Deadlines, Donuts & Dreidels
Author
Jennifer Wilck
Reads
18.4K
Chapters
15
Her childhood crush may be her best story yet. Journalist Jessica Sacks's career is on the line if she doesn't ace this next assignment. She must interview firefighter Thomas Carville, Browerville's celebrated hero — and her forever crush since childhood. When Jessica returns home for Hanukkah, handsome Thomas takes her breath away. And rudely shuts her down when she asks for an interview. Thomas knows he and the man he saved are both lucky to be alive, regardless of his actions. And now Jessica is poking into his business. Thomas would rather kiss her under the mistletoe than answer her questions. But his priority is protecting his sobriety and his secret. They're as far apart as Christmas and Hanukkah, but even their differences can't trump the power of love.
Chapter One
“I’m sorry, Jessica, but there’s nothing I can do.”
Jessica dug her nails into the palms of her hands and tried to slow her pounding heart. Her short hair stuck to the nape of her neck as sweat popped along her hairline.
Her boss could not fire her. Not now.
The silence inside the office surrounded her like fluff, muting all the other sounds outside the glass walls—the phone chatter, keyboard taps, office-chair squeaks and TV monitor voices of a busy newsroom. You wouldn’t think it would be this busy right before Thanksgiving.
“Alice, I apologized to everyone, and I printed a correction. There must be a way to fix this.”
Her boss and the executive editor of the Brooklyn Daily Herald shook her head. “The Macadoos are major advertisers with us and our parent company. Your error made them look bad, and you have no idea how hard Harvey and I worked to convince them not to withdraw their support from not only this paper and the website, but everywhere else they advertise. By the time the call ended, Harvey was fuming.”
Jess could picture Harvey’s face, purple and pulsing with anger. As the publisher of the media company, he was responsible for three local papers in New York and New Jersey, their respective websites, four cable channels and a bunch of syndicated radio shows in the tri-state area. The story she’d written, about how Terrence Macadoo had embezzled funds to support a second family, was a terrific story. Who knew there were two men with that exact name? And it was her luck the innocent Terrence Macadoo happened to be their biggest advertiser. It had turned into a colossal mess, with lawsuits and divorces threatened. But she didn’t want to lose her job.
“Please, Alice. I love this job. Isn’t there anything I can do?”
Her throat thickened and she pulled at her Star of David necklace as she swallowed. She’d worked for the Brooklyn Daily Herald since college graduation. It was her first and only job and, for the past ten years, she’d loved everything about it. She loved the rush of meeting deadlines, the adrenaline surrounding a juicy scoop. How could one mistake ruin everything?
Alice, polished as usual, sat across the desk from her and stared at her with a mixture of sympathy and disappointment.
“Look, it’s out of my hands. Harvey doesn’t want you here...”
That was it. Jessica’s stomach dropped. As much as she wanted to stay, Harvey was the boss. The big boss. The one who all the bosses reported to. If he said she was gone, she was gone.
She rose. “I understand.”
Numb with shock, she left Alice’s office and returned to her desk. Examining ten years’ worth of stuff, she wondered what she was supposed to do with everything. In movies, when people were fired, they left with their stuff in a box. Who kept boxes near their desk? Was there some “box department” she should call? And how to pare down a decade’s worth of stuff into one box?
Sinking into her chair, she opened her desk, pulled out small personal items, and stuffed them in her bag. From on top of her desk, she added the photos and mug she’d kept there for as long as she could remember. Plus the award she’d won for a story last year.
With nothing else of value to take, and no boxes having miraculously appeared, she returned to Alice’s office to turn in her badge and key card.
“I’m sorry it worked out this way,” Alice said.
“Me too.”
In a daze, Jessica left her office for the last time and returned to her apartment. The cold Brooklyn streets were busier than usual, the subways packed this day before Thanksgiving. Her building lobby was empty, though. As she let herself into her apartment, she paused in the entryway. She’d worked weekdays and weekends and, other than the occasional sick day or vacation, she rarely saw this place in the light of day. Dust motes floated in the air, the refrigerator hummed, but otherwise everything was still and silent. She dropped her keys in the Jersey Shore souvenir dish on her cabinet in the entryway, placed her large leather bag gently on the floor next to it, removed her sneakers and walked in socks into the living room. With a sigh, she plopped onto the sofa and closed her eyes.
