Kitabı oku: «Beyond Business», sayfa 5

This was good. She was agreeing with him. Wasn’t she? “So you’ll come with me and meet him?”

She frowned, hesitating. Her delicate brow lowered toward those bright green eyes in a way that he hadn’t seen in so long it made him ache to think about it.

“I’m not sure there’s anything I could do to help you attain your goal.”

“Come on, Mer,” he said, catching the familiarity only afterward, when it was too late to stop himself. “You can charm the pants off him, that’s what you can do. You’re damn good at that.”

She glanced at him sharply and said, “I don’t think any of us wants that.”

He had to be careful of this thinking about her personally, because obviously some part of his subconscious was having trouble distinguishing between the way he used to feel about her, back when they were just kids, versus what he felt for her now that they were nothing more than casual work associates.

What he needed to concentrate on was the success of his plan. Securing Lenny Doss and saving the company. The idea had taken hold and was mattering more and more to him. He couldn’t say for sure if his desire was more a compulsion to help future generations who were innocent of his father’s poison, or if he just wanted to “show up” the old man by saving the company that George had nearly destroyed.

He wanted both, but the balance tended to swing a little more toward the latter than the former.

Not that it mattered. Everyone involved had a common goal, and it didn’t matter how they got there, did it?

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he said. “But you know what I mean. There’s a lot you can do to help persuade him, because you are a smart, beautiful wo—person. And you can present the case in a truthful and persuasive manner.”

She faced him, looking surprised for a moment, then gave one conciliatory nod. “Your faith in me might be a little unfounded. But, fine, I’ll do it.”

“You’ll go?” He couldn’t believe it.

It was almost a date.

At least, the prospect of it made him feel as nervous as he would have if it was a first date. And he was seventeen.

“I’ll go.” She nodded again, that rich brown hair gleaming in the light. “But only to meet the guy and feel the situation out. I’m not promising I’m going to be buying a ticket for the Lenny Doss love train.”

“Honey, that train doesn’t even stop at this station,” Evan said with a smile. He could have pulled her into his arms and kissed her at that moment, but he didn’t.

This was business, he reminded himself. And everything that happened would remain just business, even if the look in her eyes or the curve of her mouth made him think of things that were distinctly unbusinesslike.

So he would take on the manner of the gregarious boss, enthusiastic about his work. “All we need to be concerned with is the Lenny Doss ratings train. And that—” he opened his arms “—is about to call Hanson Broadcasting its home station.”

Chapter Eight

This was, of course, not a date. And they both knew it. So Meredith hated the impulse she had to make herself up for the evening.

More than that, she hated that she wasn’t able to stop feeling the impulse.

Her mother had moved back to Tampa almost a year ago now, and Meredith was back in the suburban Chicago home she’d grown up in. It had made sense for her to move in, since her mother wasn’t emotionally ready to let go of the house, yet wasn’t physically able to maintain it any longer.

Meredith was back in Chicago for her work and, since she needed a place to live, the old house had fit the bill perfectly, though it was sometimes disconcerting to find herself having her Cheerios in the same old kitchen.

That was changing. Meredith wasn’t the sort of person who could actually live in that kind of time warp. But renovation was going slowly, thanks in part to slow contractors and in part to Meredith’s limited funds, so the house still looked very much as it had ten or twenty years ago.

This hadn’t bothered her at all until now, when she was looking into a bathroom mirror that had reflected her image when it was that of a fresh-faced high-school girl getting ready for a date with the somewhat wild, but deep-down sweet, bad boy Evan Hanson himself.

“You shouldn’t be going out with that kid,” her father had told her one night as she was getting ready to go see the new Hal Burkett movie with Evan. “He comes from a bad family.”

“Oh, Daddy, he doesn’t come from a bad family. His father’s just a bully, that’s all.”

Her father had snorted and it was only now that she understood the pain that had tightened his expression for a moment. “If the boy is anything like his father, you would do best to stay as far away from him as possible.”

“He’s really great, Daddy. Honest. You trust my judgment, don’t you?”

“I don’t trust anything where George Hanson’s family is concerned.”

She’d gone to him and hugged him tight, her arms closing too easily around a frame that used to have a lot more bulk to it. He wasn’t healthy. He worked all the time. She worried about that.

