’t let him hear you say that. His head might explode,” Willow said.

“That sounds like a lot more than just his old tutor talking. What happened between the two of you?” Gail asked.

Willow finished her glass of wine and poured another. “He … he was just a teenage boy and I was a stupid teenage girl who thought that just because he was nice to me in private we were friends in public.”

“Oh, Will, I’m so sorry,” Nichole said, putting down her glass to go and hug her friend. Gail joined them, rubbing Willow’s back.

“That’s too bad. He seems like a fun guy now,” Nichole said.

“You’d probably like him,” Willow said. “He keeps things light, the way you do.”

Nichole wasn’t too sure she kept things light anymore. She certainly hadn’t been able to do that with Conner. She wanted something more with him, but wasn’t sure she trusted herself.

“He’s not my type,” Nichole said, mentally comparing Jack to the clean-cut handsomeness of Conner. He’d suddenly become her fantasy man. No surprise there, given the chemistry that sizzled between them.

“Since when?” Willow asked.

“You don’t understand what I liked in my boy toys,” Nichole said.

“Liked? Do you want something else now?” Gail asked. “This is exciting. Do you have a man in your life? One you’re serious about? I think you were grilling Willow to keep us from asking you about your life.”

Nichole bit her lower lip. “Truthfully, there is a guy, but it’s complicated and I really don’t think anything is going to come of it. But I sort of wish something would.”

“How could it be complicated?” Willow asked. Then she gasped. “Oh my God, is he married?”

“God, no. Do I seem like the kind of woman who’d date a married man?”

“You said it was complicated, and you don’t let anyone get too close,” Gail said gently.

“I meant—never mind, I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, feeling hurt that her friends thought she’d get involved with someone who was married.

“I’m sorry,” Willow said. “I guess you cut a little too close with your questions about Jack and I wanted to strike back. I know you’d never have an affair with a married man.”

Nichole nodded but she wasn’t ready to forgive yet.

“Don’t be mad, Nic. We can’t always choose the people we’re attracted to. We never thought you’d do anything with a married man, but that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t fall for one,” Willow said.

“You’re right about not being able to choose who we fall in love with,” Gail added. “I never thought I’d fall in love with a playboy. I mean Russell just wasn’t my kind of guy … but then somehow I started caring for him.”

“He was your kind of guy. You just couldn’t see it because of all the flashbulbs that surrounded him,” Nichole said, letting go of her hurt.

“I had a crush on Jack in high school,” Willow blurted out. “It ended badly and I’ve been wanting to get back at him ever since.”

“Get back how?” Nichole said.

“Some kind of humiliating revenge. I thought I’d gotten past it, but I haven’t.”

“Oh, dear,” Gail said.

“Oh, dear? What are you, ninety-two?” Nichole asked. “Our BFF is contemplating revenge. We need to use stronger words here.”

Gail shook her head. “Willow isn’t going to change her mind no matter what we say, and I have a feeling it’s going to be—”

“Complicated!” Willow said. “Just like Nichole’s situation.”

The women laughed as the doorbell rang. Once the pizza was on the table, talk turned to the TV show and Nichole let Conner and how he complicated her life dominate her thoughts. There had to be another way to get her story and still get him. Because she wasn’t ready to let him slip away just yet.

Six

Conner worked up until the last moment when he could leave and get to his sister’s apartment but still be fashionably late. If Nichole had been here to see him, she’d have realized that he wasn’t a social animal. He dreaded parties and other social gatherings because he didn’t do small talk.

Yeah, right. He didn’t like them because he hated being around strangers who might know too much about his past. He didn’t know how Jane was able to survive her life in the spotlight. There were always people who wanted to prod her about the past and ask questions about how it had felt to go through that public humiliation.

Something that Conner hoped never to relive. When he was a block from Jane’s apartment, he remembered that he hadn’t picked up flowers and didn’t have a bottle of wine. And there was no way he could show up at the home of America’s leading hostess without a hostess gift. Janey would nail him for it.

“Stop at the corner, Randall,” he said to his driver. “I need to get a bottle of wine.”

“Yes, sir,” Randall said.

Conner ran into the corner store and bought the best bottle of wine they had available. It wasn’t a pricey vintage, but he knew it was one his sister liked. As he was waiting in line to pay, he caught a glimpse of Nichole’s face next to her byline in America Today that the woman in front of him was reading.

Glancing over the woman’s shoulder he saw that the article was about Jack Crown’s latest daredevil stunt. Conner had met Jack since he had been brought in to host the reality TV show, but he hadn’t had a chance to get to know the other man.

“Why don’t you buy your own copy?” the lady said, folding the paper in half and putting it on the counter.

“My apologies,” he said, embarrassed to be taken to task by the woman. But he wasn’t going to read the society column of any paper. It was little better than gossiping and he wouldn’t do it. Though, if he’d been pressed about it, he would have had to admit that Nichole’s writing style was very inviting. He’d wanted to read more.