Secrets in a Small Town by Kimberly Van Meter Page A

the simple reason that her reaction fed his ego. “How about we meet at your house? Or maybe your farm?”
    “The farm? Why would you want to meet there?” Before he could answer, she moved on with a firm shake of her head. “No. That’s not a good idea. My parents would not enjoy that at all. They don’t seem to like you very much. Though, I don’t really know why. Anyway, no, it should be your place. Besides, if you have any photos of when you were living with the Aryan Coalition, I would love to see them.”
    He did have photos. Somewhere. He supposed he’d have to look for them tonight. “Fine. Tomorrow then?”
    She nodded, pleased. “Tomorrow.”
    Owen watched as she walked barefoot back to her car, tossing the heels into the passenger seat before she climbed in. He’d spent the afternoon with Piper Sunday. And he was going to spend tomorrow with her, too.
    Oddly, the idea didn’t make him want to run the other way.
    And he knew it should.

    P IPER’S STEP BORDERED ON A JIG but she couldn’t help it. She breezed into the newspaper office and went straight to her desk, still elated that she’d managed to convince Owen to work with her.
    “You’re looking chipper. What’s the occasion?” Charlie asked, lounging against the doorjamb, his back rounding in a slouch. “Anything you’d like to share?”
    “With you? No. It’s personal.”
    “Ah, personal. So you and Garrett are having a thing?”
    She looked at him sharply. How did he know she’d been with Owen? “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she retorted coolly. “Go bother someone else with less work to do. I’m busy.”
    “So busy that you missed your interview with Councilman Olivo?” he inquired with fake concern. Her gaze flew to her large-format calendar and there it was in bright red pen. She gasped and he chuckled at her distress. “Yeah, he called, looking for you. Seemed pretty pissed off that you’d stood him up. You know how he gets. But I’m sure it’s fine.”
    Darn it. She’d meant to put the appointment and the phone number in her cell phone, but she’d been distracted and put it off for later, except later seemed to have passed by without her notice. “It’s here somewhere.” How’d she forget such an important interview? How completely appalling. Top professionals kept a myriad of dates and times and other important details in their head and yet she’d managed to blow off a major player in the city of Dayton because she’d been intoxicated by the possibility of interviewing Owen. Damn it.
    “For such a persnickety personality, you have the organizational skills of a homeless person,” Charlie observed, causing her to whirl and hiss at him.
    “Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?”
    “Not presently.”
    “Well, I don’t have time to listen to your crap. Go pester someone else.”
    “Why would I do that when pestering you is not only fun but also beneficial?”
    “Beneficial? How so?”
    “Because seeing you so riled gives me joy, which in turn causes a sweet endorphin rush and when that happens, my blood pressure lowers, which is beneficial to my health.”
    “So happy to help,” she said drily. “Now, get out of my space before I file a harassment claim against you. I don’t care if your uncle owns the paper or not—rules are rules and you’re creating a hostile work environment for me.”
    Charlie’s mouth pinched and his laughter faded. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to enjoy her victory. She found the Post-it she was looking for, but before she could celebrate, Charlie interrupted her again.
    “I think the editor might find it interesting that you’re doing something on the side that involves Owen Garrett. You know how my uncle, the publisher, feels about freelancing.”
    Yes, she knew. He’d made it very clear that he expected his reporters to save their best for his publication. Any moonlighting could be cause for termination. Technically, as long as