“Evan must have had a wonderful mother, because he’s one of the best guys I ever met. Besides you, of course. I know she’s gone now, but he had her up until last year. That’s a lot of time for him to learn to be something other than his father.”

“You always see the best in people,” her father had said with something like amazement. “But you have to believe me when I tell you that sometimes people are not what they seem. Trust, but always be at least a little cautious. Take care of yourself when I’m not there to do it for you.”

She’d kissed his cheek. “I’ll be fine, Daddy, I promise you.”

Her own words had echoed tauntingly in her memory for some time after that.

Now look at her.

Life had changed a lot since those days, yet here Meredith was, still looking at the same old face—though somewhat older—in the same old mirror, trying to accent the same old green eyes and too-full lips to make the same old boy think she was pretty.

She had to be crazy.

Why did this matter so much to her?

It didn’t, she told herself as she carefully brushed a mossy green shadow in a thin line along her lashes. Not too much, just enough to make her eyes stand out.

It made sense that she should look her best for a meeting with talent the company was trying to hire, didn’t it?

So this wasn’t really to impress Evan, she reminded herself as she struggled to bring her long, wavy, chestnut-colored hair under control with a ceramic flat iron. She merely wanted to look her best so that these men would take her seriously professionally. It would have been foolish for her to face them with the distraction of sleep-deprived pale skin and wild, unruly hair.

She had to make herself look like the sleek professional she was.

The clock ticked slowly forward as she prepared for the evening. The truth was, the time seemed to be going extra slowly. It didn’t take that long to do her makeup and hair, but she was so agitated about spending the evening out with Evan that she wanted to keep busy until it was time to leave.

Instead, she found herself dressed up with nowhere to go and nothing to think about other than Evan for an hour before she needed to leave for Navy Pier.

Meredith purposely waited in her car an extra few minutes before meeting Evan and Lenny Doss.

Evan had volunteered to pick her up and give her a ride, but she had declined, and though she couldn’t say exactly why, it probably had a lot to do with the fact that it was weird enough seeing Evan again—she couldn’t quite bring herself to look at him under the front porch light of her parents’ house right now. It would be just too … eerie.

Besides, she wanted to maintain as much control over the situation as she could. And as she sat in the car watching the minutes tick away on the digital readout in the dash, she reminded herself that was exactly what she was doing.

Maintaining control.

Ten minutes past the time that her stomach began twisting and telling her to hurry up you can’t be late she got out of her car, pushed the lock button on her key chain and walked at a measured pace to the restaurant.

Her biggest dread was being the first one there, sitting like an idiot alone at the table waiting for a man she had once known and loved.

Fortunately, both men in question were already there, sitting at a mercifully large round table with half-filled glasses of beer in front of them.

Evan looked amazing in a light-blue band collar cotton shirt and khakis that emphasized his physique without being so tight they looked like he was about to hit the dance floor for a disco contest.

Lenny, on the other hand, was wearing exactly that kind of pants: tight dark-blue jeans with a loud Hawaiian-print shirt that looked about two sizes too small and should have had at least three more buttons fastened in order to look acceptable, if not great.

“Meredith,” Evan called when he saw her. He stood up and beckoned her over to the chair next to him.

Was it her imagination or did he looked relieved?

Meredith gave a smile of thanks to the hostess, took a short, bracing breath and smiled at the two men. “Hi there. I’m sorry if I’m late.”

“Not at all,” Evan said. “Please, sit down. This is Lenny Doss. Lenny, this is Meredith Waters. She works in the publicity department. She’ll be helping us come up with some promotional ideas for your return to network broadcasting.”

“Oh?” She shot Evan a questioning glance. “Did the two of you come to terms on a contract?”

“Not yet,” Lenny said. “But now that I get a gander at the talent they got back at the office, I gotta say, I’m a little more inclined to sign.”

Evan’s ire was immediately up. “Hey—”

Meredith put a hand up to stop him. She could handle this herself, without ugliness. “It’s the on-air talent that we’re concerned with at the moment, Mr. Doss. Do you think you can really live up to our expectations?”

Lenny started posturing, exactly as she’d thought he would. “Just you watch,” he said, sliding a hand through his slicked-back, thinning hair.

The waitress stopped by and discreetly took Meredith’s order for a glass of Chardonnay.

