I'm not sure how many people reading this are aware of the histories of both GL and Another World, but there's something of an inside joke in this chapter which I just couldn't resist putting in, and which I'll explain at the end of the chapter.
Holly awoke the next morning with a dull headache, but otherwise none the worse for wear. Dinner with Roger the night before had been great, and while she was surprised to find that Donna had had many similar experiences to her own, Holly had enjoyed getting to know her last night over cake and coffee and, in Donna's case, too much wine. Thankfully, Donna's son-in-law had been understanding. Even more thankfully, Holly had recalled her own previous experiences with too much wine (her birthday four years ago, and then the night she had too much to drink at the country club and shoved Blake, fully dressed, into the swimming pool in the middle of their latest argument about Ross had both come to mind the night before and kept her from imbibing as much and as freely as Donna had) and kept her alcohol intake at a manageable level. True, she had been just tipsy enough to go along with Donna's scheme to go to Michael's office in search of Roger that late at night, and apparently Donna had intended for Holly to serenade Roger. True, a serenade was romantic, and now Holly remembered Cass's words about not being afraid to get a little crazy when you're working to earn your way back into your soulmate's life. She wouldn't rule out the possibility of serenading Roger at a later date (if she was going to serenade him, she would really rather it was just the two of them), but it would have to be the right song, a song that said something about them and their relationship, that had some meaning for them.
She gingerly sat up, grateful that the pain in her head did not increase or throb. The bathroom door was open, the room empty. She wondered if Roger was still asleep on the couch. After splashing some cold water on her face, brushing her hair and teeth, and getting dressed, she ventured quietly into the living room of the suite.
And there was Roger, dressed and seated on the couch, reading The Bay City Herald, or at least pretending to; Holly wasn't sure which, because he lowered the paper before she had taken three steps into the room. "How are you feeling?" he asked, deciding to skip saying 'Good morning' in case it wasn't a good morning for her, although she hadn't been nearly as hammered as Donna had been the night before.
"Not too bad," Holly replied. "A slight, dull headache. Have you, ah, heard from Michael?"
"Not yet," Roger said, folding the newspaper and setting it aside. He got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen; his suite had a full kitchen with a microwave, refrigerator/freezer, oven, cupboards, and a small sink. He pulled a pitcher of ice water from the refrigerator, a glass and a bottle of aspirin from a cupboard, filled the glass with water, pried the lid off the aspirin bottle, and then brought the glass and two aspirin to Holly, who was now sitting in the armchair in the living room. She accepted them, swallowed the aspirin, chased them with several sips of water, and lowered the glass.
"Thank you," she said.
"Of course," he replied. "What would you like for breakfast?"
Holly looked at the kitchen. "Are you cooking?" she asked.
Roger chuckled. "No. They have excellent room service here. Pretty much anything you want, and you should eat."
"I guess just toast, scrambled eggs, and coffee," she said.
Roger nodded and made quick work of calling room service, and their breakfasts arrived a few minutes later. As they sat down across from each other at the small kitchen table and started eating, Holly said, "So, about last night..." Roger just smiled. "You're amused," Holly realized.
"Very," Roger replied honestly. "In all the years I've known you, I've never known you to have a really close female friend. You were with Donna Love for what, three hours last night, you apparently hit it off with her, and you ended up getting brought home by the police."
"Technically that's true," Holly said. "But Ryan is Donna and Michael's son-in-law. One of them. And I guess it was Michael's brother's daughter, or stepdaughter, that took the actual call from the security guard at Michael's office and sent Ryan in the first place, because he's her boss, and because it was Donna. This is one time I'm grateful for nepotism. If this had happened in Springfield, I'd probably still be in jail after having spent the night there."
"Bay City is another world compared to Springfield," Roger agreed. "I guess I just never thought of you as the being brought home by the police type."
Holly's eyes narrowed. "Now you're making fun of me," she said.
"I didn't get my serenade last night," he reminded her.
"That was Donna's idea in the first place. I was just tipsy enough that it sounded good at the time. Besides, I'd rather serenade you when it's just the two of us." She took a bite of her scrambled eggs and washed it down with ice water.
"Does that mean I can look forward to a serenade from you at a later date?" Roger asked hopefully, all traces of humor and teasing gone now.
"Maybe," Holly replied. "If I do, though, I don't intend to be tipsy or drunk when I do it."
"Why didn't you tie one on with Donna last night?" Roger asked. "You clearly had a good time together."
"We did," Holly agreed. "I just...The last couple of times I had too much to drink, it didn't work out so well for me." She paused, then said, "I have a confession to make. Not about last night, but...Well, do you remember about three years ago when you were at the country club with Jenna that night, and Blake told you she had slipped and fallen in the pool?" At Roger's nod, Holly focused on the tabletop. "She didn't fall into the pool. She was pushed in...by me. I was still angry about her and Ross at that point, and I got drunk at the country club, and she tried to talk to me and I got snippy with her and we had an argument, and then we wound up by the pool and I was so angry and so drunk that I pushed her in. Ironically, that was the night I realized that she was telling the truth about Ross loving her for real, even though I found out later that they were also arguing at the time because she had said 'I love you' to him and he hadn't said it back yet. But he broke up our argument and immediately started comforting Blake and defending her, and that's when I knew. That was one of the lowest points of my life, and definitely one of the lowest points of my relationship with Blake."
"Now I have a confession to make," Roger said. "I already knew you pushed Chrissy in the pool that night." Holly jerked her head up and looked at Roger, stunned. "Not because she told me," he added hastily. "She didn't. But when I found out that you'd been there, and been drinking, and the fact that Chrissy and Ross neither one would say a word about you...well, it was obvious what had happened. But that was between you and Chrissy. I knew I had to stay out of it, that neither one of you would have wanted me meddling, even if I was trying to help. And you patched things up. You're closer than ever now."
Holly sat back. "Why does this surprise me?" she wondered rhetorically. "You are the one person in the world who really knows me. Of course you knew I pushed Blake into the pool."
"One of my goals is to keep surprising you," Roger replied seriously. "In a good way, of course. In the best possible ways."
Holly heard a chiming then; the clock on the mantel was chiming the half hour, and she looked to see which half hour it was. "It's 10:30 already?" she exclaimed. "Oh, that's not good. I have to go home, shower and change, and then come back here for my meeting."
"What time is your meeting again?" Roger asked.
"2:00," Holly replied.
"Okay," Roger said. "It's 35 minutes from here to Springfield, another ten to get to your house, so that's 45 minutes. Thirty-five minutes to get back here. You know where the meeting is? How to get there and everything, I mean?"
"Yeah," Holly said. "That's another 20 minutes after getting into town."
Roger did some quick calculating in his head. "It might be a bit close, but you'll make it," he said confidently.
"Not if I don't leave right now," Holly said. "My car keys. Where are my-?" She was cut off by Roger, who had moved to the table by the suite's front door, where he picked up her purse and removed her car keys from the side pocket, holding them both up, the keys in his left hand, her purse in his right. She hurried to the door. "I must be a mess," she said, smoothing one hand through her hair.