What now? She was supposed to go home tonight for Thanksgiving with her family. The candied yams she’d promised sat in the refrigerator. But the thought of telling her parents she’d been fired horrified her. Her brother Brandon and his wife would be there too. What would they think of her? Tears sprung behind her closed lids, and she grit her teeth to fight them. She wasn’t going to dissolve into tears. With deep breaths, she tried to invent an excuse to skip the event, knowing it was useless. No way would her parents allow her to miss it.
How could she tell her family she’d lost her job? Her parents were proud of her career, saving every article she wrote, kvelling every time she called to tell them about an upcoming subject she’d researched. They’d be devastated. Her brother was always supportive of her, so he wouldn’t say anything. But what would he think? And after he and his wife left, what would they say about her?
She buried her face in one of her sofa cushions.
The ring of her cell phone made her jump. It was Alice.
She stared at the phone a minute, a sliver of trepidation running along her spine. They couldn’t fire her again, so she shook off the dread in the pit of her stomach. “Hello?” Had she forgotten something in her haste to leave?
A loud sigh greeted her. “I feel bad I had to let you go, so I have a proposition for you.”
Jessica pulled the phone away from her ear. Alice often called her at all hours about assignments, but she no longer worked for the woman. What proposition could her former boss have now that she hadn’t had earlier?
“Yes?”
“A story just came across my desk. A museum rededication and awards ceremony. Apparently, the town wants to award a firefighter for rescuing an elderly man from a fire. How about you cover the story? Get it right, and I’ll see if I can convince Harvey to give you a second chance.”
This was ridiculous. “I’m an investigative reporter. A hometown event isn’t my beat.”
“You don’t have a job. I’m not sure what you have to complain about, Jess.”
Jessica winced at the well-placed barb. “Why are you giving this to me?”
“You’re from Browerville. The museum rededication is in your hometown.”
“But we cover Brooklyn.”
“Yes, but Harvey wants it for his regional paper, the Tri-State Sentinel.”
And if she went home to cover it, they wouldn’t have to pay her travel expenses. Now it made sense.
“Are you serious about giving me my job back?”
Alice sighed. “Let’s call it a sabbatical. Cover this story well. Interview the firefighter—his name is Thomas Carville—and interview the guy he rescued. Give it the full treatment. The ceremony is in two and a half weeks. Cover it as well. In the meantime, Harvey will have time to cool off and I’ll have a better chance to change his mind. I like you, Jess. We’ve had a great history together. I’d love to give you a second chance. Your mistake was bad, but everyone deserves a second chance.”
Jessica ran a hand through her short hair, half listening to the rest of Alice’s conversation.
Her thoughts zoomed in to the firefighter.
Thomas Carville.
The object of her crush since...forever. He lived next door with his parents and siblings. She’d heard he was a firefighter. Her mom had called to let her know about his accident, but until April had given her his name, she hadn’t made the connection.
Math had never been her strong suit.
She remembered how giddy she’d been every time she’d seen him. She’d followed him and his friends around, waiting to be included. She’d posed in her bathing suit and shorts on her front lawn, hoping he’d notice her. She’d always wanted him to ask her out and she’d been devastated in eighth grade when he’d left for college.
It had been years since she’d seen him. What did he look like now? She remembered his blond hair and crooked smile. When he’d turned it on her, she’d practically drooled. From the glimpses she’d seen, he’d filled out and grown taller. But how had he changed? Was his hair darker? And his voice—had it deepened? A flicker of interest warmed her.
This story was out of her area of coverage. But if it landed her in the good graces of her boss, she’d save her job. And a chance to catch up with her secret crush could be fun.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” she said.
With renewed determination, she rushed to pack her clothes and make her train home.
Thomas Carville pulled into his driveway and shut off his battered blue pickup’s ignition. He rolled his neck, his skin tight from burn scars, and climbed out. The late November wind made his open jacket flutter, and he pulled it tighter around himself as he locked his truck door. The church where he’d attended his AA meeting had run out of the good coffee and all he wanted was a drink of water to get the taste of burnt grounds out of his mouth. He wanted something stronger than water, but he always did. He no longer gave in to those desires.
Jogging up his front flagstone walkway jingling his keys, he stopped short at the sight of a note on his door. The yellow Post-it fluttered a little in the cold breeze. He pulled the sticky note off the door and read it.
Hi, Thomas,
Not sure if you remember me, but I used to live next door. I’m in town for the rededication ceremony and would love to talk to you about your heroic rescue. Call me.
Jessica Sacks
At the bottom, she’d listed the name of the newspaper and her phone number. He clenched his teeth and crumpled the note. No freakin’ way. He was no hero and he refused to talk about that day—especially to a reporter, no matter how who she was.
