She couldn’t believe it. “I came second?”
His pitiful gaze gave her the answer.
She hadn’t been the best candidate, after all. In their industry, Ivan stepping down so she could take his place was big and juicy news of the kind a person would never live down.
She breathed in and out and lifted her chin. “Which part are you publishing?” She motioned at the photo. “Me and Ivan dating at school, or that he withdrew from the talent contest?” Her smile was wry. “I suppose both.”
“I told Patrick not to run the story.”
Her jaw dropped. The story could boost the circulation figure of The Times to an all-time high. “Why would you put your profit and professional ethics on the line to protect my reputation?”
Leaning toward her, he lowered his voice. “I like you, Alice. I want us to be more than colleagues.”
She blinked. “What are you saying?”
“I’m not going to beat around the bush. My children are grown, and I find myself very lonely, at times. I’d like to start a new relationship. I know I’m old enough to be your father, but I still have a lot to offer. You don’t have to rush into anything. I want us to be friends. If something comes from that, well, then I’ll consider myself a lucky man.”
The waiter arrived to take their order, giving her time to gather her thoughts. She couldn’t say Henry’s interest came as a surprise. He’d always been very accommodating with her, giving her preferential treatment and front page articles. As editor-in-chief, it wasn’t his duty to get involved in her projects, but he did. He always showed up when she had appointments at the newspaper. At some stage, she’d even welcomed the idea. Henry was kind, gentle, and settled. That was before Ivan had claimed her body and made her crave things she’d never be able to ask of Henry. How Ivan touched her was her dirty little secret. With Ivan, it came naturally. She tried to picture herself with Henry, asking him to spank her so she could orgasm on a deserted stage. It was impossible. Ivan was one of a kind, but he couldn’t love her. He’d said so himself.
When the waiter left, Henry searched her eyes. “I’d be good to you, Alice. What do you say?”
“I–I don’t know.”
“Do you still love him?”
“Ivan? He broke my heart. You know how it is with first love.”
“You can love more than one person in your life. My ex-wife was my first love. I’ll always love her, but I still have enough left in me to give.”
She tugged a stray strand of hair behind her ear and picked up the spoon, playing it between her fingers. Again, she’d been offered second place. Not good enough to win an exchange program, not good enough for Ivan to love, for her mom to live, for her dad to stay, or to be someone’s first wife.
She mentally chastised herself. She’d always been a practical girl. This was the best proposition she was going to get. There was no point in wanting more when she’d been offered friendship and a caring partner. That was more than most people got. She wanted to be thankful and accept, probably would have gladly, if Ivan hadn’t walked back into her life. Whatever she and Ivan shared was short-term. There was no future in their fucking. Physical alone wasn’t enough to last. She wasn’t enough to make Ivan stay. Hadn’t been before, and nothing had changed, so why would it be different this time? All she needed was time to mourn what she was going to lose. She’d mourned a loss plenty of times before. She’d get over it, again.
Henry regarded her from over the candle on their table. “Alice?”
“I need time.”
“You’re upset.” He took her hand, his touch friendly and soothing. “I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you.”
“I’m glad you did. Thank you for not running the article.”
He smiled. “I’m doing it for a personal reason, a reason I’m very invested in.”
“This could cost you your job. If the board finds out you rejected a sensational scoop to protect a friend, they’ll—”
“Let me worry about my job.”
She pulled her hand from his and covered her face. She suddenly felt very emotional. It was a combination of joy that Ivan had cared enough to give up his scholarship for her, anger at him for never telling her, and shame at Henry’s unwanted pity. Mostly, she was disappointed with herself for her inability to feel joy over Henry’s kind proposal.
“Don’t think about the scholarship, any longer,” he said. “It’s not important.”
His soft words only made her feel worse. He didn’t get it. It was important. Very important.
“I–I don’t think I’ll be able to enjoy a meal.” She pushed back her chair and stood. Tears spurred on by her conflicting feelings threatened to spill over. The news was humiliating enough. She wouldn’t survive the added embarrassment of making a public spectacle of herself by breaking down in a restaurant, in front of Henry. “Will you mind terribly if I take a rain check?”