"Not possible," Roger replied. Their fingers brushed when she took her purse and keys from him. "I figure you won't have time to call me when you get to the house, so drive safely," he said.
"I'll let you know how my meeting went tonight," she said.
"I look forward to it," he told her. "Good luck." He opened the door and held it for her.
"Thank you," she said. "I'll see you later."
"'Bye," Roger said.
A few minutes after Holly left, the phone rang. Roger picked it up. "Hello?"
"So how's your girl this morning?" asked Michael Hudson on the other end of the line.
"A slight headache, but otherwise none the worse for wear," Roger replied. "How's your girl this morning?"
"Battling the hangover from hell and channeling Tallulah Bankhead in the process," Michael said. "But that's typical Donna, and that's why she doesn't get drunk very often. She said she wouldn't have gotten hammered last night if she hadn't been having such a wonderful time that she wasn't paying attention to exactly how much she was drinking." He paused, then said, "Look, Donna doesn't know I'm asking this, and if I'm overstepping here, Fox Head, just say so and I'll drop it, but Donna's never had a female friend in her life, and certainly not one that she thinks as highly of as she already thinks of Holly. She's worried that Holly's going to be angry or embarrassed about last night and never want to speak to her again. I'm the first to admit that Donna can be a bit of a drama queen sometimes, but really, she's got a good heart. She honestly didn't mean to get Holly into any trouble last night. Thank God Josie was the officer who answered the security guard's phone call, and that she sent Ryan to deal with it."
"Holly and I were talking about that just a little while ago," Roger admitted. "Had this happened in Springfield, that wouldn't have been what happened last night, and not only because Holly and I don't have any family on the Springfield police force. And I'm sure Donna does have a good heart. You wouldn't love her so much if she didn't. I can't say for absolute certain, but if I know Holly half as well as I think I do, she's not going to banish Donna to Siberia because of what happened last night. I guess showing up at your office so late was Donna's idea, but Holly said herself that she was just tipsy enough to think it was a good idea and to go along with it. Holly's never had a female friend in all the years I've known her, and she did have a good time last night, she said...at least until the police got involved."
"I can't believe the police had to bring them home," Michael said, laughter in his voice, "even though it was Ryan. Donna thinks the physical feelings of the hangover are awful, she has yet to speak to Victoria."
"Are your daughters going to bust Donna's chops for last night?" Roger asked.
"Marley won't," Michael said certainly, "but Victoria is already busting my chops over it because Donna is still too indisposed to take Vicky's calls herself, and despite my warning her not to go full throttle with this on Donna, she'll do it because that's who she is. What about your daughter?"
"I don't think she's going to find out about this," Roger said. "I'm certainly not going to tell her, and I doubt that Holly will either. If she knew, she'd have a few things to say, but Chrissy's got enough on her plate, with this whole Dinah situation ticking like a time bomb. I just hope Ross doesn't do the stupid thing and push her away."
"It's hell when your daughter suffers heartbreak," Michael agreed. "As a father, your instinct is to rush right in there and fix everything, but when it comes to matters of the heart, you can't fix it. All you can do is be there to dry their tears and listen to them. We all went through the wringer for a couple of years there with Victoria and Ryan, but it finally all worked out. I'll keep a good thought for your daughter and her husband."
"Thanks, Michael."
"Actually, I was calling for another reason. Business related. You said that you used to co-own a TV station with Holly back in Springfield, right?"
"Yes, WSPR."
"Well, I happen to know that there's a TV station here in town that's for sale."
"Is that so?"
"Yup. KBAY. I'm not sure if you're into diversifying your interests, but I remember a little something about how your mind works. I know that you're working with me now, Mr. Vice President of Internet Acquisitions. And I know that Holly is looking for a new job herself."
"Connect the dots," Roger said. He pulled a pen and a pad of paper from the desk drawer. "Tell me more. Who's selling the station?"
"Rachel Cory," Michael replied.
"As in Cory Publishing? Didn't she marry somebody else a few years back?" Roger asked.
"She's divorcing him. A wise move, since the man is a career criminal. He's going to be a special guest of Club Fed for the next twenty-five to life," Michael said.
"That's a tough break for her," Roger said sympathetically.
"Not the toughest one she's ever had in that department," Michael said. "And before you ask how I know all this, she's the mother of one of my sons-in-law and the stepmother to the other, and Ryan's on her side."
"She's Ryan's stepmother?" Roger asked.
"She's the only mother he's ever known, and considering the psychotic nut case his birth mother was, it's a blessing," Michael said.
"Harrison!" Roger exclaimed suddenly. "Is he any relation to the disgraced Senator, Grant Harrison? Another guest of Club Fed?"
"Half-brothers," Michael said, his voice clipped. "And that bastard damn near got Victoria, Ryan, and their son Kirk all three killed, so I'd just as soon not talk about him. He's rotting in prison where he belongs, and has no chance of parole."
"The father's in prison too, isn't he?" Roger asked.
"Spencer Harrison, yes," Michael said.
"So Rachel's divorcing Spencer?" Roger asked.
"No, she's divorcing Ryan's biological father, Carl Hutchins," Michael said. "Spencer is Ryan's stepfather, and the man who raised him, but he always blatantly favored Grant over Ryan because Grant is Spencer's biological son."
Roger whistled low. "No wonder Ryan kept the Harrison name," he remarked. "Okay, so Rachel Cory is selling KBAY. Do you have any other particulars?"
"Not many," Michael said. "Your best bet is to get a meeting with her yourself."
"I think I will," Roger mused. "I'll see when I can get in to meet with her. Thanks for the heads up about KBAY, and don't worry about Donna and Holly. They'll still be friends."
"Anytime, and good to know," Michael replied. He paused, then said, "Uh oh. Tallulah beckons. Gotta run. I'll talk to you later."
"Talk to you later," Roger echoed, then hung up.
He resumed his seat on the couch and leaned back, getting lost in thought. He was beginning to give serious thought to relocating permanently to Bay City once this whole mess with Dinah and Hart was resolved and he was divorced from Dinah. Of course, a lot of that would depend on Holly. Where Holly went, Roger would gladly follow. He knew that for their relationship to have any realistic chance of lasting for the long haul, which is what he wanted more than anything in the world, they could not go back to how things were the last time they were together. Roger had made the mistake of putting Spaulding ahead of Holly back then; actions spoke louder than words, and as much as he had said that she and their relationship were what mattered most to him, his actions had shown the exact opposite, and his actions had caused the breakdown in their relationship that had split them apart. Whether it was luck, serendipity, or the greatest coincidence of all time finding Michael Hudson in Bay City, Roger didn't care. But he knew and trusted Michael, and Michael knew and trusted him. He had a good job with Michael, a chance to make a lot of money legitimately, maybe even buy into the company someday, make it Hudson-Thorpe Enterprises, and he knew that Michael would never cheat him or screw him over, just as he knew that he would never cheat Michael or screw Michael over. The number of people that Roger Thorpe trusted could be counted on one hand, and truthfully he wouldn't even need all five fingers, but Michael Hudson was one of those people. Chrissy was another, but she had her own life and family now, and Roger was happy that his little girl was finally happy, except for the recent strife over Dinah. He was a part of her life, and a part of his grandsons' lives; not as big a part as he would like to be since he was embroiled in this mess with Dinah and Hart, but once that was resolved, he would be a bigger part of their lives. If Roger moved to Bay City, it was only a 35-minute drive from Springfield, close enough for visits that were many and often.
