you.”
Closing the folder, he leveled an I-can’t-be-disturbed stare at her. “This isn’t a good time.”
Instead of backing off, she closed the door behind her and advanced on the desk. “It’s important.”
“Not now.” He ratcheted the stare up to a glare.
Her gaze flickered away from him. Good, intimidation still worked. Amanda believed that her job depended on his goodwill.
Whether it really did, he wasn’t so sure. Cyrus seemed to have a soft spot for her, for some reason. But as long as she believed it, she’d do as she was told.
Except that right now, she wasn’t. She clasped her hands together as if she needed support, but she didn’t back away.
“What exactly is the slant of the story you’re planning to do on the Coast Guard?”
He raised a dismissive brow. “I thought we were clear on this. Your only role is to arrange the interviews, not to contribute to the story, no matter how well you feel you know the subject matter.”
“I’m not talking about my contribution. Or lack of it. I want to know what you’re after.”
“My plans for the story don’t concern you.”
“They do when you use me to get to my father.” She shot the words back at him like arrows.
“Get to him?” Annoyance rose, probably because she was exactly on target. “That implies that he has to be protected from the press.”
Those green eyes widened. In shock? Or because she agreed and didn’t want him to know it? He expected backpedaling on her part. He didn’t get it.
“My father doesn’t need protection. But he also doesn’t deserve some kind of hatchet job, if that’s what you have in mind.”
Apparently Amanda could overcome her fear of him when it came to her family.
“Why would you assume that? I’m sure my interview style isn’t quite as laid-back as the one you generally employ in your painstaking search for the facts about the latest dog show or charity ball, but that doesn’t mean I’m planning a hatchet job.”
That was below the belt, and he knew it. After all, he was the one who assigned her those stories. And he’d been the recipient of enough sarcasm from his father to dislike using it on anyone else. Still, he had no choice but to keep Amanda away from the truth.
A faint wash of color came up in her cheeks. “You’re after something more than a profile piece, aren’t you?”
He stood, forcing her to look up at him. “ You’re an employee of this newspaper, Amanda. If you want to continue in that, I’d suggest you keep your imagination in check. Anything I print about your father or anyone else will be the exact truth.”
“I trust it will be.” She took a cautious step back. “If it isn’t…” She stopped, apparently not able to think of a sufficient threat to end that sentence.
“You don’t need to worry about that. I’ll make sure of it.”
Amanda couldn’t know just how much he meant that. He wouldn’t make the mistake again of rushing into print without being sure of his ability to back up his facts.
But he also wouldn’t give up. He had no desire to hurt Amanda or her family. But if Brett Bodine was involved in a kickback scheme, the world was going to know about it, thanks to him.
She was actually shaking. Amanda detoured to the restroom instead of going straight back to her desk.
One of Cyrus’s nicer eccentricities had been to have the women’s room copied after the one in an elegant downtown department store, with plush love seats in a small sitting area and art deco black-and-white tile in the restroom. She went straight through, headed for the marble sink with its beveled mirror.
Ridiculous. This was idiotic, to let herself be so affected by what that man said or thought of her. She stared at herself in the mirror, disliking the flushed cheeks. Not only had she been affected, but she’d undoubtedly let him see it.
Grabbing a paper towel, she wet it and pressed it against her cheeks. She couldn’t let him get to her like this. This