This Just In.... Jennifer McKenzie

morning, but call my assistant and she’ll book you in.”

      Sabrina blinked at him. She’d called his assistant three times last week and each time she’d been shot down with the excuse that the mayor was away from the office or in a meeting and unable to be disturbed. She’d believed her the first two times, but by the third it was beginning to look more than a little circumspect. Still, it wouldn’t do to accuse him of such behavior in front of everyone. Sabrina might not have been around in a long time, but she remembered small-town loyalties and they would all lie with the mayor. She forced a civil nod. “I’ll do that. But maybe you could give me a moment now? While you wait for your order.”

      His smiled tightened, but he seemed to realize there was no gracious way to deny her request. “All right then.”

      She launched into her spiel. How the interview would be an opportunity to lay some groundwork for his future campaign. How his opponent had already agreed. How it might look to potential voters if he chose not to participate. She poured a small glass of sparkling water and handed it to him as she finished.

      He looked down at water. “What’s this?”

      “To cleanse the palate.” Her favorite coffeehouse in Vancouver always served one with the espresso and she thought she’d bring the practice to Wheaton. But it was probably too sophisticated. “You don’t have to drink it.”

      His fingers wrapped around the glass. “No, it’s a nice touch.”

      A flicker of pleasure tickled the base of her neck. So maybe not everyone in town was a lost cause. “What do you think? Can I schedule your interview for later this week?”

      “Call my assistant.” A reiteration that Sabrina understood completely: thanks, but no thanks.

      She kept her smile in place. Mr. Mayor might think he’d successfully brushed her off, but then he didn’t know her very well. She finished his order and then pulled off the green apron that doubled as a uniform and asked her coworker to handle the few people remaining in line.

      Most customers had left, on their way to work or school, and there wouldn’t be another rush until the teenagers got out of class. No reason she couldn’t take a few minutes to pursue her assignment. She came around the side of the counter to where Noah stood. “I’ll give you a hand out.”

      His blue eyes were cool. “I’ve got it.”

      “It’s no problem.” She scooped up the box of pastries before he could. “I’m due for a break anyway.”

      She waited until he picked up the coffee and then led him to the door.

      * * *

      NOAH WATCHED AS Sabrina Ryan picked her way through the crowd that still lingered in the coffee shop. He hadn’t seen her in close to fifteen years. Back then he’d been a senior and she a lowly freshman. He had a vague recollection of a pretty but young girl. Far too young for his seventeen-year-old sensibilities with his hockey scholarship to attend university in Michigan already in place.

      He sure as hell knew she hadn’t looked like this. All huge green eyes, flowing dark hair and pouty mouth. He tamped down the flash of interest that sparked. She wasn’t to be trusted. Not only had she told his family’s story to the world when it was no one’s business but theirs, she’d also been Kyle’s high school girlfriend. Totally, completely, 100 percent off-limits. No matter how gorgeous she was.

      Still, Noah appreciated the changes she’d made to the general uniform at the coffee shop. Most employees wore a plain white golf shirt with black pants and running shoes. But Sabrina’s white button-down shirt was tight and accentuated her curves. Her jeans were even tighter and he eyed them approvingly.

      He followed behind her, easily handling the box of coffee and his own espresso. Noah really didn’t need the help out to his car, but forcing her to hand over the box of pastries was likely to cause a scene. Instead, he reached out to push the front door open for her and caught a whiff of her perfume. Something spicy and sweet mixed with the heady aroma of coffee.

      The flash tried to sputter to life again. He drowned it with a large inhalation of clear, crisp air, and turned toward the back lot where his car was parked. “So what’s this about?” He kept his voice controlled and polite. Sabrina did not.

      “Let’s cut to the chase. You’re putting me off.”

      “Pardon?” He turned the full force of his feigned politeness on her. The look his mother called his mayoral face, used to convey sincerity, express concern and occasionally to put people off.

      “The interview. You’re sidestepping my request. And I know why.”

      Noah lifted an eyebrow but said nothing. He led her to a practical black sedan near the entrance and pressed his fob to unlock the doors.

      “It’s because of the article I wrote about Kyle.”

      At the mention of his younger half brother, Noah felt his facade slip but only for a moment. He regrouped and opened the back door on the driver’s side. “I think it’s a reasonable concern.”

      Sabrina sighed. “Not really. It was almost a decade ago.”

      Almost a decade since she’d announced to the town and the province that his baby brother had not only wrecked his back and his future NHL career, but that he’d gotten his teenage girlfriend knocked up. It wasn’t so easy to forget. “I don’t think you’re the best fit. Now if someone else were to do the interview, we wouldn’t have a problem.” Because he could trust the paper’s other reporter not to skewer him publicly.

      “Is this payback?” She refused to hand over the box of pastries when he reached for them, placing them behind her back. “Because it seems a little petty.”

      No, petty was lambasting your former boyfriend and your best friend in public, but Noah didn’t mention that. “Then let’s just say I think there’s too much history. A reporter should be unbiased.”

      Sabrina narrowed her eyes at him. Even so, he couldn’t help noticing the way her shirt was stretched across her chest.

      “May I have the pastries?” So he could get out of here before he took another peek at her cleavage.

      “No, you may not.” She took a step back, like she thought Noah was going to tackle her for them.

      He wouldn’t, but he also wouldn’t make the same mistake his brother had: trusting Sabrina Ryan. Sure, Kyle and Marissa were happily married with four kids, but Sabrina’s words had followed them. He still heard the rare comment from someone about how Kyle had “done the right thing.” He didn’t intend to let her write anything that might follow him the same way.

      She tilted her head to look at him. Her long dark ponytail spilled across the bright white of her shirt. Noah wondered if the strands would feel as smooth as her skin looked. Probably. He told himself he wasn’t really interested, that he was merely indulging in idle speculation.

      “What can I do to convince you it’s a good idea?”

      Nothing. There was no convincing to be done here. This was a simple question and response, and his response would be the same every time: no. “I really need to run.” Noah held out his hand for the pastries. He had a staff meeting at the dealership and they’d be eagerly awaiting his arrival and the sweets.

      “Then let’s set a time and you can be on your way.”

      “Not today.”

      Her eyebrows drew together. “Look, I’m not planning to write some hard-hitting exposé. Just a couple of softball pieces on the mayoral candidates.”

      Noah would have liked to believe her. “Is that what you told Kyle and Marissa?”

      She jerked back. “Ouch.”

      Perhaps, but it was a fair question. He waited for her response.

      Her ponytail swished as she shook her head. “That was different.”