Journey To Forever
Carol Steward
Eight Days and 300 Miles That was how long privileged fledgling journalist Nikki Post had to deal with notorious radio personality Colin Wright and the staff on his eight-day fund-raising trek from New Mexico to Wyoming.Yet instead of the immature prankster she'd been warned to expect, Colin was generous and handsome - with a smile that reached the depths of Nikki's soul. As the days counted down, he helped her write the article for her grandfather's newspaper - and a kiss shortened the distance between them.But when trouble threatened to bring the trip to a premature end, would Nikki's role in Colin's life end, as well…or continue forever?
Colin couldn’t help but wonder if his past had finally caught up with the media. He wanted out.
Out of the room and out of this charity commitment. Now, before Miss Nikki Post plastered her suspicions across the front page of the paper.
Journalists need to get a life of their own, he thought. Suddenly he had the strongest urge to make a face at her, just like in fifth grade, when he decided girls were the worst invention God had ever made.
He looked back at Nikki, realizing how innocently right his thinking had been. How many times would it take before he learned—beauty is only skin deep?
When would the Lord introduce him to a woman whose heart led her life? One who didn’t care where they ended up, as long as they were together? Still, the unexpected happened to those who least expected it. Did such a woman even exist?
CAROL STEWARD
wrote daily to a pen pal for ten years, yet writing as a career didn’t occur to her for another two decades. “My first key chain said, ‘Bloom where you’re planted.’ I’ve tried to follow that advice ever since.”
Carol, her husband and their three children have planted their roots in Greeley. Together, their family enjoys sports, camping and discovering Colorado’s beauty. Carol has operated her own cake-decorating business and spent fifteen years providing full-time child care to more than one hundred children before moving on the other end of the education field. She is now an admissions adviser at a state university.
As always, Carol loves to hear from her readers. You can contact her at P.O. Box 200269, Evans, CO 80620. She would also love for you to visit her Web page at www.carolsteward.com.
Journey to Forever
Carol Steward
You whom I took from the ends of the earth and called you from its farthest corners, saying to you, “You are my servant, I have chosen you and not cast you off;” fear not, for I am with you, be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.
—Isaiah 41:9–10
To Bette, who has been my spiritual mentor
and always my dear friend!
And to my family, for all your love and support.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Letter to Reader
Chapter One
Colin loosened the knot of his tie and glanced around the elaborately decorated office, pacing the floor as if it were a bad day in the dugout. He couldn’t imagine why his new employer wanted to meet him away from the radio station.
Ellis Chapman sauntered through the entrance and extended his hand. “Nice to see you again, Colin. How’s the shoulder recovering?”
“I finished therapy last month. It will never be able to take the rigors of baseball again, but it’s doing fine, thanks.” He had met the staunch icon of the community at several media functions over the years, before the career-ending rotator-cuff surgery forced him off the field. From there, he had moved into a temporary sports-announcing job, where he’d discovered his life’s dream—spreading God’s word over the sound waves.
“And the job? Is it what you thought it would be?”
When he became bored with sitting on the sidelines during the off-season of baseball, Colin had accepted Chapman’s invitation to host a Christian radio show, where the spiritual and emotional challenges provided unexpected rewards on a daily basis. “I’m not missing sports nearly as much as I feared I might.”
His boss grasped Colin’s hand and enthusiastically pumped his arm. “Good,” he said, motioning for Colin to follow him into his private office. Colin sank into the soft leather chair and waited for the point of the meeting to surface. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about one of the topics you discussed on your show. We have a few skeptics in the community who think Christian broadcasting is no place for a retired baseball player. I think you’ve opened a lot of eyes to the fact that there are Christians everywhere, even in professional sports.”
Feeling as if there was more Mr. Chapman had to say, Colin straightened his back, suddenly thankful for the privacy. If he was going to be fired, he didn’t want an audience.
Before Colin could cut in Ellis added, “I have an interesting proposition for you.”
That didn’t sound too promising. Anything that started with interesting had to mean trouble. He was likely being demoted to the minor leagues of radio. Whatever that meant, Colin wasn’t interested in another career change.
Mr. Chapman rambled on about needing to boost the ratings for the radio and the readership for the newspaper. Apparently advertising had dipped into the danger zones on both.
