Page 59 of Mistletoe Face Off

I’m getting in deep with Harry, and it seems incredible to me that I’ve only known him for a matter of weeks. That magical date at the Art Institute showed me how he really feels about me, and I found myself opening up to him in a way I've always been so hesitant to do, particularly with a man I have romantic feelings for.

But I haven’t been one hundred percent honest with him, and it’s begun to eat away at me.

I didn't tell Harry that I'm meeting Donald Mitchell to discuss his past.

Sure, I have a professional responsibility to my sources and I need to protect them. Mr. Mitchell approached us with information he wants to share. I can't disclose the fact I'm talking to him to the very man I meant to be writing an article about.

What's more, as a journalist, I’m committed to discovering the truth, and I have a moral duty to report what I find.

These are cardinal rules of my job. Any journalist can tell you that.

Besides, on a purely selfish level, I need this article to get the promotion into National News I so desperately want, and who knows, a big enough story can lead to many doors being opened, even to other media sites. Not having to work for Slippery Stephen? That is definitely a life goal.

But despite all of this, I can't help feeling duplicitous that I'm withholding this information from Harry. He has been so incredibly sweet, and I know I’ve begun to feel strongly for him. The last thing I would ever want to do is hurt him.

All I can hope is that whatever Mr. Mitchell has to tell me is no great revelation and not worthy of a story, even if it means I'm back to square one with my article.

I hear a throat clearing and look up as a stocky man in a flat cap and green plaid flannel jacket approaches my table. “You've got to be the reporter,” he says gruffly without any pleasantries.

What gave me away, I wonder? The fact I’m not a sixty-plus man with a ruddy complexion currently nursing a scotch?

I rise to my feet and offer him my hand. “I sure am. I'm Holly Coleman. You must be Mr. Mitchell. We spoke on the phone.”

He removes his thick black gloves and shakes my hand before he takes a seat opposite me at the recently sanitized table.

“I wanted to meet you because you're the one who hates the guy. You have all those arguments with him.”

“That's me,” I reply with a shrug, my new friend, Guilt, sliding its arm around my shoulders.

He gives me an approving look, as though the fact I have public arguments with Harry is something to be proud of. “Call me Don.”

I smile. “Sure thing, Don. Would you like a drink?”

“I'll take a scotch on the rocks. Make it top shelf.”

I make my way over to the bar where I order him a scotch and me a Diet Coke. Back at the table, I watch as Don takes a sip of his drink before wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

“So, Don, I understand you have some information for me about Harrison Clarke’s background,” I begin. The faster we get this conversation over, the faster I can get out of this place and get home to Macy—and the faster I can send Guilt back to the shadows.

He glances around surreptitiously before he leans his elbows on the table, leans closer to me, and I catch a whiff of his scotch breath. “I know the guy who used to teach him figure skating back in the day.”

“You do?”

He narrows his eyes. “You don't seem surprised that a hockey player used to be a figure skater.”

I think of the way Harry coaxed Macy so sweetly and gently onto the ice, how he showed off his skills dressed in his Santa suit at the arena. No, I'm not surprised he was once a figure skater.

“I saw him perform at one of the Blizzard Christmas events recently,” I reply. “He was surprisingly good, even in his Santa suit, which must have been a hindrance to that kind of movement.”

“He did?”

“It was all over the media. Everyone knew the figure skating Santa was Harrison Clarke.”

He pulls his lips into a line as he scrubs the gray stubble on his cheek. “I bet you didn't know he was involved in a scandal back in his figure skating days.”

I pull my brows together. Harry was involved in a figure skating scandal?

As shocking as this allegation is, I remind myself I'm here as a journalist, not as the woman currently dating Harrison Clarke.

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