“And can you keep yourself in line?” Meredith went on to Lenny. “It’s my understanding that you’ve had a little trouble with that in the past. Hanson Media won’t put up with you incurring FCC fines, you know.”

“It’s in the contract,” Evan said to her quietly.

She was impressed. For a guy who’d never really worked in the business world, he was pretty good. She turned and gave him a quick wink.

“So what about it, Mr. Doss?” she asked, then took a sip of her wine. It was bitter. She hated wine, actually, but not as much as she hated beer or any of the other alternatives. And ordering a soda would have looked so prim and proper that a guy like this would probably have held it against her. “Should we give you a chance? And if so, why?”

He wasn’t that easy, unfortunately. “The question is, should I give you a chance.” He took a long swig of his beer then belched hideously. The look in his eyes was one of sheer pride. “And I’m not so sure about that yet.”

Evan moved in his chair, effectively putting himself fractionally closer to Meredith. He didn’t do it consciously, she could tell, but it was a protective move nevertheless.

And she found it comforting.

She sank, ever so slightly, against his presence and, bolstered by that, said to Lenny, “You’re going to have to make up your mind, because we’re in talks with Howard Stern, as well.”

Lenny’s eyes shot up to hers. “You are?” Then he frowned and said, “No way. No, you aren’t.”

“He costs more than you do,” she said casually, taking a roll out of the basket in the center of the table. “But, as you know, he’s got better ratings.”

“Only because he’s been in more markets.”

She shrugged and pulled the roll apart, buttering half of it with deliberate slowness. “I don’t know. We’re just looking at the bottom line. Right, Evan?”

His brown eyes were bright with amusement. It looked as if he’d been planning to simply sit back and watch the conversation between Lenny and Meredith unfold, so when she mentioned his name it took a second for him to say, “Right. Bottom line. It’s all about the bottom line.”

Lenny’s small dark eyes shot from Meredith to Evan and back again. She could practically see his mind working. “I hear that,” he said, with much forced casualness. “Uh-huh.” His cell phone rang—an aggressive measure from a Green Day song—and he pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open. “Yo,” he said into the phone. “Speak.”

After a moment, he said, “Heeyyyy, Roberts.” Meredith guessed by “Roberts” he was talking about Karl Roberts, his agent. “I’m just meeting here with Hanson and a chick from the publicity department. They’re trying to talk me into signing but I don’t know, man. What you got for me? Is Clear Channel Radio still nipping at us, too?” He flashed a self-satisfied glance at Evan and Meredith.

It disappeared quickly, though. “What’s that?” Lenny asked. It may have been Meredith’s imagination, but she thought she saw panic flicker in Lenny’s eyes. “They’re not?” He glanced in Evan’s direction again and quickly turned away, saying, “So what’s their offer?”

Another pause during which Lenny looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Interesting. But I want to wait and see what Hanson can come up with. It’s not just about the money. I like these guys.” He winked at Evan and Meredith. “You tell Clear Channel they’re just going to have wait and see what I do with Hanson. I think they may pull through with the winning bid.” He smiled, but his face had definitely paled a shade or two.

Meredith took the opportunity to turn to Evan and when she did she saw by the telltale dimple that he was holding back a smile. So he was clearly hearing everything she was, and they both knew they had Lenny Doss in their sights if they wanted him.

“All right, man,” Lenny said, paling another shade. “There’s more to a deal than just money. You let me finish talking to Hanson here and I’ll give you a call back. In the meantime, you can tell Clear Channel to just cool their jets. We’ll answer them when we’re ready.” He flipped the phone shut and put it back in his pocket, shaking his head and muttering, “Agents. Can’t live with them, can’t kill them.”

Meredith smiled. “Was that your agent?” She knew it was, of course, and she was almost positive from all of Lenny’s blustering and body language that Hanson was his only offer. She almost felt sorry for him.

Nevertheless, she had to play hardball.

Lenny nodded in answer to her question. He was clearly trying to appear ultracasual. “Yeah, he’s going on about some other offer. But, as you may have heard, I’m interested in what Hanson’s putting out there.”

“You know what Hanson’s putting out there,” Evan said, then made a point of looking at his watch. “But listen, Len, I’ve got time constraints tonight, and I know Meredith is on her way someplace else, so I think we’re going to have to wrap this up.”