“We need to do something to grab the audience, and timing is critical. The board has been tossing about ideas, which brought you to mind.”
Colin decided Mr. Chapman must have listened to his talk on “Financial Responsibility for Christians.” He supposed he didn’t blame him for doing what he had to do in order to keep his acquisitions in the black. Cutbacks were common with the economy in a slump. Three years ago, the Denver Gazette had been on the verge of bankruptcy. Ellis Chapman had bought it and turned it around, adding newspaper publishing to his communications conglomerate. Failure wasn’t in Chapman’s vocabulary and Colin highly respected him.
Chapman’s assistant slipped into the room and quietly filled crystal goblets with sparkling water. “Pardon the interruption, Mr. Chapman. Miss Post’s car broke down and she’s going to be late. She sent her apologies.”
Chapman shook his head, but his expression indicated he truly cared about the misfortune of the woman, whoever she was. “Thank you.” He stood, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets as he paced the room in silence.
Colin watched, his patience tested. How will I fit into Chapman’s plan? He realized the world of Christian radio might not appreciate his unconventionality, from his shaved head to his high-profile and highly competitive career. He knew it seemed unlikely that a believer could remain faithful when hit with so many temptations in the limelight. He’d learned long ago that the best way to avoid false accusations was to keep focused on the Lord. He couldn’t let doubt throw him a curveball now. “I have to admit, your call piqued my curiosity. Is there a concern with my work?” Colin’s question caught Mr. Chapman’s attention.
Was that humor Colin saw in Ellis’s expression?
“Oh, no. As I mentioned, Colin, your show got me thinking about this younger generation. I listened to your discussion about commitment to giving in the community and took the tape to the board for their opinion. Which is why I’ve called you here today. I guarantee this is right up your alley.” Chapman, who was nearly as round as he was tall, leaned against the giant desk in his office. “I recall your name being tied to several fund-raisers during your baseball career.”
Colin tugged at his tie, recalling the antics he had performed to raise money for charity. “Sir, I don’t follow you. Do those pose a problem?”
“If there is anyone who can make news out of something so prosaic, it’s you, Colin. And what absolutely galls me is the success you have doing it.” A smile crinkled his round face.
“Prosaic?” Not exactly a compliment. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Your stunts were absolutely mundane tasks anyone could do, yet you drew the audience right in with you. Who would have ever thought pushing a peanut down the Sixteenth Street Mall with your nose or sitting in every seat of every professional ballpark in the country would bring in thousands of dollars? It shows that all of us can do something to help those in need.”
“Has someone just found out about this? You had to have known my willingness to make a fool of myself for charity’s sake before the board agreed to hire me. I happen to find helping others rewarding,” he said, unable to keep the anger out of his voice.
“Calm down. You’ve got it all wrong. What we want to know is if you’re ready for another stunt.” He explained that the executive board had voted unanimously to ask Colin.
Relief washed over him. “That’s what all of this is about?”
“That’s it. Every year we do something to get involved with the community. We buy school supplies, coat drives, collect bedding, the usual. But this year, we want to boost our exposure and do something that will make a lasting impression on the community, so we’d like something with a bit of pizzazz. We immediately thought of you, if you’re willing.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Actually, we’re considering drawing the audience into that decision, if you’re game. We’ll give them two weeks to come up with the best stunt idea and they’ll win a prize. The board is meeting here in a few minutes, in fact. I’d like you to be here.”
It had been three years since his last stunt, and it had taken months for his body to recover from that one. He’d been in shape then. How difficult would it be now that he was no longer on a training schedule? “That’s fine. When is the big event?”
A deep laugh rolled from Chapman’s chest as he stood and paced the perimeter of the room. “That depends on the event itself. But we’d like it sooner rather than later. I want the public to see you, to watch you and to be able to cheer you on. We need them to connect with this project.”
“Where is the money going?” Colin heard female voices outside Chapman’s office door.
“Several agencies have approached us for donations, but I’m leaning toward Good Samaritan…” Ellis said just as the striking blonde blew into the room like a tornado in search of a target.
“It’s dead! Just blew a water pump and some head gas thingies right in the middle of the mousetrap.”
Colin cringed at the thought of breaking down on the worst highway maze in the city.
