Stephanie Bond - Cover Me

“It really makes the cover image pop,” Nita added.

Helena studied the new look, then slid the mock-up in my direction. “Kenzie, what do you think?”

The silence was profound, although no one in the room was more surprised by her question than I. Still, the fact that it was the first time I’d been asked in a public forum for my opinion did not mean that I hadn’t been saving up. I took a deep breath.

“The more words, the better—it makes the buyer feel as if there’s a lot of content. Mix up the fonts and colors to entertain the customer’s eye, but reduce the font size of the price so it seems insignificant. Using multiple colors for the magazine title would be a nice change of pace—maybe red, white and blue for this issue. Adopting an exclamation mark at the end of the magazine title could be an effective visual cue. And an occasional short-fold cover would be an attention-getter, not to mention adding premium space for advertisers.”

I exhaled into the hush of the room, but as I glanced from one bemused face to another, I fervently wished for a rewind button. “Or not,” I murmured.

The door opened, and as much as I disliked April, I was glad for her timely return.

“I found our cover model,” she gushed. “Everyone, this is Mr. Samuel Long.”

A well-suited man with hair the color of antique brass stepped in the room and flashed an engaging grin. My vital signs stalled. It couldn’t be.

Oh. But. It. Was.

“WELCOME, Mr. Long,” Helena said, standing and extending her hand. “I’m Helena Birch, editor-in-chief here at Personality.”

“Actually, it’s Dr. Long,” Sam said with no trace of conceit. Indeed, he seemed a bit flustered by all the attention. “I apologize for the delay—I’m afraid I had a bit of a wardrobe predicament this morning.”

It was then that his gaze landed on me. I knew my eyes were as big as Ping-Pong balls, so I was thankful that he had the presence of mind not to say, “Hey, look, it’s my one-night stand.” A slight lift of his eyebrow was the only indication that he recognized me. Was that amusement in his eyes? Then his gaze lowered to my shirt—er, make that his shirt.

“A wardrobe predicament?” April tossed her hair. “Nonsense—you look terrific.”

I frowned. Down, girl. Indeed, Sam had compensated rather nicely for his missing dress shirt. Underneath his creamy tan-colored suit, he wore a brown L. L. Bean T-shirt (I knew T-shirts). He pulled his gaze away from our shirt and gave April a little smile. “Thank you. If I’ve learned nothing else from being a small-town veterinarian, I’ve learned how to be resourceful.”

“Dr. Long,” Helena said, “allow me to introduce some of my staff.” She made the rounds, with those closest to Sam rising to shake his hand. Including me.

“This is my assistant, Kenzie Mansfield.”

“Ms. Mansfield,” he said, clasping my hand in his.

The brush of his wonderfully callused fingers against mine sent a pang of nostalgia to my thighs. “Welcome, Dr. Long.”

His eyes danced and a corner of his mouth jerked. Beneath his shirt, my hives were being resurrected. Afraid that I might start panting aloud, I withdrew my hand.

“I’m happy to be here,” Sam said, then turned back to April. “But there must be some kind of mistake, because when we walked in I thought I heard you say I was a cover model?”

Helena stepped up and offered a dazzling smile. “We’ve been discussing our upcoming small-town-hero issue, and you would be perfect for the cover, Dr. Long.”

A frown marred his handsome face. “I don’t know—”

“Think of the exposure it will bring to you and your town.”

He scratched his temple and emitted a little laugh. “I believe I might have had enough exposure to last a while.”

His glance flitted in my direction, and I suspected he regretted volunteering to have his wing-ding cast for posterity. I glanced around the room for an escape route. The window looked inviting.

“You don’t have to make a decision now,” Helena cajoled. “Let us take a few photos and finish your interview, and we’ll discuss it again later after you’ve had time to consider the advantages.”

“Dr. Long,” Ron said, “April will assist you this morning during your photo shoot and interview.”

April perked up like a cheerleader, and thrust her big, round pom-poms in Sam’s direction.

“Ron,” Helena said. “I’d like for Kenzie to join April and Dr. Long. It’ll be good experience.”

Alarm took hold of me. I wasn’t sure what terrified me the most—spending the morning with April or with Sam. A choking noise erupted from my throat, but I managed to turn it into a hacking cough. “I have…something…planned this morning that I…can’t get out of.”

Helena pursed her mouth. “Kenzie, why don’t you and I get some more coffee?”

I picked up my gigantic coffee mug that was still full and followed her out of the boardroom, but we stopped a little short of the break room, as I suspected we would.

Helena crossed her arms, and pinned me to the wall with her stare. “Kenzie, earlier this week you were begging for assignments that would further your career, and when I give you one, you manufacture an excuse to get out of it. Is something wrong?”

What could I say? “No.”

“Then what do you have planned that’s more important than broadening your experience at the magazine?”

She was right. “Nothing.”

Helena nodded. “Good. Then I expect that you and Dr. Long and April will have an enlightening time.”

“Of course,” I murmured. “Thank you.”

Uncrossing her arms, Helena flicked nothing off her sleeve. “By the way, you had some clever ideas in there regarding the magazine’s cover. Put it all in a memo and have it on my desk Monday.”

Taking advantage of my speechlessness, she turned to go back to the boardroom.

“Oh, and Kenzie?”

I looked up. “Yes.”

“Try to keep April from devouring Dr. Long. We’re a newsmagazine—the last thing we need is a scandal that we’re offering compensation to our sources.”

I broke out into a warm sweat that tested my sport-scent deodorant. “Will do.”

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, April and Sam and I were on our way to photography, me lagging behind. I was a nervous freaking wreck, and April’s chattering made things worse. She hung all over Sam, and Sam looked like an animal with its leg caught in a trap. I could feel his gaze on me, and I could feel his effect on my body.

“So,” April oozed, “you’re a fireman.”

“No, I’m a veterinarian,” Sam said easily. “I’m a volunteer fireman in my spare time.”

April flapped her long, curly eyelashes. “So are there a lot of fires to put out in Jar Hollow?”

Sam grinned, warming up to the attention. “Um, thankfully, no.”

“But you saved all those people—that’s so cool.”

Two steps behind them, I rolled my eyes.

“I was in the right place at the right time,” he said, then slowed and looked back, apparently determined that I should catch up.

I picked up my leaden feet and fell in step next to them. I walked on one side of Sam, April on the other, making a big, juicy Sam sandwich. Sipping lukewarm coffee from my mug, I tried to force from my mind the image of his naked body sliding against mine. I decided it might be a good idea to join the conversation. “I assume you didn’t expect to become such a media sensation, Dr. Long?”

He shot a surprised glance my way. “She speaks.”

I flushed because he knew good and well that not only did I speak, but on occasion, I screamed.

Sam smiled and shook his head. “You’re right. Beyond the local media, I didn’t think about it. Then a freelance writer called and said he’d like to do an interview for a possible segment in your magazine. We talked on the phone for a while, but when I didn’t hear anything else, I assumed the story wasn’t picked up.” He shrugged. “Then two days ago I received a call and a plane ticket, asking me to come to the city to finalize details. So, here I am.” He looked at me with brown eyes that were so deep, I felt a bout of vertigo coming on.