Starlight in Her Eyes (5 page)

“Thanks.” Appearing a bit embarrassed, Toni grabbed the basket and carried it out to the hallway. “You and Miss Serena are the only ones still here tonight,” she said as she returned a moment later. “I guess everyone's out doing their Christmas shopping.” She brushed a strand of graying hair away from her face.

“Could be. I haven't even started.” Colin leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “How about you?” Little could Toni know he had no one to shop for aside from the personnel at the television station and Nikki and Alex. What a pitiful sort he was. With only a few remaining relatives left in England, he hadn't been back to his native country for the holidays in a number of years. Loneliness settled a little more in his heart at this time of the year. The ache grew that much deeper.

“I've got five children and now three grands to buy for,” Toni said. “Not sure how I'm gonna swing it, but the good Lord always provides.”

“Yes, He does.” Colin wondered if the station provided a holiday bonus for the housekeeping staff. Serena would know. He'd noticed how others depended on her, how much they respected her. As much as anyone, she was the epitome of the loyal, solid employee.

“Toni, tell me something. Presuming I want to find a nice Christmas gift for Serena, what types of things might I consider? She's been invaluable to me since I've been here at the station, and I'd like to repay her in some way.”

Toni ran a quick cloth over the top edge of his desk as if she needed to keep busy in case anyone was watching. “You ask me, Serena needs something to make her smile. After what that poor girl's been through in the past couple of years, she deserves laughter. A good, from-the-gut belly laugh, you know?”

Colin fingered a report on his desk, pondering Toni's curious remark. “I'll try my best.”

“I think you're the right person to do it. You make everyone around here laugh.” Toni blew out a sigh. “After Graham died, I thought she'd leave the station, but I have to give her credit for sticking it out. She's a tough one, but I can see the real Serena finally peeking out again. Well, I need to move along to the next office now. Nice seeing you again…Colin. Keep up the great work on the show.”

“Thank you, Toni. Enjoy the rest of your evening, and Merry Christmas to you and your family if I don't see you before the holiday.”

“Same to you.” With a small wave, she departed.

The real Serena? Colin puzzled over Toni's comment which only added to the mystery surrounding Serena. He wanted to speak with her if she was still in the building as Toni had said. Walking through the dark, quiet halls, he noted Serena's door was closed.

No visible light filtered through the bottom of the door and she didn't answer his light knock.

He hesitated when he heard a sound coming from somewhere nearby. Listening for a few seconds, he heard it again. Someone must be in the wardrobe room. Pushing his hands into the pockets of his trousers, Colin rounded the corner of the wardrobe room but stopped beyond the doorway, out of view.

Serena had kicked off her shoes and was sitting on the floor surrounded by piles of clothing and several large, open cardboard boxes.

Colin's attention was drawn to the hanging racks where Graham Preston's clothing had once been stored. All that remained were the multiple garment bags containing the man's suits. The other racks, previously filled with shoes and various accessories, now sat empty.

Should he stay and make his presence known, offer to help, or retreat?

The room was backlit by a single overhead light fixture, creating an eerie effect.

Colin's heart lurched when Serena turned her head and he spied the sheen of dampness on her cheeks.

After wiping her face with the back of her hand, she carefully folded a red sweater and then lowered it inside one of the boxes.

Although he was glad to know the powers-that-be had decided to do something with the man's effects, Colin wondered why that job had fallen to Serena.

No matter the reason, he shouldn't be here. This was something Serena either wanted to do on her own or she'd agreed to handle.

He considered it above and beyond the call of duty but it wasn't his business. Backing up a few paces, Colin turned and began walking down the hallway, lost in thought.

What was it Toni had said?
After Graham died, I thought she'd leave the station, but I have to give Serena credit for sticking it out.

Colin couldn't fathom what any of it meant but he was determined to find out. After pulling on his coat and then closing his office door, he retrieved his cellphone. “Rob? Colin Young here. Listen, Serena Monroe's still here and she's working alone in the wardrobe room. Would you be so kind as to check on her from time to time and then escort Serena to her car when she's ready to leave tonight?”