Meredith nodded, picking up Evan’s cue. “That’s right.” She glanced at Evan. “Don’t you have an appointment tomorrow to speak with …?” She mumbled a name that she hoped sounded like Artie Petro, one of Lenny’s biggest competitors.

Evan picked right up on it. “Yes, I do.”

They both turned to Lenny, who now looked like a raccoon caught going through the trash in the middle of the night.

“Then let’s sign, man,” he said loudly. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Okay, then.” Evan smiled. “We’ll get the contracts to your agent tomorrow.”

“Great. Got another appointment,” Lenny said. “This one’s personal, if you know what I mean.” He gave Evan a lascivious wink.

“I know exactly what you mean,” Evan told him evenly, his voice hard but tinged with humor.

Meredith had to suppress a giggle.

Lenny nodded, oblivious. “Monday morning, 6:00 a.m. shift?”

“You’ve got it,” Evan said.

Meredith was amazed at how soon Evan had him slated to start, but she said nothing.

“Great.” Lenny gave a bobbing nod. “So, it was cool meeting you,” he said to Meredith. “Evan, man, I look forward to working with you.”

“Same here,” Evan said. “You just make sure you keep yourself in line. Don’t forget paragraph eleven.”

Lenny looked blank. “Paragraph eleven?”

Evan nodded. “The contract you’re about to sign. Paragraph eleven says you pay all FCC fines you incur and that incurring such a fine makes our side of the contract null and void.”

“Oh, that.” Lenny waved a hand, but there was a nervousness in his eyes that he couldn’t hide. “Don’t worry about a thing,” he assured them. “I’ll be walking the straight and narrow. No problem.”

“You’re sure?” Meredith interjected worriedly. She’d never, ever been able to keep her straight-and-narrow self in check for long and now she followed her compulsion to make sure Lenny would be inoffensive, even though she knew—she knew, darn it—that she was supposed to be playing it cool.

Lenny looked at her and—she could have sworn—looked empowered by the fear he’d heard in her voice. “Oh, sure,” he said, with a confidence he hadn’t displayed for the past fifteen minutes or so. “The Doss Man can do whatever he wants.”

“Then I hope you want to succeed with Hanson,” Evan said, his voice free of any signs of tension or worry. “Because that’s what we have in mind.”

Meredith sat and watched, ashamed of her momentary exhibition of insecurity and grateful for the fact that Evan seemed to have recovered the situation.

“So I’ll be seein’ ya, man,” Lenny said. “And hopefully you, too,” he said to Meredith, making a grand gesture of reaching for her hand and giving it a gallant medieval kiss. “Here’s to our future.”

She nodded and gave her most winning smile because she couldn’t think of one clever or appropriate thing to say. “Welcome to Hanson,” she said lamely. “I look forward to your success.”

“Aw, honey, you can count on it.” Lenny tipped an imaginary cap and hauled his behind out of the bar, presumably hoping to leave his audience in awe.

Little did he know their thoughts would soon have far less to do with business than with pleasure.

Chapter Nine

Once Lenny Doss was gone, Evan and Meredith looked at each other and smiled with triumph.

“That was brilliant,” Evan said, reaching for what had to be a warm beer by now. He took a gulp and set it down on the table with a bang. “Acting like at the last minute you were uncertain of the wisdom of hiring him?” He smiled, and his smile melted her heart. Or her libido. Or something deep inside her. “That, Ms. Waters, was genius. Pure genius.”

She took just a fraction of a moment to bask in his praise before saying, “I didn’t mean to do that.” Why was she confessing? Evan was impressed with her performance. She’d made a Hanson executive feel she was doing a good job. Why blow it by admitting it had almost ruined everything by a misstep? “But I’m glad it worked out.”

“We make a good team,” Evan said, still smiling at her. His eyes met hers and his smile faded slightly at the corners. “We always did,” he added earnestly.

It would have been easy for her to come up with a smart-aleck retort but they’d fought about the past enough already. It was foolish of her to keep holding on to that when it was so long ago. She’d lived through it, grown up, finished her education, gotten a life. It wasn’t the end of her life and she shouldn’t act as if it was.

“That is assuming Lenny Doss is a good acquisition,” she pointed out. “We may have just put a nail in Hanson Media Group’s coffin.”