But what about Holly? Would she want to stay in Springfield? The only thing really holding her there was Chrissy and the boys. She was investigating a business opportunity here in Bay City herself. If Roger could get Rachel Cory to sell him KBAY, Holly could manage the station. Whoa, there, you're getting ahead of yourself, he cautioned himself. You're learning to trust her all over again...but you know damn well that you want to trust her again, with your heart and with your life. You want to marry her someday, if she'll have you. But you can't push her into this. You can offer her the job if you end up owning the station, but you don't want her to think you're dictating to her or telling her what to do.
The first step was a meeting with Rachel Cory, to see if she was even interested in selling him KBAY, if he could even afford it. There was the matter of returning Dinah's trust fund, and he would undoubtedly be hit with a hefty divorce settlement for Dinah when the time came, not that he cared about that; it was only money, he could always make more, and he would pay any amount to legally free himself from Dinah, no matter how much that amount was.
He needed to see if he could afford to buy KBAY, and if Rachel Cory would sell it to him, and in order to do that, he would need to schedule a meeting with her.
Cory Publishing was listed in the phone book. Roger dialed the main number. "Cory Publishing, how may I direct your call?" a man answered.
"Rachel Cory, please," Roger said.
"One moment, please."
A few seconds later, the phone was ringing again. On the second ring, a woman answered, "Rachel Cory's office, how may I help you?"
"I would like to schedule a meeting with Mrs. Cory regarding KBAY," Roger replied, "as soon as possible."
He heard pages being turned and presumed this woman was Rachel Cory's secretary and was looking at her appointment calendar. "I can get you in this afternoon at 4:30," she said.
"That will be fine," Roger said.
"And your name, sir?"
"Roger Thorpe."
"All right, Mr. Thorpe, Mrs. Cory will see you at 4:30 this afternoon."
"Thank you very much," Roger said before hanging up.
Of course, Roger had no way of knowing that Holly's meeting about a new business opportunity was with Rachel, and was about buying KBAY, any more than Holly had any clue that Roger had just scheduled a meeting with Rachel himself, two-and-a-half hours after her own meeting, about buying KBAY.
But before the day was out, Rachel Cory would meet them both separately and be drawn into their lives and their story as Michael and Donna, and Cass and Frankie, were.
Holly, meanwhile, had gotten ready for her meeting and had enough time to pack a few things-not that she was planning on any more nights drinking with Donna Love and getting escorted back to The Bayshore Hotel by Donna's son-in-law the police commissioner-before driving back to Bay City. Roger was spending most of his time there, and would be spending more time there now that he was working with Michael Hudson, and Holly was looking into buying the local TV station so she could manage it. I practically have one foot out of Springfield already, she thought as she drove back to Bay City. Of course, it's up to Roger. Wherever he goes, I'll go...even if it's back here. It didn't matter where Roger was-Timbuktu, the dark side of the moon, or anywhere in between, wherever he was, she would go, because she just wanted to be with him. Blake and Kevin and Jason were here in Springfield; so was Hart's son Peter. But Roger and Holly both had a lot of baggage here in Springfield too: the Spauldings, their company, various exes of each of them. Bay City wasn't far. They'd still see Blake and the boys plenty. It's not like Blake was keeping them here. She and Ross had their own life and family. Roger and Holly didn't have to live in Springfield anymore. Unless Roger really wants to, Holly silently amended. Just take it one step at a time. You're still earning back his trust. If you buy KBAY, you can still live in Springfield and commute. When the time comes, you're going to have to talk this all out with Roger and you're going to have to make the decision on where to live together.
She arrived in Bay City then, and twenty minutes later, she was pulling her car into a spot in the parking garage at Cory Publishing. She had arrived for her meeting with ten minutes to spare.
A brunette woman in her early thirties with green eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses was seated at the receptionist's desk outside Rachel Cory's office. She looked up from her computer and greeted Holly with a smile. "Hi, how may I help you?" she inquired cheerfully.
"My name is Holly Lindsey, I have a 2:00 appointment with Mrs. Cory," Holly replied.
"Yes, Ms. Lindsey," the receptionist said. "Have a seat. Mrs. Cory is out of her office at the moment, but she'll be back shortly."
"Thank you," Holly said, taking a seat and picking up the latest issue of Brava magazine, a Cory publication, from the end table next to her chair.
She was slowly, idly flipping through the magazine when she heard an indignant female voice exclaim, "I am not a child!"
"Well, you're certainly acting one," retorted another, older female voice. "You cannot seriously believe that is proper attire for work, Amanda."
The younger woman, Amanda, a blonde in her early thirties wearing a black leather miniskirt, fishnet stockings, five-inch black heels, and a leopard print blouse, stormed into view before spinning on her heel (Holly wondered how she managed to do that without falling on her butt) and glowering at the woman behind her, a woman with dark brown, shoulder-length hair about Holly's age, who was frowning back at her. "I already told you, I have a date right after work and I don't have time to go home and change!" Amanda exclaimed.
"You couldn't bring that outfit with you and wear something more suitable for the workplace and change before leaving here?" the older woman asked.
"It didn't occur to me," Amanda said snidely.
The older woman released a put-upon sigh. "I'm beginning to think Iris has a point about you."
"Oh, that's terrific, Mom. Take Iris's side over mine. You're my mother, and she hated you from the moment she met you, the entire time you were married to Daddy!" Amanda exclaimed.
"Iris and I have reached a new understanding in the past few years," Amanda's mother replied. "And she has settled down considerably, whereas you-"
"So now I'm the black sheep of the family?" Amanda asked. "That's just great. Thanks a lot, Mom. And you wonder why I don't come home more often!" Amanda then flounced away overdramatically.
Amanda's mother sighed and shook her head. "Whoever said it's supposed to get easier when they're grown was lying," she said aloud to no one in particular. Holly sympathized with the woman on that score; of all the difficulties she and Blake had ever had in their relationship, the worst ones had come once Blake was grown. The woman then addressed the receptionist. "I'll be in my office, Amy. Let me know when my two o'clock gets here."
"She's already here, Mrs. Cory," Amy replied, looking at Holly, and the woman, who Holly now knew was Rachel Cory, followed Amy's gaze to Holly, still seated in her chair and waiting for her meeting.