With assurances from the night security guard that he'd watch over Serena, Colin tugged up the collar of his coat and braced himself for the brisk walk home. Thinking about Serena kept him occupied as he canvassed the few short city blocks.

A woman wouldn't sit on the floor of a dimly lit wardrobe room, after hours, packing up a dead man's clothes out of the goodness of her heart. And weeping over the task.

Clearly Graham Preston had been more than a co-worker or boss to Serena. Paired with his suspicion that she might have a child and no husband, Colin couldn't help but speculate. She didn't wear a wedding ring—neither had he detected a telltale line where a ring might once have resided—but that didn't necessarily mean anything. If he didn't try to find out something, his overactive imagination would pirate him to places he shouldn't go.

Only a few others braved the cold at this late hour of the evening—a man jogging with his large dog and a few businessmen with hunched shoulders who carried briefcases and apparently a load of worry.

Nodding to a neighbor, he took the steps to the building in three bounds. Colin buzzed himself in and hurried up the stairs to the third floor instead of waiting for the elevator.

As soon as he entered the apartment, he shrugged out of his overcoat and tossed it over the nearest chair. Even though he felt somewhat like a stalker, he sat in front of his laptop at the kitchen table and flexed his fingers, ready to begin.

The overriding need to know factor had taken over.
I'm falling in love with her, Lord.
Bowing his head, Colin said a quick prayer for guidance and to accept whatever he might learn.

“Here goes.” He quickly typed
GRAHAM PRESTON
in the search bar.

4

Friday Morning

When Connie, another producer's assistant, met him at the back employee door, Colin was thrown off-kilter. “Where's Serena this morning?” He'd meant to sound polite and casual, but it came out more of a bark.

“She called in sick today, Mr. Young.” Connie looked up at him with wide eyes.

Serena was sick? On a Friday, no less. Serena wasn't the type to feign sickness in order to take advantage of a three-day weekend before Christmas.

“Please go on about your business, Connie,” he said. “Never fear. I'll show up in the studio, ready to go at the appointed time.”

Wearing an expression of obvious relief, the woman thanked him and scurried away.

He'd gone through the motions with Marla and then Trina, the makeup artist. Now, standing in the wardrobe room, Colin darted a glance at his high-tops. Did he dare? No, he couldn't risk Serena taking the brunt for his insubordination. Better to play it safe, so he dutifully donned the leather shoes. He'd wear the high-tops—jingle bells and reindeer nose included—on the air sometime before the New Year, but today wasn't the day.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror, Colin grunted with frustration. He fumbled with his tie, uncharacteristically clumsy. What was wrong with him? No matter what he did, he couldn't get the knot right and make it work. “You can do this,” he said with an air of determination, planting his feet apart and staring at his reflection in the mirror. His tie had never looked as good as when Serena adjusted it for him. A small thing, perhaps, but it wasn't only his tie that Serena made right.

I miss her, Lord.
How sad was he that the woman was gone one morning, and he was moping about like a man who couldn't even get himself dressed properly? He figured he'd done as much damage as he could. “You are pitiful, mate. Time to go.” Positioning his tie clip as he walked, Colin departed the wardrobe room. As he strolled down the hallway in the direction of the studio, a few staffers joined him.

The show seemed to last four times as long as usual.

He faltered a bit when interviewing a local librarian who'd written a book on all things Jane Austen. He'd never understood the unwritten rule that the male co-host should automatically interview the female guests and vice versa.

Perhaps picking up on his unease, Gabrielle rescued him even as she shot him a glare that said
You're British and should know these things
. Right.

Besides the fact he didn't appreciate all things Jane Austen the same way most women did, British or not, it seemed Gabrielle had conveniently forgotten he'd rescued her interview with the American Civil War expert the week before.

Colin paused at his assistant's desk to check his messages after the show wrapped.