He looked over at her parents’ house. Of course, he remembered her. Younger than he was by about four years, she’d had a crush on him. It had been cute when she was a kid. He’d let her follow him and his friends around, once in a while giving her attention. His parents and hers moved in different circles. His with their church friends and hers with others he didn’t know well. But they were neighbors.
He remembered braces that gleamed in the sunlight when she’d smiled and big eyes that had stared at him out of a thin face.
He also remembered how kind Jessica’s mother had been when his mom had gotten sick. She’d brought over meals and baked goods and donated to their church when she’d died. And after his accident, she’d sent a note and flowers to the hospital.
He shook his head. Neighborly was one thing. Humoring Jessica as a kid was fine. But now? No way. It was his fault the old guy had almost died in that fire. He’d barely made it out himself.
Though healed, the burns on his neck and back itched; a potent reminder of the disaster he’d caused. At least his hair had grown back. He didn’t talk about it to anyone. She’d have to find another story.
Tossing the note in the trash, he went into the kitchen to make himself lunch. Reggie, his German shepherd, followed him, sitting at his side. As he ate, he reviewed his plan for the rest of the day. The key to his sobriety was to keep busy and avoid his former triggers. He’d made it eight months, three weeks and six days. His sponsor was great, and the meetings helped. He refused to mess things up. Therefore, he stuck to his plan.
Since he’d left the fire department, he’d cashed his disability checks and been renovating his parents’ house. Scratch that, his house. With his mom gone, his dad had moved to Arizona, where it was warm, and his brothers and sister were married and in homes of their own. This house was his, and it needed a lot of work.
He’d gutted and redone the kitchen first—a man needed to eat, and he liked to cook. At the firehouse, the guys had loved it when it was his turn to cook. Sure, the meals were the easy, big-group kinds essential to fire departments, but they were fresh. His lasagna featured homemade noodles and sauce. His chili incorporated fresh ingredients and nothing from a can.
As a single guy living alone, he made smaller meals for himself, but they were still healthy, fresh and tasty. The few times he’d brought dates home for dinner, they’d loved the meals he prepared for them too.
After changing into work clothes, he surveyed the living room. With the kitchen modernized, he’d quickly moved on. Again, he’d gutted the room down to the studs and installed brand new Sheetrock, wood trim and a simple mantel and hearth around the fireplace. He’d added high-hat lights in the ceiling. All that was left was sanding the floor and painting.
He put on protective gear and got to work with the sander. Except, every so often, movement out the window caught his eye and made him stop.
Since Jessica had arrived home, there’d been more activity at the neighbors’ house. He shouldn’t care since he didn’t intend to let her interview him. But every time a car entered or exited, or the garage door rose or fell, it reminded him she was there and wanted to speak to him.
What was she like now? She had terrible taste in careers, but he couldn’t get those huge eyes out of his mind. They’d been too big for her face then, but the bright emerald green wouldn’t let him ignore them.
Not that he’d ever thought of her as anything other than an annoying child.
He groaned. She was probably still annoying, just less of a child.
Manual labor didn’t prevent him from his wandering thoughts, no matter how hard he tried to focus. When he forgot to turn off the sander and kept it in one place too long, he swore before yanking the plug from the wall.
No way would he ruin the floor because of her.
He stalked upstairs, grabbed an extra bedsheet and returned to the living room. Pulling tacks out of the container on the windowsill, he affixed the sheet over the glass, darkening the room, but giving him peace. Problem solved.
Jessica glanced for what seemed like the one hundredth time at Thomas Carville’s house. It was only the seventh or eighth time that day, but as she waited for a response, each stare seemed to multiply. Since she’d arrived home for Thanksgiving last week, she’d hoped to catch him, but he never seemed to be home.
She’d left the Post-it note on the door yesterday. She’d heard Thomas’s truck pull out this morning and seen him pull in a half an hour ago. Yet still her phone didn’t ring.
Staring out the window of her parents’ living room, she remembered the days when she used to wait for Thomas to leave his house so she could follow him, hoping he’d pay attention to her. Even now, her heart raced when she remembered how his cowlick whorled on his forehead. His brown eyes had glinted when he was happy, and she’d waited with bated breath for him to turn them on her.
She scoffed. Such silly childhood dreams. She remembered how he’d once let her tag along when they’d gone to play Frisbee in the park. It had probably meant little to him, but to her, it had been everything.