Rachel reversed course as Holly stood up, and greeted Holly with a warm smile and a firm handshake. "Rachel Cory," she said. "I apologize for that little scene with my daughter. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Holly Lindsey, it's a pleasure to meet you too, and I have a grown daughter of my own, so believe me, I understand," Holly replied as they shook hands while Amy answered the ringing phone on her desk.
"Mrs. Cory," Amy piped up then, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's a problem with the issue of Brava that has just gone to press that requires your immediate assistance." She looked at Rachel and Holly apologetically when they both turned to look at her.
"Where do they need me?" Rachel asked.
"Typesetting," Amy replied.
Rachel nodded. "I'm sorry for the delay," she said to Holly. "Amy will show you in to my office, and you can wait there. I'll be back just as soon as I can." Then Rachel hurried off to fix the problem in typesetting.
"Right this way, Ms. Lindsey," Amy said. She opened the double doors to Rachel's offices, and Holly followed her inside. "Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, bottled water?" Amy offered.
"No, thank you," Holly replied.
"I'll be right outside if you need anything," Amy said before taking her leave, closing the doors behind her.
Alone in Rachel's spacious office, Holly took a good look around. Several pieces of sculpture were scattered around the office. On the wall above the couch hung a large portrait that had to be of Rachel's family, numbering at least twenty people. Everyone in the portrait, kids and adults, wore white button-down shirts and light blue jeans. Rachel was seated in the middle of the group, with a baby boy about eight months old on her lap. Holly recognized Ryan Harrison in the picture, and when she saw two blonde women who looked identical but for the fact that one wore her hair in a ponytail and the other wore hers long and loose, tumbling just past her shoulders, she realized those women must be Donna and Michael's daughters, Rachel's daughters-in-law. The couch sat in front of a low coffee table, and the conversation group of furniture also included two overstuffed armchairs.
Rachel's desk held several papers and folders, and a grouping of three large, framed photographs that she could see whenever she was seated at her desk. One of the pictures was of Rachel and an older woman Holly guessed was her mother; the second picture was of Rachel surrounded by a group of adults that must have been her children and stepchildren. Ryan was also in that picture, standing behind Rachel's chair with his hands on her shoulders, and he was flanked by a man with black hair about the same age and a man with blond hair about a decade younger. A fortyish man with strawberry blond hair and a warm smile stood next to the man with black hair, one arm slung about the black-haired man's shoulders. Seated next to Rachel was a very pregnant blonde woman in her early thirties, and on Rachel's other side was Amanda, who looked considerably less happy than everyone else in the picture. Seated next to Amanda was a polished blonde woman who looked to be about Rachel's age, with an air of sophistication about her that reminded Holly of Alexandra Spaulding, except that the woman in the photo looked genuinely happy to be there, and not as guarded as Alexandra always looked.
But it was the third picture that really caught Holly's eye. This picture was in the center of the desk, directly at Rachel's line of sight when she was seated in her desk chair, with the picture of Rachel and her mother to its left, and the picture of Rachel and her children and stepchildren to its right. Rachel was in the picture, in a gorgeous white long-sleeved dress covered with silver beads. Silver earrings dangled from her ears, and she looked a few years younger and considerably lighter than she had looked in person just a few moments ago when Holly had formally met her. Her hair was the same length in the picture that it was now, but she had a frizzy, curly perm, which made Holly think the picture was from sometime in the late 1980s, when more women than not had those frizzy curly perms.
But it was the look on Rachel's face, and the man in the picture with her, that made that photograph catch Holly's eye. For in the picture, Rachel wore a beaming smile that seemed lit from within. Her right hand rested, palm flat, on the chest of the tuxedo-clad man standing beside her, right over his heart, and her left arm was stretched across his broad shoulders, her left hand dangling off his left shoulder so that her wedding and engagement rings were visible on her third finger.
The man in the picture cut a dashing figure in his crisp black tuxedo with its perfectly knotted black bow tie, the pristine white of his shirt cuffs, pocket square, and the white cloth of his tuxedo shirt visible offsetting the midnight black of his jacket, shirt studs, and tie. He was a good twenty-five years older than Rachel, his gray hair worn in a brush cut, his darker mustache perfectly trimmed above a dazzling smile of pure happiness. Both of his arms were wrapped around Rachel's waist, his left arm on the outside so that his gold wedding ring, matching the one Rachel wore, was visible on his third finger. They were standing so closely together that their sides were touching. And as a touch of whimsy, a long streamer made of several strands of curled gold ribbon, the sort that you would throw at either a New Year's Eve party or the deck of a departing cruise ship, dangled from the man's left shoulder, standing out in stark contrast against the ebony of his jacket.
Surely this isn't the man Rachel is now in the process of divorcing, Holly thought, because these two people radiated love and happiness in this photograph. Their eyes, their smiles, their body language, the way her hand rested on his heart and her other arm wrapped itself around his shoulders, the way his arms enveloped her in his embrace, firmly, strongly, but not in a stifling or smothering way. No, Rachel was in this man's arms because she wanted to be, because she belonged there, because she loved him with every fiber of her being, and this man was holding Rachel close, one hand familiarly splayed across her lower back, his fingers curving around her hip, because he belonged with her just as surely as she belonged with him, because he loved her with everything in him.
Holly was so caught up in looking at the picture of Rachel and this man that she was jolted from her reverie when the doors opened and Rachel walked in, brushing off her annoyance at whatever the problem she had just dealt with was as if she were shooing away a pesky fly buzzing about her head. "I apologize for your wait," Rachel began. She stopped when she saw Holly standing behind the desk, looking at the photographs. "I see you've met my family," she said proudly. "I have to say, it being just Mom and me for so long, I never thought I'd wind up the matriarch that I am. I didn't become a big sister until I had two children of my own." Rachel walked over to the credenza, the top surface of which Holly noted was completely covered in framed photographs, and plucked one from the front row, handing it to Holly. "You can tell the age difference between Nancy and me right away. We almost look like three generations in this picture, but we're not. I just happen to be almost thirty years older than Nancy." Indeed, the older woman in the picture on Rachel's desk was in this picture, with Rachel beaming on her right, and a pretty blonde girl in her late teens, the aforementioned Nancy, on her left. "And now that Nancy has moved back to Bay City from Arizona, the whole family is together again," Rachel concluded.
"Your mother must be very proud," Holly said as she handed the picture back to Rachel.
"I'm sure she is," Rachel said. Her smile now took on a bittersweet tone. "We lost her three years ago."
"I'm sorry," Holly said, and she genuinely was. Rachel and her mother must have been close, since it was only the two of them for so long.
