Marriage In Six Easy Lessons. Mollie Molay
He frowned. Finding April Morgan attractive was one thing. Having her in a position to criticize and possibly alter his work was another. “Well, since you ask, not much. Don’t you have another editor I could work with?”
Eldridge’s eyebrows rose in a way that made Lucas uneasy. “No, I’m afraid not. We’re shorthanded at the moment, so April will have to do. No criticism of her intended, Sullivan, she’s one of the best. April will, of course, check for any grammar and spelling errors, and—if I know her, and I do—she’ll try to find a way to make the article a little bit more interesting and exciting. Not all the readers of our magazine are died-in-the-wool academics like yourself.”
Lucas’s soufflé suddenly tasted like mud. “Change my article to make it more exciting? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Eldridge took a final swallow of coffee and sat back and smiled. “I don’t know if you intended your work to be controversial, but I believe it is. The rules you espouse for the mating game are bound to create quite a stir in our female readers.”
Warning bells rang in Lucas’s mind. “Stir? What kind of stir?”
Eldridge was beaming. “Let’s just call it a major difference of opinion. The truth is that while I happen to agree with your conclusions about a woman’s role in the mating game, I’m willing to bet there are a hell of a lot of women readers who won’t. Today’s women, especially the type of readers we attract, are sharp, independent and not necessarily interested in marriage. That’s the reason I decided to ask you to write the article in the first place. The issue is bound to sell like hotcakes!”
“You’re joking!” Now that he understood the reason behind his former fraternity brother’s interest in his study, Lucas felt betrayed.
“Nope, I’m dead serious,” Eldridge said. “It’ll do miracles for our circulation. You’ll drive the women crazy.”
Chapter Two
April managed to run up four flights of stairs to compensate for her lunch time calorie intake before she changed her mind. This type of exercise definitely wasn’t for her. She took the elevator the rest of the way.
She should have known Lucas Sullivan would be sitting in her office waiting for her.
Outside of a raised eyebrow and a glance at his watch, he didn’t speak. He didn’t have to.
She tried a casual smile, slid the folder with his manuscript in it onto her desk, then dropped into her chair. “Sorry to have kept you waiting.”
He shot a telling glance at the pages that had slid out from the protective folder. “Did you enjoy your fries?”
Of all the things she’d expected him to say, a question about her lunch wasn’t it. “How did you know I had fries for lunch?”
“Easy.” He leaned across the desk and pointed to the top page of his manuscript.
April followed his finger to where a liberal blot of ketchup rested on one of his rules. “A happy relationship requires that a woman make her man feel masculine.”
To her private satisfaction, the ketchup stain almost obliterated what she considered to be one of his more offensive rules. A man who didn’t feel secure in his own masculinity wasn’t going to get her sympathy.
She decided to try a little humor. “It’s an editorial comment.” She reached for a tissue and tried to blot the stain away, but all she managed to accomplish was to create a wider smudge on the page, which made the rule completely illegible. “Well, actually, it’s a deletion!”
She laughed and looked up at Sullivan. He didn’t seem the in the least amused. “I can get a clean page to work with,” she said. “Give me a moment.” She picked up the phone, punched a number and spoke into the receiver rapidly, then hung up. “I’ve asked for another copy of page one.”
April tossed the stained tissue into a wastepaper basket under her desk and waited for Sullivan to explode. But outside of a raised eyebrow, he didn’t look upset. Instead, he looked watchful, grim.
She wouldn’t be surprised if Tom had assured him the article would be published as is. He’d said he agreed with Sullivan’s conclusions, after all.
She made a show of rifling through the rest of the manuscript pages. “I’m just about finished making a few suggestions in the margins I think would be helpful.”
Sullivan’s eyebrows knit a frown. “Such as?” he asked quietly, but she could see, from the pulse throbbing in his temple and the rigidity of his body, what the effort to keep from losing his cool cost him.
April smothered a sigh. She knew enough about the academic world to understand that a professor’s reputation depended on continuing to publish. After all, she had to concede, while journalism was her game, he was a noted social scientist. She should have known he wasn’t prepared to take her advice lightly.
In an attempt to soothe Sullivan’s ruffled feathers, she smiled soothingly and moved on. “I’ve never edited a submission that couldn’t use a few changes, if only to make it more appealing to our readers. I’m very aware of who our readers are, their likes and dislikes.”
“In the case of your article,” she continued when he didn’t comment, “I think we need to make a few revisions, in tone if not content. Left as is, I’m afraid the piece is bound to cause a riot among female readers.”
“Strange,” he said thoughtfully. “That’s what Tom said at lunch. “But he sounded as if it was a positive thing, not negative. But I still say no to any changes. I take every word I write seriously.”
“Of course, Mr….er Lucas,” April agreed. “As your editor, I feel it’s my job to suggest constructive changes without altering your original thesis—if for no other reason than to keep your reader’s attention.”
“I don’t think you understand,” he said. “My original study was published in a scientific journal. Tom asked me to write this article based on that study.”
“I know, but—”
“No buts. My conclusions aren’t just a matter of my own opinions. I interviewed a number of grad students and volunteers before I drew those conclusions.”
“I didn’t mean to insult you,” April said, trying for some kind of common meeting ground. “The subject of your article is quite controversial. I’m sure you’re aware of a couple of alternative theories about the mating game that are more acceptable to women.” Including to her.
“Of course, the survival of the fittest,” he agreed. “The selfish-gene theory. Frankly, I don’t think many people stop to think about finding a mate with strong genes to pass on to their offspring.”
April shifted uneasily. “There is another theory, you know.”
“You’re no doubt referring to sexual attraction,” he said with a shrug. “That, however, is merely a matter of biology.”
April could hear Rita’s derisive laughter.
Mesmerized by his disparaging assessment of what surely had to be an important aspect of the mating game, April managed to nod. “Still, a lot of people believe it to be true.”
His gaze changed suddenly. Became warm, roved over her facial features and came to rest on her lips. She almost squirmed.
“I’m a scientist, or if you prefer, a social scientist, Ms. Morgan. My work is based on an actual sociological study of relationships.” His gaze now moved down to her throat. “If you question my credentials, I would be more than happy to provide them for you.”
April raised a hand to make sure the buttons on her blouse were securely fastened. If Sullivan only knew, his credentials weren’t in question. Not his physical ones, anyway, she thought guiltily as her gaze roamed over his