“Wel I’m not.” Damn it, this was crumbling fast.
Mel had said Libby was realy into wine these days. “But I am covering it for paper, and Mel says you know a lot about wine so….”
“Yeah okay. Sounds fun.” Libby was panting a little. Tony felt a surge of pride that he hadn’t been winded yet.
“Great. I’l pick you at 4:00?”
“How about I meet you at your office? I’d love to see it. I was hoping to talk with you anyway, about some ad space.”
“Yeah sure that’s fine. Come a little early we can get you set up with whatever you need.” Tony would have rather picked her up. But he could adjust.
They had circled the block several times by now, and Tony slowed to a walk.
“Had enough?” Libby taunted lightly as she jogged in place.
“Nah. I just have to get going. I am going to have to go back home and change now before I get to the office.”
Libby’s face dropped in remorse. “I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking! You should have just said!”
“Calm down Lib. I’m the boss, I can be late if I want to… and today I wanted to. I’l see you okay?”
“Okay.”
Tony turned and walked to his car. Waving again out the window Tony drove away.
Saturday came quickly for Libby. She had spent the early part of the week refining her business plan, and working out what sort of and what size ad she would want to run in the paper. She had a menu she wanted to include in the Sunday inserts, but she thought a daily ad would be beneficial too until she got a name built up. Tony’s paper had become very popular and most of the town seemed to subscribe to The Lindstown Daily Press.
Libby walked into Tony’s office a little after 3:00.
“You’re early.” Tony popped his head out of a back office. “Just let me change my clothes.” Tony disappeared back behind the door, and Libby concentrated on not thinking about him changing clothes.
The outer office was pretty smal, but Libby supposed that a newspaper wasn’t the sort of place that received a lot of foot traffic so that probably wasn’t a problem. Across one wal there were a few coin operated newspaper dispensers, and what looked to be a photo printing kiosk. Looking to her left there was a reception desk, and behind that there were two smaler desks. One long wal was decorated with a mural that depicted an old fashioned busy news room. It was comic book style with curved lines indicating ringing phones, faceless reporters in suits and hats scurrying about, and a shouting red faced man that Libby suspected was supposed to be Tony. It was positively charming, and exactly something Libby would expect from Tony.
“I like it too.” Libby whirled around to face Tony.
He had changed into a green colared shirt. Green was He had changed into a green colared shirt. Green was most definitely Tony’s color. “A couple of students from the high school did it for their senior project. Then we ran a story about the importance of arts in school curriculums.” Tony guided her back towards his office. “The best part?
Al the drywal underneath that mural is chipped and cracked!” He cocked her a grin. “You can’t tel a bit now-
- pretty smart huh?”
“I would expect nothing less.” Libby grinned back.
“This place is great Tony. Realy great.” Inside his office Libby was unsurprised to find his desk strewn messily with papers. He never had been exactly neat. Hanging on the wal were three shadow box frames-- one each for the first copy of the Daily Press, and both his novels to date. In one corner sat a wire waste paper basket, and the floor surrounding it was littered with crumpled paper bals. An image of how they got there sprung into her mind—typicaly Tony.
“Wel it barely supports itself, but it is more a work of love than anything else. I have a couple of teenagers wiling to work part time for peanuts and bylines, and I am subletting the apartment upstairs now that I’ve moved out—
that helps.
“Where did you move to?”
Pride and excitement colored Tony’s face. “I bought a house. About two months ago. It’s an old Victorian on Pine Street. The down payment took what was left of my book advance, I can’t afford furniture, and the place probably needs 60,000 dolars in repairs. But I’l get there. I can’t wait to show it to you.” Libby tried to remember when she had ever seen him so happy. Nothing came to mind. “Wow. You’ve done realy wel Tony, I’m glad. Al your dreams are coming true.”
“Not al of them, Lib. But I have high hopes. So what can we do for you?”
Libby handed over the folder she was carrying. “I definitely want the Sunday insert. And depending on the budget I would like a daily.”