"Mom didn't raise me or Nancy to feel sorry for ourselves, and the last thing she would want is for us, any of us, including her grandchildren, to waste our lives in mourning," Rachel said. "But I admit, I still often ask myself what Mom would do...whenever I'm not asking myself what Mac would do." A shadow descended in Rachel's eyes now. "I'm glad that Mom was still here and still healthy enough to get me through losing Mac," she said. "I don't think I would have survived it without her, and without my children, and then my stepchildren all either came into my life or came back into my life, and the number of grandchildren grew, and then there's my step-great-granddaughter, but she calls me 'Aunt Rachel.' I never thought that would happen either, considering what Iris and I thought of each other for most of our lives." The shadow left Rachel's eyes now as she went on, "And I doubt I'm through having grandchildren. Ryan really wants at least one little girl, and Matthew doesn't have any children yet, he's my baby. Although some baby, he's 28 years old now. But I'm sure you didn't come here to listen to me brag on my family." Rachel put the picture of herself with her mother and sister back on the credenza and headed over to the couch, where she sat down and kicked off her shoes. Holly followed Rachel to the couch and sat down on the other end of it opposite Rachel, but kept her shoes on. "So, you're interested in buying KBAY," Rachel began as she tucked her feet underneath her, rested her elbow on the top of the couch, and propped her head on her hand.
"Yes, I am," Holly said.
"I am looking to sell the station," Rachel confirmed. "I'm in the middle of a divorce."
"So am I," Holly admitted.
"Really," Rachel said. "I'm sorry."
"Well, the whole marriage was a mistake, so actually, the divorce is the easy part," Holly reflected.
"I know how that goes," Rachel said. "The marriage I'm ending was a mistake as well. Not the first mistake I've made in that department by any means, but the only times it wasn't a mistake were with Mac. He was my soulmate."
"The one man that you can't live without no matter what, no matter how difficult things ever got, no matter what happened between you in the past, no matter how you hurt each other before," Holly said.
"Exactly," Rachel replied. "Clearly you speak from experience."
"Oh yes," Holly said. "I'm in the process of earning back the trust of my own soulmate. It took me so long to fully realize that he's where I belong, and I had to make several mistakes before I did realize it, but now I know."
"That sounds familiar," Rachel said.
"Did you ever throw the absolute right man over for the absolute wrong one?" Holly asked, feeling a kinship with Rachel, but in a different way than she had hit it off with Donna the night before.
"Actually, yes," Rachel said, remembering Mac, and Mitch Blake, and what a mess she had made of all of their lives, including her own. After that debacle, she hadn't thought she'd ever be with Mac again, as much as she wanted him back when she finally came to her senses, as her mother Ada had always put it. But Mac had loved her enough to forgive her, and she and Mac had decided not to waste any more time apart when they were always far happier together than they ever were apart or with anyone else.
"Mac?" Holly asked.
"He's the absolute right man I threw over," Rachel said, feeling pinpricks of regret at that lost time all over again.
"But you were able to get back together after that?" Holly asked.
"Yes," Rachel replied. "Of course, I had to literally go blind in order to see what was real."
"I'd prefer not to go that far," Holly remarked dryly, eliciting a laugh from Rachel.
"I was in a car accident," Rachel said after she recovered herself. "I lost my eyesight as a result, and the doctors weren't at all sure it was going to come back. Of course Mac was there, he came to see me in the hospital, and he took care of the kids. But I was so stubborn, too stubborn for my own good, and too proud. We weren't together at the time, but Mac wanted to be there for me, only I didn't want him to see me like that. So I did what I always did in those situations: I got angry. Railed at Mac. Sent him away, banished him from my life. He could be there for Amanda and Matthew, and he was friends with my mother, and he was the father that really raised my oldest son Jamie, who was just starting out on his own by that point, so he could be in Jamie's life and Mom's life and take care of Amanda and Matthew until I could learn to do it on my own without my eyesight, but under no circumstances was he to come anywhere near me.
"And thank God that wonderful, amazing man didn't listen to a word I said. He always knew me better than I knew myself. And the lengths he went to..." She trailed off, a faraway look in her eyes, clearly lost in a happy memory.
Part of Holly hated to ask, but the bigger part of her had to ask. "What lengths did Mac go to?"
Rachel had fully been expecting the question, and she found a great deal of comfort in her memories of Mac these days. As great a mistake as she made marrying Carl Hutchins in the first place, the divorce was proceeding fairly smoothly, and Rachel was reclaiming her own life, returning to her artistic roots, spending time with her family. She sensed that Holly Lindsay had a story about her own soulmate that would rival the saga that Rachel and Mac had lived over their quarter century together and apart (and together and apart, and then together until Mac's death parted them), so she didn't mind sharing part of her own story with Holly.
"I had no eyesight whatsoever," Rachel reiterated. "So Mac shaved off his mustache, hired a dialect coach to teach him to speak with a believable British accent, and put a bandage on his index finger to cover a supposed deformity and began volunteering at the hospital as a man named John Caldwell so that he could be with me without my knowing he was with me. He did this for months. Everyone else knew that John Caldwell was really Mac-my mother, my son Jamie, my doctors; Amanda and Matthew were still too little to realize what was going on, so all they saw was that their daddy had shaved off the mustache he always wore-but no one told me. In fact, when I interrogated Vivien, our maid, about what John Caldwell looked like after he left the house after one of his visits, Vivien got so desperate and panicked that she described the first man she saw: President Reagan, on the cover of Time on the coffee table." Holly and Rachel both laughed at this.
"You got your eyesight back eventually," Holly said.
"Yes," Rachel said, "thank God. It came back gradually over a period of several hours. I was expecting another visit from John Caldwell, and I had started having feelings for him, which confused me because I was still in love with Mac, but at the time I seriously believed that Mac had removed himself from my life as I had ordered him to do after my accident. John Caldwell seemed to like being around me, and he was always very gentle and caring with me, very solicitous, and a perfect gentleman...which, of course, were all characteristics of Mac's.
"So I was eagerly awaiting John Caldwell's arrival, and then he walked in, and I could see him for the first time in all those months, and it was Mac. It was Mac with a British accent, no mustache, and a bandage on his index finger. And it was in that moment that I realized just how much he loved me, to go that far, to go to all that trouble to be around me after I got mad and threw him out of my hospital room. After everything we had put each other through, and even after I was so proud and stubborn, bordering on arrogance, trying to keep him from seeing me so weak and so...not who I usually was. That's when I finally truly understood that the only thing Mac needed me to be was myself, warts and all. That's who he loved. When I told him I could see him, he was so happy he cried. We both did. He confessed that he was going to have Caldwell go away, and then he was going to come back into my life, but my sight came back before he could send John Caldwell off somewhere. And when I asked him why he did it, he said he did it because he loved me. In fact, he told me that he had realized that he was never going to be over me, and that fact made him happier than anything ever had or ever would."
"That's exactly how I feel about Roger," Holly said.
"It's how I felt about Mac too," Rachel replied. "We got married for the third and final time four months later, and this time our marriage lasted until death did us part."
"That's what I want," Holly confessed. "I want Roger back. I want to be married to him. We have some things to work out yet, and a few outside issues to deal with too, but he's worth it. He's also got a new job of his own here in Bay City, at Hudson Enterprises, and since he'll be spending more of his time here, I want to spend more of my time here as well. I do have experience running a TV station-"
"That's it!" Rachel exclaimed, interrupting Holly. "When Cass told me your name, you sounded familiar, but I couldn't think where I knew you from. I didn't actually know you until today, but I remembered the name. You used to run WSPR in Springfield, didn't you?"
