In Every Heartbeat by Kim Vogel Sawyer Read Free Book Online Page B

the looks of you, I would imagine you have the makings of a fine romance novelist. Maybe you could write some serials—build a résumé that way.”
    Romance novels? Libby wanted to do serious reporting! Stung by his cavalier attitude toward her dream, Libby ducked her head. “I . . . I see.”
    “Best I can do for you, I’m afraid.” His chair squeaked as he pushed to his feet. “But in a couple of years, when you’ve built that résumé, come back and see me again.”
    Slowly, Libby raised her head to meet his gaze. “Really?”
    “Sure. If I like your samples, and if you’ve proved you can handle meeting deadlines, I might be willing to give you a chance.” He smiled. “The newspaper can always use a good homemaking or gossip column.”
    Libby nearly leapt out of the chair. She grabbed up her satchel and whirled toward the door. She would most definitely not return to this office. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to remember the manners Isabelle Rowley had taught her. Turning back, she said stiffly, “I thank you for your time, Mr. Houghton. Have a good day.”
    She fled, not even glancing at the receptionist on her way out. She charged down the sidewalk, her feet clip-clipping in angry little stomps. Homemaking? Gossip column? Romances? Mr. Houghton would never have made those suggestions to a man seeking employment.
    How unfair to be seen as less than able just because she wore a dress rather than trousers. Little wonder Maelle had worn trousers for so many years. Perhaps Libby would throw convention aside and purchase a few pairs of britches for herself! She kicked viciously at an empty can lying in the gutter. It clattered and bounced ahead several feet, coming to rest next to a small, dingy, flat disk. Curious, Libby bent over and pinched the disk between her thumb and finger. Her heart leapt in delight. A nickel! She looked around at the other people traveling the sidewalk; no one seemed to be seeking a lost coin.
    The unexpected windfall lifted her spirits. She could use this nickel a dozen different ways. The drugstore waited just ahead. With a little skip, she darted forward and entered the store. A long, high counter ran along the right-hand side of the store, but all of the black iron stools were filled with customers enjoying a soda or a sandwich.
    Libby’s mouth watered as the smell of grilled onions reached her nose, bringing a memory to the surface. Her parents had taken her to St. Louis to the World’s Fair two years before their death. They’d eaten a delicious sandwich—a hamburger, they’d called it—of cooked beef on toast with pickles and grilled onions. After her sad breakfast and unsuccessful job search, she deserved a special treat. Might she be able to buy a hamburger with her nickel?
    She inched forward, peeking between shoulders to read the sandwich list and prices listed on a cardboard placard behind the counter. To her disappointment, the only offerings listed were egg salad on white, ham and cheese on rye, or a frankfurter on a roll. Fingering the nickel, she looked for something else. A milk shake, a bowl of ice cream, a large dill pickle . . . After having her taste buds set for a hamburger, nothing else appealed. With a sigh, she turned toward the doors to leave, but a display in the corner caught her attention.
    Magazines.
    Mr. Houghton had suggested she build a résumé by writing magazine stories. Although the thought of writing romance serials didn’t appeal to her, maybe the magazine editor would allow her to write articles instead. She inched her way to the display of magazines and pulled a volume of Carter’s Home Journal from the shelf. She flipped through it. No articles of a serious nature—mostly recipes and gardening or homemaking tips. She put it back.
    Looking down the line of options, her gaze settled on a copy of Modern Woman’s World . A sarcastic thought filled her mind: Maybe the magazine would show her how to fit in as a woman in this world.