Firefly Lane (Firefly Lane 1)

He was at his desk, hunched over, writing furiously on a yellow legal pad. Hair fell across his profile; he impatiently tucked it behind his ear and looked up at her. "Yeah, Mularkey?"

She went to the fridge in the corner of his office and got two Henry Weinhards beers. Opening them, she handed one to him, then sat down on the edge of his cluttered desk. "You look like a man who is drowning," she said simply.

He took the beer. "It shows, huh?"

"It shows. "

He glanced at the door. "Are we alone?"

"Mutt and Carol left about ten minutes ago. "

Johnny took a long drink of his beer and leaned back in his chair. "She wont return my phone calls. "

"I know. "

"I dont get it. That night—our night together, I mean—I thought . . . "

"Do you want the truth?"

"I know the truth. "

They sat there in silence for a long time, each sipping beer.

"Its fucking awful to want someone you cant have. "

And with those few words, Kate knew: she had never had a chance with him. "Yeah, it is. " She paused, looking down at him. It was time—past time, really—for her to let go of this dream and move on. "Im sorry, Johnny," she finally said, getting up from the edge of his desk.

"What are you sorry about?"

She wished she had the nerve to answer him, to tell him how she felt, but some things were better left unspoken.

Seated in an uncomfortable chair in an unfamiliar office, Kate stared out the window at a bare, leafless tree and the gray sky behind it. She wondered idly when the last tangerine-colored leaves had fallen away.

"Well, Ms. Mularkey, you have a very impressive résumé for someone your age. May I ask why youre considering a career change to advertising?"

Kate tried to look relaxed. Shed dressed carefully for today in a plain black wool gabardine suit, with a white blouse and a silk paisley tie tamed into a floppy bow at her throat. She hoped it was a look that said professional through and through. "In my years in TV news Ive learned a few things about myself and a few things about the world. The news, as you know, is go-go-go. Were always moving at top speed, just getting the facts and then moving on. I often find myself more interested in what comes after the story than the story itself. Im better, I believe, at long-range thinking and planning. Details, rather than broad strokes. And Im a good writer. Id like to learn more about that, but I wont do it in ten-second sound bites. "

"Youve given this a lot of thought. "

"I have. "

The woman across the desk leaned back, studying Kate through a pair of trendy, bead-encrusted glasses. She seemed to like what she saw. "Okay, Ms. Mularkey. Ill discuss this with my partners and well get back to you. Just so I know, when could you start work?"

"Id need to give two-weeks notice and then Id be ready to go. "

"Excellent. " The woman stood. "Do you need a parking voucher?"

"No, thank you. " Kate shook the womans hand firmly and left the office.

Outside, Pioneer Square huddled beneath a stern charcoal-hued sky. Cars clogged the narrow, old-fashioned streets, but very few pedestrians walked past the brick-faced buildings. Even the homeless people who usually slept on these park benches and bummed smokes and money from passersby were somewhere else on this cold afternoon.

Kate walked briskly along First Avenue, buttoning up her old college coat as she went. She caught the uptown bus and got off at the stop in front of the office at exactly 3:57.

Surprisingly, the main office room was empty. Kate hung up her coat and tossed her purse and briefcase under her desk, then went around the corner to Johnnys office. "Im back. "

He was on the phone, but he motioned for her to come in. "Come on," he was saying in an exasperated voice, "how am I supposed to help you with that?" He was silent for a moment, frowning. Then, "Fine. But you owe me one. " He hung up the phone and smiled at Kate, but it wasnt the old smile, the one that had taken her breath away. She hadnt seen that one since the night with Tully.

"Youre wearing a suit," he said. "Dont think I havent noticed. Around here, that means only two things, and since I know you arent anchoring the news . . . "