"Yes," Holly replied.
"WSPR routinely beat KBAY in the ratings when you were in charge there, as I recall," Rachel said. "Perhaps you can reverse KBAY's ratings fortunes. True, we're a respectable second place, behind WOAK in Oakdale, but KBAY has been a respectable second place for almost fifteen years. My son Matthew was working at KBAY, but he's decided to leave the station and go into the newspaper business."
"That's ironic, I'm leaving the newspaper business to return to television, or at least I hope to," Holly said.
"Well, my stepdaughter Paulina McKinnon works at KBAY, she's a producer on the news, but she's on maternity leave until September," Rachel said.
"Congratulations. Boy or girl?" Holly asked.
"Boy. Thomas Mackenzie McKinnon. They're calling him 'Mack,'" Rachel said proudly. "Anyway, Paulina, being a new mother, didn't want the responsibility of being the station manager. My stepson Sandy used to run the station, but he and his family have been settled in San Francisco for years and have no interest in moving back to Bay City, only visiting for holidays and a week or two in the spring or summer as their schedules permit. And I decided it was time for me to return to my professional roots. I'm a sculptor. I haven't had the time for it in years between KBAY and Cory Publishing. I'll still be a part of Cory Publishing, but my stepdaughter Iris will be taking over as CEO and focusing on the day-to-day running of the company to give me more time for my art, and I really need to get moving on this, because I have a showing in December, so let's get down to brass tacks, Holly."
"All right, Rachel," Holly agreed. Holly named a figure. "Of course, I won't actually have the entire amount of capital until my divorce is final, which should be sometime in late August. At this point, we're just waiting for a date on the docket in Springfield."
"You're very lucky. My divorce isn't going to be final much before November 1," Rachel said.
"Something to be thankful for a few weeks later," Holly pointed out.
"That's true," Rachel replied. "And we always have big Thanksgivings. Given the size of our family, it's impossible not to. Do you have children?"
"A daughter. Blake," Holly replied. "And two grandsons, Kevin and Jason. They were just born four months ago. Fraternal twins. You?"
"Seven grandchildren as I mentioned, more on the way eventually, I'm sure," Rachel replied. "For right now, though, Jamie has two boys, Steven and Christopher. Amanda has a daughter, Allie. Sandy has a daughter and a son, Maggie and Alex. Paulina just gave birth to Mack, and Ryan has Kirk. Biologically, I have two sons, Jamie and Matthew, and a daughter, Amanda. Mac had a daughter, Iris, who used to be my enemy but the nature of our relationship has changed drastically since we lost Mac. I would even call her a friend sometimes. And his son Sandy, I mentioned before, lives in San Francisco with his wife and kids. Then Mac's daughter Paulina found us several months after Mac died. She was raised in an orphanage and foster care, and she missed out on knowing her father, but she's just as much my daughter as Amanda. She's the daughter of my heart. And then there's Ryan, my soon-to-be-ex-husband's son. He didn't grow up with a mother either, and...well, that's a whole other long, unpleasant story, but thankfully we all survived her reign of terror. I know that Ryan sees me as a mother. He's very good friends with both Jamie and Matthew, and he's stepfather to Jamie's oldest son Steven, so I see him as my son. Then Iris has a grown son, Dennis, who has a daughter, Sarah, and there's Iris's husband Hank Kent and stepson Tommy. Or Tom, as he likes to be called now that he's 14. He'll be a freshman in high school in the fall. And then there's Sam and Olivia. Sam is my former son-in-law. He was married to Amanda. The marriage didn't work out, but he's happily married now to Olivia, and they have a son, Brian, and they're raising Sam and Amanda's daughter Allie."
"Wow, that's a really big family," Holly said. "What, do you rent a hall for the holidays?"
Rachel laughed. "No need. Mac and I made sure we had a very big house," she replied. "I spent my whole life looking for the place where I belonged, and I found it with Mac. And now it's my job to give all of our children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren when they come along a place to belong." Rachel sat up now. "Getting back to KBAY, your offer is more than fair. Matthew can stay at the station until you're ready to take over. He's marshaling his own resources to buy into The Bay City Herald and needs a bit more time to get his own amount of capital organized. Now, about the station itself..."
They spent the next hour discussing KBAY's viewing area, programming, which shows were syndicated and which shows came from the network affiliate in New York, their ratings, their advertising, and the contract status of their on-air talent on the noon, 6:00, and 10:00 newscasts. Generally speaking, it was old hat to Holly, and she knew that she could do well with and at KBAY, and more than that, that she wanted to do well with and at KBAY. This time, the station would be all hers. Not that she hadn't enjoyed working with Roger at WSPR...some of the time, at least...but he had his Internet acquisitions and big business with Michael. Her having KBAY would be a good complement: something that she was good at and enjoyed and something that was just hers, the way that Roger was good at and enjoyed big business and liked working with Michael.
"So then we have a deal?" Holly asked.
"As I said, your offer is more than fair," Rachel replied. "I accept it. I'll have Cass draw up the necessary papers, and waiting another couple of months won't be a problem for me, or for Matthew. So congratulations, you've got yourself a television station, Holly."
They shook hands again. "Thank you, Rachel," Holly said.
"Thank you," Rachel corrected. "You taking the station off my hands frees me up to return to my art, which is my great love after Mac and my family." She paused, then said, "Will you be moving to Bay City?"
"That depends on Roger," Holly replied. "The commute from Springfield is doable, and we're not that far yet. But wherever he is, that's where I want to be, and hopefully we will eventually be there, wherever 'there' is, together."
"I was never the one being wooed. It was always Mac. Well, except for the time I saved his life. I realized that his new wife, since we were between marriages at the time, was poisoning him to try and kill him for his money. For all that Iris used to accuse me of being a fortune hunter, I wouldn't have cared if Mac didn't have two dimes to rub together and dug ditches for a living. That was not the case with this other woman, however. When I figured it out, I was frantic. I had to get to him, I had to get him away from Janice, no matter what it took. It was a close thing, it was a very close thing..." She trailed off now, looking troubled. "But I did it. I got to Mac in time. Just. He recovered from being poisoned." Rachel shook her head, banishing the scary and unpleasant memory of Mac nearly dying at the hands of this Janice woman. She looked at Holly and smiled. "Good for you for working to earn your way back into Roger's life. I hope the two of you are able to make it work."
"So am I," Holly said. "For the first time in my life, I know what I want. I'm taking a page from my daughter's book. When she knew what she wanted, she went after it wholeheartedly and sincerely. It worked for her. I'm hoping it works for me."
"Do you think we could introduce my daughter to yours? It sounds like Amanda could learn a thing or two from Blake," Rachel said.