“I can’t believe I drove that jalopy….” She brushed the silky hair from her eyes and dropped into the chair, flying back to her feet immediately when she landed on Colin instead of the plush leather. Her eyes widened when she spun around and looked at him. “Oh dear.”
Colin didn’t know what to say or do.
“I didn’t see you,” she said, backing away. She glanced at Mr. Chapman and covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“No harm done,” Colin said, wondering if she was always so easily flustered.
“I didn’t think the meeting had started yet…” Her fair complexion turned a rosy pink. “I, uh, I’m sorry I interrupted.” A quick glance at her watch brought a frown and she pulled her sleeve back over the shiny silver band.
He knew he shouldn’t stare, but he had no choice. Her pastel blue pants were badly wrinkled and smudged with dirt. Frustration flashed in her ice-blue eyes. He stood and extended a hand. “I’m Colin Wright. Mr. Chapman and I were just discussing a few things, you didn’t interrupt.”
She clasped his hand briefly and whispered hello, all the while eyeing him with a calculating expression.
Mr. Chapman cut her off before she had a chance to introduce herself, though even without the verbal notes, Colin had already concluded from her confusion and the smears of black grease on her chin that she was the unfortunate Miss Post.
“This is Nicole Post, an intern at the Gazette. I’ve suggested she might want to sit in on the board meeting, see another side of the business. Why don’t you take a minute to freshen up, Nicole, and we’ll meet you in the boardroom.”
She looked young and energetic, even if her car wasn’t. Both her energy and an unreliable vehicle were typical of a college student, though she appeared slightly older and more mature than the traditional coed, though her actions called that into question.
“I’ll be back as soon as possible.” She backed her way to the door, trying to avoid looking at Colin.
Her embarrassment made his heart beat a little quicker. When their eyes met, he smiled. He should know better than to try to convince himself that he was simply being a gentleman by ignoring her inappropriate behavior. In most situations, barging into the CEO’s office would be an automatic strikeout, not to mention sitting on an associate’s lap, accident or not. Still, there was an innocence about Nicole Post that intrigued him.
As quickly as the thought entered his mind, he reminded himself that it would be career suicide to consider flirting with a fellow employee, even if they were in different branches.
Nikki rushed into the nearest ladies’ room and locked the door behind her. “I can’t believe I just waltzed into the office throwing such a tantrum that I didn’t even notice a gorgeous man sitting there,” she mumbled. She lathered her face and scrubbed the greasy smudges from her cheeks with paper towels then splashed her face with water and touched up her foundation. There was no need to add blush, Mother Nature had given her an abundance of that already.
She wiped the wrinkled trousers with a damp towel and straightened the linen suit as her mind flashed back to Colin’s smile. Unbuttoning the jacket so it wouldn’t hug her derriere, Nikki glanced at her hair and dismissed the idea of making an impression on anyone, let alone a popular public figure like Colin. His deep-set smoky blue eyes had taken her breath away, and he probably knew it from the twitch of the muscle hidden beneath his five o’clock shadow. She glanced at her watch, realizing it wasn’t even noon, so his whiskers were an intentional look. That figures, she thought. He’s a hometown kid riding the wave of his brief encounter with notoriety. Today’s news, tomorrow’s heartbreak. Nikki tossed her head and raised her chin.
She slipped into the boardroom as the discussion turned to publicity. Finding only one seat left, across from Colin, Nikki felt him watching her as she sat.
Colin spoke quite eloquently for a baseball player, she decided as he agreed to participate in the fund-raiser.
She couldn’t believe the board had actually agreed to Colin representing them. Just a few months ago, they weren’t even convinced it was a good decision to have a professional athlete on the air. Publicity stunts were juvenile and immature. Surely the conservative board would veto the entire idea before someone took it seriously.
“I appreciate your offer to help, Colin dear, but I don’t think a Christian radio station should have to resort to frivolous stunts to bring in an income,” Mrs. Franklin said with her hands folded in her lap.
Nikki was pleased with the comment, suddenly realizing this might not have been Colin’s idea. If he hadn’t proposed the idea, who had? Was Chapman Communications in financial trouble?
The advertising manager shook his head. “We’re not keeping the money, Mrs. Franklin. It’s going to a charity. We benefit from the exposure, not the income.”
