Ben knew it was a small thing, certainly not worth mentioning and possibly causing a confrontation over as a result, but it bugged him to no end when Gordon insisted on addressing him and Elle by their full names. He remained silent on the matter once again, however, not wanting to upset Elle by challenging her uptight father.

“Congratulations on your new job, Benjamin,” offered Gordon. “From what Eleanor tells me, you’re certain to do very well. And I’ve known Bradley Van Patten for almost forty years, so you’ll certainly be in good hands under his leadership.”

Brad Van Patten was the editor-in-chief at National Geographic Travel, and in theory Ben’s new boss. But he’d only met the man briefly, and had actually gone through the interview process with three lower level editors. Tactfully, Ben chose not to remind Gordon of this fact and merely took a sip of the bone dry wine.

The multi-course meal seemed to drag on interminably, and more than once he had to stifle a yawn. He had a pre-dawn flight to South America in the morning, and was hoping the evening would end at a decent hour so he could get some much needed sleep. Though he supposed it didn’t matter all that much, considering all the time he’d likely have in the near future to catch up on his sleep.

He would miss the travel, the excitement of seeing new places, and even the hassles that came with checking baggage, going through Customs, and putting up with flight delays. But to complain about it now would seem petty and ungrateful, especially since Gordon managed to find subtle ways all during dinner to remind Ben that he was largely responsible for getting him this job. And when he saw how happy Elle was, he felt selfish and more than a little guilty to admit that he didn’t really want to stop traveling.

But then, he’d grown accustomed over the course of his thirty-two years to giving up those things that he’d come to cherish – his family, hometown, old school friends; his motorcycle; the love of his life. The fact that he was now getting ready to give up the job he’d always dreamed of having was just one more loss he would learn to cope with.

Chapter Eight

January, New York City

If there was anything Lauren disliked more than being in Manhattan, it was being there in the dead of winter with the remnants of a recent snow shower about. It wasn’t even pretty snow, she thought in disgust as she ambled down the street towards her office building. Just some rather dirty patches here and there, not even enough to make a good snowball. And it was fucking cold, a good thirty degrees colder than it had been yesterday in Big Sur.

She took a long, blissful drink from the extra-large cup of coffee she carried in one gloved hand, needing both the caffeine and the warmth the beverage provided. That damned cheapskate Nadine had not only booked her on a red-eye, but one that had required a two hour layover in Chicago. And the weather at O’Hare had been even worse than it was here, causing her flight to JFK to be delayed by almost two hours. Sleeping on the flight – something she usually had little trouble doing – had proved a much more difficult task this time around due to three different wailing infants or toddlers seated in close proximity. At one point, Lauren had seriously considered ordering a couple of whiskeys, though she hadn’t decided whether to drink them herself or force feed them to the screaming babies in an attempt to quiet them down.

She was crabby and impatient as she continued on her way, especially since she had been required to arrive in town a full four days earlier than previously planned. And all because of the new sheriff in town, the editor who’d been hired to replace the newly promoted Quinn Cohen. No one knew very much about the new boss except that he’d previously worked at Conde Nast. Lauren hadn’t bothered to find out anything else about him, figuring she would have as little to do with Quinn’s replacement as she had with Quinn himself.

She’d liked Quinn well enough – even if he was a little too much of a corporate kiss-ass for her liking. And her former boss had seemed content to leave her alone for the most part, allowing her a great deal of creative freedom with her assignments. Of course, he’d also tried to hit on her at least half a dozen times, until she’d “accidentally” spilled a scalding cup of coffee on his lap. She’d ruined his expensive wool trousers, given him a painful second degree burn, and, most importantly, stopped his very unwelcomed flirting for good.

And that had been a very, very good thing, she told herself, picking up the pace as she walked along, trying to stay warm. Quinn wasn’t a bad looking guy, if a little too buttoned-up for her taste. But he’d had any number of strikes against him that would have ensured a relationship between them had never developed. Being her boss had been number one. She would have never considered sleeping with her immediate superior, and then have the resulting gossip and innuendoes fly fast and furiously. It was tough enough for a woman to make it in this field without dealing with the stigma of having slept her way up the ladder.

Quinn was also a lot older than she was, nearly twenty years, and the thought of doing it with someone almost old enough to be her father tended to cause a bit of a gag reflex. And Quinn also happened to have a steady girlfriend, a sweet if somewhat vapid woman named Phoebe whom Lauren had met on several occasions. No matter what, Lauren did not poach on other women’s men, nor was she open to sharing them – despite the multiple times she had teased her sister about enticing some hot guy to take both of them to bed at the same time. Julia always shuddered in revulsion at the mere suggestion of the so-called “twin sandwich”, and told Lauren she was getting way too kinky for her liking.

No, if a guy already had a wife or girlfriend, or even a regular booty call, he was strictly off limits for Lauren. Once, during her sophomore year at UCLA, she’d unknowingly dated a guy who was living with his girlfriend. Fortunately, they’d never done much more than make out a little, despite his repeated urgings to take it further. So when the douche bag’s girlfriend had angrily confronted Lauren after class one day, calling her a skank, and demanding she leave her boyfriend alone, she’d at least had a mostly clear conscience about the unfortunate mess. Lauren had promptly invited the angry girlfriend out for a beer where they’d schemed and plotted the perfect revenge for the lying slimeball. After that the two girls had become good friends, and Lauren still kept in regular contact with Shay.

Her cell phone rang at that moment, the distinctive La Vie en Rose ring tone signaling the caller was Julia. Her twin loved all things French – food, clothes, films – and truly embraced their maternal grandparents’ heritage.

“Bonsoir, Jules,” greeted Lauren, her French every bit as perfect as her sister’s. “How are you on this really, really shitty morning?”

Julia sighed. “Bad flight?”

“You would not believe. God, how did you stand living in this city during the winter? Do you realize I was surfing at this time yesterday? In a wetsuit, mind you, but the sky was blue and there sure as hell wasn’t any dirty snow on the ground.”

“At least your next assignment is someplace warm, isn’t it?” asked Julia.

The team was headed to Australia in less than a week. Under normal circumstances, Lauren would have met up with the others in Los Angeles, and then caught a flight to Sydney. Instead, she’d be making two cross country flights within a five day period, just so she could meet the new boss and listen politely to all of his plans and goals for the team – and then end up doing everything her way after all.

“Yeah, thank God it’s summer down under. I’m still in shock that we’re actually going somewhere in season. But some of the activities we’re planning to cover are only available for a few months each year. It must be killing that cheapo Nadine to be allotting so much money from the budget. I swear that girl is descended from Scrooge in A Christmas Carol. Or maybe it’s Scrooge McDuck.”