"Oh, Blake wasn't always the way she is now. We had a very rocky relationship for several years, and for several reasons," Holly replied. "When she started to find her way is when our relationship started to improve."
Rachel smiled ruefully. "I guess that's part of the problem. Amanda hasn't found her way yet."
"It took Blake a long time too," Holly sympathized. She stood up, so Rachel did too, after slipping her shoes back on.
"You will keep me posted on how it's going for you and Roger, won't you?" Rachel asked hopefully. "I'd like to know. I'm rooting for the two of you. And if you ever need someone to talk to about the whole situation..."
"I will," Holly replied. "Thank you, Rachel. For everything."
"You're welcome," Rachel said as she walked Holly to the door. "And good luck with Roger."
After Holly left, Rachel decided to run down the street for an iced tea, and she left on the elevator with her receptionist Amy, who had a dental appointment and was leaving early to keep it. While Rachel was gone, Roger arrived for his own meeting with her. Seeing her office doors closed, and no one at the receptionist's desk, he sat down to wait in the reception area, figuring either the receptionist or Rachel Cory herself would show up soon.
Someone did show up, but it was Amanda Cory, and she zeroed in on Roger, sitting there flipping through the same issue of Brava that Holly had flipped through earlier, very much liking what she saw. She was carrying a manila folder with her latest story inside, having just had it rejected by the editor-in-chief, who also happened to be her half-sister Iris Wheeler Kent, and was bringing it to Rachel to complain to her about Iris, but seeing Roger sitting there, Amanda no longer cared about her story, or about complaining about Iris to her mother.
Thinking quickly, she let the folder under her arm fall open and the papers inside scatter all over the floor. "Oops," she said, "how clumsy of me."
Roger glanced up from the issue of Brava he was perusing just in time to get a full-on view of Amanda Cory, age 31, bending low, her leather miniskirt-clad butt sticking up in the air, revealing the hot pink thong she was wearing underneath it. He then returned his attention to the magazine in his hands. He sincerely hoped this woman was not Rachel Cory; it wouldn't be the first time a middle-aged man like Carl Hutchins had married some hot young thing. Whoever she was, she was clearly hot to trot, and more than a little obvious and desperate about it, if the way she was practically shoving her behind in his face was any indication. But Roger was very emphatically not interested. He had had hot young things before: Mindy, Jenna, Dinah. Lookswise, Miss Leather Miniskirt reminded him slightly of Mindy-long blonde hair, blue eyes, clearly into fashion-but she gave off that air of desperation, and in addition, she struck Roger as being nowhere near as bright as Mindy.
It didn't really matter, though. The only woman Roger wanted was Holly. They weren't back together yet, but that's where he wanted to end up, and he wasn't interested in any other woman.
Amanda pouted when she realized she hadn't gotten Roger's attention. "Aren't you going to help me pick up my papers?" she asked as she turned around to face him.
"There aren't that many," Roger said. "I'm sure you can manage." He glanced up again. "You're not Rachel Cory, are you?" he asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.
"God, no," Miss Leather Miniskirt snorted. "I'm her daughter, Amanda."
"Oh, good Lord," came a disgusted voice that reminded Roger far too much of Alexandra Spaulding: that haughty voice that was equal parts honey and cyanide. For one awful split second, he thought it was Alexandra, and whipped his head in the direction of the voice. He was flooded with relief when he saw that the owner of the voice was not Alexandra Spaulding, but someone who reminded him quite a bit of her, not only in voice but in looks and bearing as well: she was around Alex's age, with blonde hair, a regal set to the shoulders announcing to all the world that she was clearly to the manor born, and a look of haughty disapproval trained on Amanda Cory with just a bit of an ice queen sneer twisting her mouth. "This is a place of business, Amanda, not a singles bar, although you wouldn't know that by the way you're dressed." She looked at Roger then. "I apologize for my half-sister," she continued. "Amanda thinks she is God's gift to all men. It simply never occurs to her that there might be a man immune to her particular brand of what passes for charm because his interests lie elsewhere."
"I don't see a ring on his finger, Iris," Amanda retorted.
"My interests do lie elsewhere," Roger said then, just to settle the matter once and for all.
"There, you see?" Iris said triumphantly. "You'll have to find another happy home to wreck. What's the matter, dearie, afraid you'll get out of practice while you're off the Continent for the summer?"
"Mom asked me to come back for the summer," Amanda reminded Iris through clenched teeth.
"Because you're so busy flitting from man to man all across Europe, you never bother to come home on your own," Iris shot back. "As your latest attempt at an article shows, you're certainly not adding much to the professional atmosphere around here. And you know, I really don't understand where you get this from. Rachel only wrecked one home in her lifetime. But then, Steve Frame couldn't keep his pants zipped when he was around her, so I guess he's really just as much to blame for destroying his relationship with Alice, isn't he?"
"Watch it, Iris, that's my brother's father you're talking about," Amanda warned.
"Oh, please. Daddy was more of a father to Jamie than Steve Frame ever was, and if you asked Jamie, I'm sure he'd tell you the same thing," Iris said. "Of course, I'm closer to Jamie these days than you are since I actually see him on a fairly regular basis."
"Why don't you go soak your head, Iris?" Amanda asked sweetly.
"Why don't you go back to Europe and find a man to jump on, Amanda?" Iris retorted just as sweetly. "Or are you finally going to expand into Asia? There can't be too many men left in Europe with the swath you've cut there these past six years."
Roger was alternately fascinated and uncomfortable by how much Iris and Amanda reminded him of Alexandra and Mindy, but tried to make it appear that he wasn't paying attention to every word they were lobbing at one another in their verbal battle.
"That's enough, both of you," announced a third, much sterner voice then. This one belonged to a woman about Iris's age but with dark hair, who was frowning at both Iris and Amanda and holding a to-go cup of what looked to be iced tea in one hand. That must be Rachel Cory, Roger thought.
The new arrival stood in between Iris and Amanda, who were standing about six feet apart, looking from one woman to the other. "The fact that I was away from my desk for a few minutes and Amy left early for a dental appointment does not mean the two of you can bicker and snipe at each other out here. This is a Fortune 500 company, not a soap opera, and do we really have to have yet another discussion on professional decorum, Amanda?"
"I was just being friendly!" Amanda insisted.
"Your type of friendly requires screening for a social disease," Iris muttered.
"I heard that, Iris!" Amanda said angrily.
"I wanted you to, Amanda!" Iris replied.
"Enough!" the third woman thundered. "Amanda, pick up your papers and go. Iris, don't you have somewhere else to be as well?"
"Actually, yes," Iris admitted. "I have an editorial meeting in ten minutes. Will you be gracing us with your presence, little sister?"
"You can count on it," Amanda said icily.
Iris and Amanda left to prepare for the editorial meeting, still sniping at each other. "The joys of parenthood," the woman said wryly as she watched them go. After Iris and Amanda had disappeared from sight, she turned her full attention to Roger. "I apologize for my daughter and my stepdaughter," she said. "Their behavior was unprofessional, to say the least. In the meantime, I'm Rachel Cory." She extended her hand.