Nikki let out a mental sigh of relief.
A heated discussion about the impropriety of the idea broke out again, leaving she and Colin watching the arguments volley from pro to con.
“If I might add something here,” Colin interrupted. “Ever since September 11, non-profit organizations have suffered a terrible blow, as has our country. Efforts to help the victims were quite generous, and now it seems the public and the victims are ready to shift their attention to other needs that still exist elsewhere.”
Around the table, Nikki watched heads nod.
“Whether the task seems trivial or not doesn’t seem to matter. Pushing a peanut down the Sixteenth Street Mall with my nose raised $612,000 for medical research. Stadium-sitting raised nearly eight hundred thousand. Parachuting onto the pitcher’s mound made a couple of hundred thousand for medical bills for a leukemia patient. We can’t begin to underestimate the generosity of our community. I’m sure this will light a fire for giving.”
Nikki managed to subdue her shock at the total of Colin’s efforts, though she instinctively glanced in his direction.
The director of publicity interjected more astounding and unbelievable facts. “Colin’s stunts raised nearly two million dollars in the aggregate. It may not make any sense to all of us, but that isn’t the point. We need something to garner more attention for the newspaper and the radio station while raising money for those in need. We should set an example for the community to follow.”
Nikki’s attention wandered to the man across from her. Colin didn’t even have the decency to argue the embellishment. How could anyone have raised that much money if there wasn’t something in it for him?
“I believe Colin can help us meet that goal, as well as raise money for the homeless shelter at the same time.”
Something in the conversation finally provoked a reaction from Colin. His dark brows furrowed, accentuating his receding hairline. “Homeless shelter?”
“Yes, Good Sam Shelter. Didn’t I tell you that?”
Leaning his elbows on the mahogany table, Colin matched fingertips on both hands and shrugged slightly. “I’m sure you did. I must have missed the details, I guess.” He seemed irritated by the information.
“That isn’t a problem, is it?” Nikki asked, to the surprise of everyone there, including herself. The words were out of her mouth before she realized it.
Colin’s tan looked considerably paler than it had ten minutes ago. Despite the odd expression, he shook his head. “No. I can’t think of a more worthy cause.”
Nikki determined then and there that she was going to find out the truth behind Colin’s reaction.
Chapter Two
Colin couldn’t help but wonder if his past had finally caught up with the media. He wanted out.
Out of the room and out of this commitment. Now, before Miss I-Know-You-Have-a-Secret Post plastered her suspicions across the front page of the paper. He inhaled slowly, carefully freezing his face in a confident smile.
She hadn’t actually rolled her eyes at the ideas posed during the discussion, but she had yawned more than once. Still, her smile seemed to brighten with his slip of the tongue. Maybe it was her eyes. Did eyes smile and taunt, like heartless children making fun of little boys when their lives fell apart?
Don’t be ridiculous, Colin. She’s just an intern, not a reporter.
Nothing had stopped him from helping others before. No one had ever questioned why he’d agreed to participate in any of the previous fund-raisers. He glanced back at Miss Post, feeling like her next meal. She had barely taken her eyes off him the entire meeting.
Journalists need to get a life of their own, he thought. Suddenly he had braces again and Molly with the big brown eyes and curly blond pigtails was staring at him, and he had the strongest urge to make a face, just like he had in fifth grade, when he decided girls were the worst invention God had ever made.
He looked back at Nicole, realizing how innocently right his thinking had been. God had created Eve as a helpmate, but she’d turned out to be a temptress, responsible for Adam’s fall. How many times would it take before he learned—beauty is only skin-deep?
When would the Lord introduce him to a woman whose heart led her life? One who didn’t care if he ended up in a homeless shelter, as long as they were together. Not that he ever planned to let his life get so far out of control, but still, every day the unexpected happened to those who least expected it. Did such a woman even exist?
Colin smiled and waited for Nicole to glance his way again. It was the closest he could manage to making faces. Especially at this woman. Her broken-down car and a little grime did little to disguise her graceful poise and flippant attitude. He could feel his expression moving toward an unflattering scowl when Colin heard his name.
“Personally, I don’t think we should take time for a contest to choose the events for a stunt. If the shelter is overcrowded now, surely we can come up with something Colin is willing to do. What if Colin walks across the state?” Mrs. Franklin asked in her shaky voice.