Sylvia, a middle-aged, motherly type, stopped typing. “If you'll pardon my saying this, Mr. Young, Connie mentioned that you were cross with her this morning. Someone's feeling a little grumpy, I think. Anything we need to discuss?”

He shot Sylvia a sidelong glance and resisted the urge to grin. “No, Mum. Thanks all the same.” Colin found it amusing how his assistant addressed him formally and yet felt free to treat him like one of her four sons and dispense personal advice at any given opportunity.

The woman faithfully walked during her lunch hour, but it was also a well-known fact she frequented the nearby bakery during her mid-afternoon break.

When he'd dared to tease her about it, Sylvia had given him sharp pinches on both cheeks accompanied by a lecture about checks and balances. Fair enough. Other than that, he had no valid complaints. She always did what he asked without objection, had a pleasant attitude, and often brought him a scrumptious cupcake.

“Enjoy today's power walk. I'll be back in a couple of hours.” He turned to go.

“I'm sure Serena will be back on Monday!” Sylvia called after him.

Chuckling, Colin raised his hand in the air. “Duly noted.”

Between Connie and Sylvia, the station's rumor mill would likely be churning within the hour.

He'd checked the employee database earlier in the morning for Serena's home address. She lived ten miles past the outer reaches of the city limits. Stopping at The Corner Shop, the family-owned restaurant where Serena had picked up lunch for them one day, Colin ordered a double batch of their homemade chicken noodle soup as well a half-dozen of the lemon poppy seed muffins she'd favored. Although Serena would no doubt consider it presumptuous, he hoped she might also appreciate the gesture. Alternatively, showing up on a woman's doorstep unannounced might be among the more foolish things he'd ever done.

In another ten minutes, Colin zipped onto the highway in the sporty blue BMW the station had provided for his use. Before moving to Philadelphia and since the new station provided a vehicle as part of his contract, he'd sold his car in Iowa.

“You'll be recognized around town, so you need something upscale,” Lawrence had told him as he'd handed over the keys.

While the BMW had its merits, Colin hoped to select his own car soon. A vintage model suited him much better.

That thought stopped him. After scraping by for a large part of his early years, now he was contemplating what type of expensive classic car to purchase? Colin shook his head as the sultry female voice on the GPS instructed him to make a right turn in a quarter mile. Thankfully the midday traffic wasn't heavy.

“Lord, you've given me more than I deserve,” he said as he exited the highway and navigated suburban streets slick from the most recent snow. While the cold weather seemed appropriate for the holidays, he'd be thankful when the warmth of spring finally arrived in a few months.

Misgivings assailed him as Colin wiped his feet on the welcome mat and rang the doorbell of Serena's lovely, red-brick suburban townhome. An elegant, festive wreath adorned the front door. He shivered and appreciated the warmth still emanating from the containers of food inside the paper bag. Had he made a mistake in coming? As he debated whether to ring the bell a second time, Serena opened the door.

Her glasses had gone missing and her beautiful blue eyes opened wide as she spied him. “Colin! What are you doing here?”

The word that immediately came to mind was
stunning
. Fresh-faced. Barefoot and dressed in well-worn jeans with a navy blue University of Pennsylvania sweatshirt, Serena's thick, glossy hair tumbled about her shoulders in loose, tousled waves. Without a trace of makeup, Serena's skin was pale but smooth as porcelain, her lips a natural pale pink.

Absolutely gorgeous.

After staring a bit longer than warranted, Colin finally recovered his voice. “I was concerned for your health since I was informed you'd called in sick. I understand you're rarely ill, so I thought I'd best come and check on you.”

Perhaps more interesting was how she didn't appear sick in the least—no telltale red-rimmed, puffy eyes, no dry lips, no noticeable nasal drip.

Sweeping past her and into the townhome, Colin turned about face and handed over the bag. “For you, from The Corner Shop. Fresh chicken noodle soup and lemon poppy seed muffins.”

Serena stared at the bag as she pushed the front door closed with one hand. “Thank you. It's very kind, but you really shouldn't have.”