"Roger Thorpe," Roger replied, shaking Rachel's hand. "It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise," Rachel said, even as her internal radar went off. Roger? Is this Holly's Roger?, she wondered. "Shall we adjourn to my office?"
"Fine," Roger agreed. Rachel ushered him into her office, a large room filled with pieces of sculpture and dozens of photographs of what were apparently her very large family. Roger had done a bit of research after Michael's phone call and learned that Rachel had two sons, one daughter, two stepdaughters, and two stepsons, and all of them except her youngest son, Matthew Cory (the same Matthew Cory who had been married, however briefly, to Donna), were married with children and/or stepchildren of their own. She was married to Mackenzie Cory, the founder of Cory Publishing, three times over the course of 25 years, the last marriage taking place in 1983 and lasting until Mac's death of a heart attack in 1989. She had married Carl Hutchins in 1994, and they were in the middle of getting divorced; Carl was bound for a federal penitentiary on various charges ranging from racketeering to attempted murder. Rachel was also a sculptor by trade, had one half-sister, Nancy McGowan, who lived in Bay City and ran a restaurant called The Paradise Café, and her mother Ada Hobson had died in 1993. Her father Gerald Davis had divorced Ada in 1949, leaving her to raise Rachel alone, and was currently finishing up a prison term for perjury.
"So," Rachel said as she seated herself behind her desk, "why did you request this meeting, Mr. Thorpe?"
"Roger, please," Roger said. "I'm working with Michael Hudson now, he's an old friend of mine, and he mentioned to me that you're looking to sell the local TV station you own, KBAY, Mrs. Cory."
Working with Michael. This IS Holly's Roger!, Rachel realized. "Please, call me Rachel," she said. "Well, I was looking to sell KBAY, Roger, that's true. But I found a buyer earlier today. The sale won't be final for a few months, but we reached terms just a few hours ago."
"Oh," Roger said, disappointed. "I see."
Rachel studied Roger unobtrusively as he recovered himself from the surprise and disappointment that KBAY had been sold before he even had the chance to make an offer. Yes, she could see Holly and Roger together. "If you're working with Michael, why were you interested in buying KBAY?" she asked. "As an investment opportunity?"
"No," Roger said. "I used to co-own a TV station a few years ago, and I thought this would be an excellent opportunity for my former co-station owner to return to running a TV station. She was the best at it."
"She?" Rachel asked.
"Yeah," Roger replied. "Holly Lindsey." Rachel kept a poker face in the wake of this definite confirmation of what she had already figured out. "You might recommend her to your buyer if he or she is looking for a top-notch station manager."
"You must have been very impressed with her to be recommending her so highly now," Rachel said.
"Oh yes, I'm very impressed with her," Roger said, and that's when Rachel saw it in his eyes: that look, the look she saw in Mac's eyes for so many years, the look others saw in Mac's eyes when he was talking about her, or thinking about her, or watching her from across the room. The look that left no doubt whatsoever that Holly Lindsey was the half that made Roger Thorpe whole. Roger saw Rachel watching him then, and ducked his head, slightly abashed. "Holly isn't just my former co-station owner," he admitted.
"So I see," Rachel replied with an understanding smile. At Roger's puzzled look, she said, "It's in the eyes. They'll give you away every time."
"We're trying to work things out so we can get back together," Roger said, "and I know that she's looking for a new job, something that she really enjoys as opposed to the job she recently left, so I thought..."
"You thought you'd buy KBAY and offer her the station manager's job," Rachel finished. "Well, I'm sorry I can't help you out with that, but it's been my experience that these things have a way of working themselves out, sometimes better than you originally planned."
"Does that mean you'll give her name to your buyer?" Roger inquired.
"I guarantee that the new owner of KBAY will know of Holly's past experience as a station manager," Rachel replied.
"I appreciate that," Roger said. "I won't take up any more of your time." He stood up, so Rachel did too. They shook hands once more. "Thank you for meeting with me."
"You're welcome," Rachel replied. "And good luck with Holly."
"Thank you," Roger said. Then he left.
After Roger departed, Rachel sat down at her desk again and looked first at the picture of herself and her beloved mother, and then at the picture of herself and Mac. "Mac, Mom," she said, addressing the photographs, "I don't know if you have any kind of pull up there, but if you do, put in a good word for Holly and Roger. They deserve another chance."
As Roger was walking down the hall of the seventeenth floor at The Bayshore Hotel after leaving Rachel's office, he was surprised when he saw Holly exiting a suite a few doors down and across from his own. "Holly?" he asked.
Holly looked down the hall and smiled when she saw Roger standing there, his tie loosened, his collar undone, sleeves rolled up, and carrying his jacket over one shoulder. "Hi, neighbor," she said as she walked down the hall to join him.
"Neighbor?" Roger asked.
"Yeah, I checked in a little while ago," she replied. "I have some news. I got a new job today. Well, I don't start for quite a while yet, but I'm going to be working here in Bay City too."
"That's wonderful," Roger said. "What are you going to be doing?"
Holly's smile grew wider. "I bought a TV station," she said. "It'll be a couple of months before everything is finalized and I officially take over as the station manager, but my offer was accepted today."
Roger was thunderstruck. "You bought KBAY?" he asked.
"I did," Holly said. Roger started laughing. "Wait," Holly said, "were you going to-"
"I just came from Rachel Cory's office, where she told me she already had a buyer," Roger said.
"Great minds think alike," Holly said.
"I was going to buy it for you to run it," Roger said. "That was probably presumptuous of me."
"Maybe somewhat," Holly agreed, "but I know that you're going to be spending more time in Bay City now that you're working with Michael, and wherever you are, that's where I'm going to be. So I guess I was somewhat presumptuous too."
"Do you want to move to Bay City permanently?" Roger asked.
"Do you?" Holly countered.
"That depends on what happens with us," Roger said.
"Yes, it does," Holly agreed.
"We have a lot of other things to settle before we get to where we're going to be living," Roger said.
"We do," Holly said, nodding.
"But that's definitely a subject we need to revisit at a later date, because where we live is a decision that we're going to have to make together."
Holly's heart turned over in her chest. Roger was talking about making a decision together about where they would live. At a later date, sometime in the future, but this was the biggest step he had taken so far towards the possibility of them having a future together.
"Yes, it is," she said, her smile taking over her entire face.
Roger's answering smile was a beacon of hope.
They were slowly making progress, slowly growing closer, and that was all that mattered.
Beverlee McKinsey, who originated the role of Alexandra Spaulding on GL in 1984, originated the role of Iris Cory Wheeler on AW in 1975. I am more familiar with her successor in the role of Iris, Carmen Duncan, but when I realized that Roger would be seeing Iris and Amanda argue at Cory Publishing, I could only see Beverlee as Iris...hence Roger being reminded of Alexandra when he saw and heard Iris and thinking, for one split second, that it actually was Alex.