“Every organization sponsors walks.” Chapman’s smile disappeared as he leaned back in the leather chair and tossed out other stunt ideas, none of which impressed Colin.
“Pocketbooks are a lot thinner these days. And face it, Colin, the public expects more from you. The more outrageous the better.”
“I agree, but I’m not pushing a peanut across the state. If we only do a ten mile walk, the event will be out of the public’s mind in a matter of an hour or two,” Colin said adamantly. “The focus of this should be on the needs of the homeless. Many of them live in their cars, or sell them for money to put food on the table forcing them to take alternative methods of transportation. I like the border-to-border idea.”
Mr. Chapman’s assistant handed the publisher and each board member a packet on homeless families, suggesting everyone take time to peruse the statistics and send Mr. Chapman ideas. Colin felt memories return as he glanced at the pictures in the brochure. He felt perspiration on his forehead.
“Do you really think this is a good time for this?” Colin asked.
Ellis rubbed his hand over his clean-shaven chin. “Trust me,” Ellis said with emphasis, “this issue is a magnet right now. Anything you do in the name of this proposed shelter will draw attention.”
More ideas crossed the table before the meeting officially closed. Colin and Mr. Chapman walked back toward his office. “I’m sure we can come up with something creative,” Chapman stated.
Colin paused at the assistant’s desk, expecting to schedule another meeting. “This promotion is a great idea, and I’m glad to be part of it.” Colin could feel God’s hand taking control of the project even as they spoke. Even in the crevices of his memories, going through with this didn’t seem quite as frightening as it had an hour ago with Nicole Post staring him down like a head-hunting pitcher.
Chapman motioned Colin to his office. “Unless you have someplace else to be, why don’t we continue the discussion now?”
“Now is fine,” Colin said, knowing better than to tell his boss no. Unless he were meeting with the President of the United States, nothing had better be more important than hearing what his boss had to say.
“Let’s consider how to go about this. As you said, homeless people often sell everything, even their cars, to get by. What if you don’t use any motorized vehicle during the journey? What if you make the trip on a pogo stick, or a scooter?” Ellis jotted notes, then shook his head. “Wait. Are those the contraptions with those obnoxiously loud motors?”
“I believe so,” Colin said.
“That’s out then.” He scribbled a note, then looked at Colin again.
He could almost see Ellis’s brain working to come up with a preposterous mode of transportation to keep public interest. “I may as well get my neighbor’s son’s tricycle to make the trip.”
Mr. Chapman’s eyes lit. “Now you’re thinking!”
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Chapman. I was joking.”
“Call me Ellis. And I’m not. Look at the attention you’d get if every day of the journey you use a different mode of transportation. One day a nonmotorized scooter—I bought one of those for each of my grandchildren one Christmas.” He laughed, obviously recalling something about the holiday.
“My sister broke her wrist using hers.”
“Maybe we should reconsider. We don’t want any injuries.”
“I don’t think we have anything to worry about. She won’t be joining us, and I had no problem with mine.”
“Good. Another day you could take roller skates. We need something to really catch the eye.”
Colin scratched his chin. Ellis had a point. “I’m not trying to be difficult, but are we talking from the east to west borders of the state? I’m game for a few different methods of getting there, to a limit, but I don’t think anything except bicycles are allowed on I-70 through the majority of the mountains.”
“We’ll have to work with the Department of Transportation on that.” He pressed his intercom and asked his secretary to connect him with someone in that government agency. A few minutes later he finished a discussion with the man and turned back to Colin. “Colorado Department of Transportation won’t even consider it on I-70, but they felt we could work something out going south to north. Not all of it could be on the interstate, but there are several sections where foot traffic and bicycles are allowed. If we contact this guy once we have a plan, he’ll push the permission through.”
Colin was impressed. They discussed the personnel needs for the project, how quickly they could pull it all together, and how soon to start publicizing. A lightbulb flashed on. “How about naming it the ‘Back on Track Relay’?”
“Relay? Oh, I see, not a relay where the people change with each leg, but one where the ‘event’ itself would change. I love it!” Mr. Chapman slapped Colin on the back.
