"Yes, I'm the teacher who has nothing romantically going on with Mr. Kincade." At least not anymore.
"Well, once a story is inked I've got no recourse."
"Of course you do. You can print a retraction."
"The article originally ran in the North Carolina Observer. So why would I want to retract it?"
"Because you added to the original story. Why would you do that?"
The woman shrugged her stooped shoulders. "It's a local interest story. I've always had a hankering to be one of those Weekly World News journalists. Figured I'd just spice it up a little."
"At the detriment to a local family?"
"Haven't you heard the old sayings, 'If it bleeds it leads' and 'Scandal sells'? A retraction now won't mean spit."
The door opened behind her but Lucy was too fired up to care.
"A retraction will matter." Lucy inhaled a deep breath. "Look. You can make up all the lies you want about me, I'll survive. But I won't let you drag the Kincade family's good name through the mud. They're nice, respectable people who've recently suffered an unspeakable tragedy. They run a successful business in this town and they don't deserve your acid tongue. Why do you want to be so mean anyway? Does causing people heartache make you happy? Do you sleep well at night knowing you've made someone's life miserable?"
The newspaper editor opened her mouth, then snapped it shut when Lucy continued her rant.
"If you don't print a retraction and apologize to the Kincade family, I will personally sit outside your office and protest, as I'm sure will some of the others you've offended over the years. Gossip is vicious and the damage done never goes away. Someone needs to show you how it feels to be on the receiving end. I don't mind being that person."
Lucy exhaled, straightened her shoulders, and gave the woman her nastiest glare. "Now what do you have to say?"
"I say bravo." The comment came not from Mrs. Brickridge but a deep male voice directly over Lucy's shoulder. Though she'd know that voice anywhere, she spun around.
"What are you doing here?"
Something crazy fluttered in Jordan's chest as he smiled at the woman who seemed to have changed everything in his life. "Watching you stand up to a town menace."
"Some people deserve it." She turned back to the newspaper editor and pointed a finger. "I meant what I said. Push me and you'll find out how fast I'll push back."
A wave of emotion washed over Jordan as Lucy stepped around him and marched out the door. His immediate instinct was to follow. But like her, he'd come to the newspaper office for a reason.
"You run this place?" he asked the elderly woman with features so pinched he couldn't imagine that face would ever crack a smile.
"That's right. Don't tell me you've got a gripe too."
He gave her his negotiating face-­the expression he used when he found himself sitting across the desk from someone he knew was going to try and screw him over.
"I'm not the type of person to gripe." He planted his hands on the counter. "I'm the type of person who takes action. I don't know how you've gotten away with spreading lies and gossip for so long, but it's time for it to stop."
The woman folded her sagging arms across her drooping breasts. "Is that so?"
"Yes. That's so. Tomorrow I expect you to print a special edition of your rag paper with a retraction for your addition to the story and an apology to Ms. Diamond."
"And who are you to tell me what to do?"
"You really should know the subjects of your lies better. Like, maybe take a look at the photos you print."
The woman looked down at the paper lying on the counter. When she looked up at him, he knew she had it figured out.
"The way I see it, I don't figure many people have the means to hire the biggest badass attorney on the planet to sue you. I do. And if I don't see that apology tomorrow, I'll shut you down so fast you'll see stars spinning over your head."
He didn't give her a chance to respond. He'd said his piece, now it was time to catch up with the woman who, at her own expense, had taken a bold stand on his family's behalf.
Lucy unlocked her front door, threw her purse in a nearby chair, and flopped down on the sofa. Her heart pounded like a trapped rabbit and her throat felt as dry as a summer day in Death Valley. Ziggy wandered in and settled his big head on her leg, waiting to be petted.
She hadn't given much thought to what she'd say or do once she got to the newspaper office; she'd been running on pure emotion.