Evan shook his head. “No way. Your instincts told you the same thing mine told me—this guy’s a blowhard, but he’s a blowhard with an audience. And he wants to keep his job this time.” He finished his beer and put the bottle down with a hollow clatter. “Do you want anything else?” he asked, gesturing at her half-consumed wine.

“No, thanks.”

It was clear he was wrapping the meeting up, and that gave Meredith a strange feeling of disappointment. She watched him gesture toward the waitress and indicate he wanted the bill.

Meredith sat back in her chair, a little unsure what to do with herself. Part of her wanted to stay with him for just a few more minutes, looking at that handsome face by the flattering light in the restaurant, but logic finally prevailed. “I’d better get going,” she said, standing up and picking up her purse.

“Got a date?” Evan asked uneasily.

She smiled, without committing. “I just need to get some sleep, Evan.”

“Alone?” That half smile was on his face, making her wonder if he actually cared a little or not at all.

“That’s none of your business.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Take it however you want,” she said, trying to sound flip but failing miserably.

“Then how about I at least walk you to your car?” he suggested.

By then they were both standing, and he put his hand on her elbow to guide her out of the restaurant.

It would have been difficult for her to deny him that, since all he was asking was to take her to the car. It wasn’t as if she could claim that an escort would slow her down so much she’d miss out on her imaginary date.

“Fine,” she said. “Thanks.”

“Look,” Evan said, as they walked outside into the muggy summer air. Navy Pier was alive with activity, and high above them the clear night sky shone with diamondlike stars. “I know this isn’t the ideal situation for you, working with me. And, truthfully, I never thought I’d be back here at all, much less asking you to help me save the company. Nevertheless, I think we did a good job together tonight. Maybe Helen was on to something when she asked you to work with me.”

Meredith took a short breath inward. “Do you think she knew about our history? Did you tell her anything?”

Evan scoffed. “I hadn’t talked to my father since—” he hesitated “—well, since I left, all those years ago. And probably not for a couple of weeks before that. I definitely didn’t talk to Helen. Hell, she didn’t show up until after I was gone.”

That was true. All of Meredith’s research confirmed that. Evan was merely a family member, called in at the last moment to try to salvage a company that wasn’t entirely salvageable.

At least, not under its current administration.

“Do you think it was to her advantage or her disadvantage that you and I were … previously acquainted?” she couldn’t resist asking. But she shouldn’t have asked. She knew that from years ago: never ask a question you’re not willing to hear the honest answer to.

Evan looked at her, considering. His brown eyes were warm, like melted chocolate, and Meredith figured it was the result of the beer he’d had rather than his proximity to her. “I think it was to her advantage,” he said at last. “Our advantage, the entire company,” he clarified. “You and I have a certain shorthand between us, I think. It helps in a situation like tonight’s.”

“Shorthand?” she repeated dumbly, though she thought she knew what he meant.

“We understand each other.” He must have seen something in her that resisted that idea because he added, “Just a little bit. A little better than strangers would, anyway.”

Meredith wasn’t ready to agree with any of this, so instead she just let out a long sigh and said, “Maybe. I guess whatever works, we shouldn’t justify it one way or the other.”

Evan appeared taken aback by this, but after just a fraction of a moment, he nodded. “Yup, whatever works.”

They were outside the restaurant now, close enough to hear the raucous music inside, yet far enough to feel distance from the merriment it brought most of the patrons.

Meredith turned her most confident smile on Evan. “I can get to my car myself,” she said. “But thanks for thinking to walk me out, I really appre—”

She wasn’t able to finish her sentence before a small, thin man—maybe a teenager—rushed past her like a cartoon villain, grabbing her purse and yanking it off her arm with such force that she actually fell to the ground.

“Meredith!” Evan was at her side in a moment. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, but—” she panted “—he took my bag. My license, credit cards …” The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. “He has my address.”

“Wait here,” Evan instructed, immediately on guard. “Or go back in the restaurant. I’ll come back and find you.”

“No, Evan, don’t try to catch him,” Meredith objected. “He might have friends, accomplices—”

“I don’t care if he’s got Tony Soprano himself waiting in the wings, he’s not getting away with this.”

Before she could object—and she was ready to—he had taken off, running like a thoroughbred into the night, so fast that she only saw him for a moment before he literally disappeared into the darkness.