She’d dreamed of him asking her to be his girlfriend—ignoring how her parents wouldn’t have allowed her to date someone four years older than she, or of a different religion. In her perfect childhood dreamworld, however, she and Thomas would overcome all the obstacles, dance in the moonlight, run away together, and live happily ever after.
Her real world was far from perfect.
At twenty-eight, she didn’t believe in happily-ever-after, no matter how wonderful her parents’ or brother’s marriages were. She’d been on too many bad dates and seen too many college friends enter into terrible relationships for her to believe her Prince Charming would appear at midnight, whether or not she lost a shoe, ate an apple or fell asleep. While she didn’t count it out, she wasn’t silly enough to think her childhood dreams would come true.
It was time to put all romantic thoughts aside. If she wanted to save her job, she needed this story.
She’d hoped a friendly note on his door would be the way in, but either he’d grabbed it without reading it or he hadn’t felt the same urgency she did. She’d give him the rest of the day before she moved onto plan B.
“Whatcha staring at?”
Jessica jumped as her mother snuck up behind her. She gasped and spun around.
“You startled me. I was hoping to see Thomas.”
Her mother raised an eyebrow. “You could go knock on his door like a normal person.”
“I could. I hoped he’d see my note and stop by.”
Her mom looked at her with sympathy. “Well, in the meantime, want to go into town for lunch?”
“As long as it’s Isaacson’s Deli. No matter how great New York’s deli scene is, there’s something about Isaacson’s that I can’t get enough of.”
After bundling up for the cold, Jessica and her mom drove into town and parked in front of the deli. Inside, they placed their sandwich order and sat at one of the tables to wait.
“Have you told Sarah you’re in town?” her mother asked.
Jessica looked around. Her stomach sank. If she called Sarah, she’d have to explain why she was there. But if she didn’t, and her friend found out—which she would since Aaron Isaacson, owner of the deli, was her boyfriend—she’d be hurt. “I’ll give her a call.” She’d have to figure out a way to keep what had happened a secret.
She sighed. She already kept the secret from her family. What was one more person?
Her mother nodded. “I’m glad you two have reinvigorated your friendship.”
“Me too.”
Aaron brought over their sandwiches. “Hey, Jess. Hi, Mrs. Sacks. Nice to see you both. Good Thanksgiving? Sarah know you’re home?” he asked Jessica.
“Yes, it was, and I was telling my mom I need to call her.”
“She’ll be thrilled to see you. She said the three of you are due for a girls’ night.”
Jessica nodded. A twinge of guilt marred her pleasure. She hated keeping secrets from friends. “We are. Which reminds me, I need to call Caroline too.” What would her friends say if they knew she’d been fired? For that matter, what would her parents say? Shame heated her cheeks and she reached for her drink.
Before she thought about that any more, the bell on the deli door jingled and Caroline walked in. Aaron turned toward her and smiled.
“You must have heard us talking about you.”
Caroline started to make a face at him but stopped in the middle. “Jess, you’re home!” She rushed over and gave her a hug. “Hi, Mrs. Sacks.”
“Hello, dear. How are you? How was Thanksgiving?”
“I’m well, and it was great.” Caroline turned to Jessica. “What are you doing here? How long are you here for? When can we get together?”
Jessica swallowed her bite of sandwich before she answered. She’d hoped for more time to invent a plausible reason for her visit home. “Wow, you ask more questions than I do. I came home for Thanksgiving and now I’m to cover the rededication ceremony. Not sure. And soon, I hope.”
Caroline frowned. “But I thought... Never mind. I’m glad you’re here.”
Aaron interrupted. “I’ve got to get back to work, but it’s great to see you, Jess. Caroline. Mrs. Sacks.” He nodded to everyone and returned behind the counter.
Jessica’s mom pointed to an empty chair. “Caroline, join us?”
Caroline sighed. “I need to place my order and return to the Jewish Community Center. We’re planning all kinds of Hanukkah programs at the JCC, and I have a ton of work to do.”
Jessica took another bite of her sandwich as Caroline checked her phone.
“How about you come over tonight? I’ll see if Sarah’s available.” Caroline looked at Jessica. “Around eight?”
Jessica looked at her smartwatch. Until she heard from Thomas and scheduled an interview, she was flexible. “Sure. It’ll be great to catch up. I’ll bring the wine.”
“Perfect. See you tonight,” Caroline said. “Great to see you, Mrs. Sacks.”
“You, too, Caroline.” She turned to her daughter. “I’m happy you’re getting involved. It’ll be like old times.”
Well, minus the crush on Thomas.