Evan Hanson had failed her before, back when it really mattered, but now—at a time when she was at war with her memories—suddenly he was a knight in shining armor.

As soon as he was back safely and she could stop worrying that he was going to get hurt, she’d have to figure out what to think about that.

And whether she wanted to do anything about it.

It was a cheap shot.

Evan almost had him, his hand was just inches away from at least grabbing Meredith’s purse back, if not actually clobbering the guy who took it, but apparently the mugger had an accomplice waiting for him. As he approached an alleyway he shouted something that sounded like “Yo, Carmen!” and another guy—much bigger than the first—stepped out of the shadows and sank his fist into Evan’s cheekbone.

The impact stunned Evan, and he was pretty sure that for a few minutes he looked like a cartoon character, wobbling around, disoriented.

Then the guy grabbed him by the shirt—Evan heard a loud rip—and head-butted him just for good measure.

By the time he righted himself, the two assailants were long gone.

His pride might as well have been in Meredith’s stolen purse as he went back to where she still stood, wringing her hands and waiting for him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, holding his arms out to the side as he approached her. “They got away.”

“They?”

Evan nodded as he approached. “Our pal had a friend waiting for him back by some trash dumpsters behind Melville’s.”

She looked at him in horror. “Oh, Evan—”

“The guy got me when I wasn’t looking,” he said, shaking his head. “Turns out I’m not as young or as fast as I used to be.” In truth the shock on her face made him feel that much more ashamed. He should have been able to overtake one guy and get her bag back. “I’m sorry, Meredith.”

Her eyes were still wide. “We’ve got to get you cleaned up, quick.”

“Nah.” He waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a ripped shirt.” He looked down, expecting to see his shirt torn open to the navel, but instead he saw his light-blue shirt had a large dark stain down the front.

Blood.

Reflexively he lifted his hand to his cheek. As soon as he did, he felt the wide gash and the slick, warm, sticky blood running from it.

That was when it really started to hurt.

He swore under his breath.

“You can say that again,” Meredith said, moving toward him and hooking her arm through his. “My car’s just in the lot over there. Do you think you can make it?”

Her touch felt nice on him, and part of him really wanted to go with her, but it wasn’t necessary. “My car’s just a couple of blocks away,” he said. “I can get to it, don’t worry.”

“You are not driving yourself,” Meredith said firmly.

“Well, I’m not bleeding all over your car.”

“I’ve got tissues in my glove box.”

Evan laughed. “That ought to take care of it.”

Meredith gave him a stern look. “It will until we get you to the hospital.”

“Oh, no. No way. I’m not going to the hospital. This is just—” he touched his cheek again and winced at the pain “—it’s just a flesh wound. By tomorrow it will be invisible.”

Meredith snorted and pushed him along toward her car. “Yeah, because it will probably be under more bandages than Boris Karloff had in The Mummy.”

“That was Brendan Fraser,” Evan joked.

“No, I mean the original, and anyway, Brendan Fraser wasn’t the mummy in that movie, he was—” She stopped, seeing the look on his face. “Okay, you got me.”

“You’re so easy.”

She halted in front of a small green Japanese economy car. “Yeah, well, you’ll be sorry when I clean that gaping wound up with hydrogen peroxide. I may need to go over it a couple of times, just to be sure, you understand.”

He groaned and got into the passenger seat where she’d pretty much pushed him. “I understand.”

She shut the door and hurried over to the driver’s side, her quick steps betraying her nervousness at the whole situation. Blood. Wounds. It was horrible.

“Evan, I really think we should go to the emergency room. That looks like it might need stitches.”

He shook his aching head. “No, Meredith. I’m not going to wait in some overcrowded waiting room all night for treatment I could give myself.”

She started the car and drove to the intersection with the main road. “Where do you live?”

It was a question he wasn’t prepared to answer.

“Evan?” she prompted, when several seconds had passed and he hadn’t answered yet.

How could he tell her he was sleeping in his office without sounding like a pitiful loser? Even though it made perfect sense to him because he wasn’t sure he’d be sticking around long and he didn’t want to commit to a yearlong lease of an apartment or condo when he might be gone in a month, saying the truth right out loud to Meredith was embarrassing at best.

But there was no way around it without sounding as if he didn’t want her to know where he lived.