“I think this is going to be my best moneymaker yet,” Colin enthused.
“Why don’t we guarantee it? How about if I double the pledges if you finish the trip without any motorized vehicle in a week?”
Double? He held out his right hand. “Deal.”
“Not so quickly. We need to iron out a few more details.”
Colin pulled his hand slowly to his body. “Such as?”
“I’d like my own crew, from the paper, to report every step of the way.”
A watchdog, Colin thought. That shouldn’t have surprised him, either, but it did irritate him. He felt certain God would provide for this project, he couldn’t start doubting His plan already. “Don’t forget, we do have some issues to iron out with the Department of Transportation, and I’m sure that the larger the procession the more problems we’re going to run into getting clearance,” Colin said.
“I’ll keep it small. One or two people, max,” Ellis said with a smile. “In the meantime, you’d better start training again. Who knows how long it will take CDOT to approve the highway permissions. I know they’ll move as fast as they can, but we need to be ready when it comes through. And, as you know, it would be wise for you to spend some time at the shelter to get to know the full scope of the project.” Ellis walked around his desk and offered a hand.
Colin stood, sensing their meeting was over. “I’ll be sure to make arrangements to do that,” he said, confident that he wouldn’t learn anything about the situation that he didn’t already know by heart.
Chapter Three
Pushing a peanut down Denver’s Sixteenth Street Mall was a far cry from walking across the state from New Mexico to Wyoming. Colin wanted to be prepared for anything.
“You’ve been on that cycle for almost an hour now. What’s the scoop?” His bodybuilder buddy eyed Colin suspiciously. “You’re not up to another of your harebrained stunts, are you?”
Colin rubbed the soft stubble on his scalp and laughed. He’d spent two weeks trying to figure out how to break the news to his best friend. Another week and he would find out about it, along with the public, and Colin would never hear the end of it. He may as well get it over with now. “Harebrained—no. Fund-raiser—yes.”
“I thought sitting in fifty-five thousand stadium seats had brought you to your senses,” Jared said, sitting on the stationary cycle next to Colin’s.
“My quads seem to have forgotten about that. And right now isn’t a good time to remind me. I’m already committed to the fund-raiser. It’s not even an option to back out.”
Jared laughed. “Right, like you would if you could. No offense meant, but you never walk if you can run. Never drive if you can ride…”
“Point made already.” He didn’t need to hear a full listing of the childhood pranks they’d pulled, not to mention the publicity stunts he was so well-known for. God hadn’t wired him to sit still, especially when there was something to be done.
Jared crossed his arms over his chest and groaned. “Seriously, Colin. I haven’t seen you here in a long time. You don’t want to overdo it.”
“I play roller hockey every week with no problems. Don’t worry, I’m feeling great.”
“So, how long do we have to get you ready?”
“I’m not sure. I’d like to wait until the temperatures are out of the hundreds, at least. September would be just about right.”
Jared looked at the readout on the cycle and shrugged. “Not a bad time for someone who hasn’t been to the gym in over a year. And what’s the cause this time?”
Colin hesitated, but knew he had to get ready to face the public with his support. “A new homeless shelter.”
Jared’s eyes opened wide.
“The existing downtown shelter has been over-booked for two years,” Colin said before Jared could expound on his reaction.
“Whose idea was the shelter?”
“Chapman Communications’s board. What could I say? He’s my boss.”
Jared’s almost silent click of the tongue confirmed that he knew Colin had really jumped at the opportunity. “You’re kinda between a rock and a hard place with the boss then, aren’t you? And I don’t suppose you considered…”
Colin ignored his friend’s dubious expression. “I’ll work through it. I’m hoping you’ll come along to keep me going.”
“Keep you going?” Jared said in surprise. “Just how far is it this time?”
He hadn’t added the mileage up completely, he hated to admit. “We’re still working on permission from the Colorado Department of Transportation, so I don’t have an exact figure yet…”
“The Department of Transportation!” Jared whacked him on the shoulder. “What are you thinking?”
“Suffice it to say, it’s a lot more than ten miles. I estimate roughly three hundred and twenty-five miles, depending on how much we can travel on the interstate and how much we have to take side roads.”
Jared barely let him get the sentence out. “Have you forgotten the reason your baseball career really ended? The one you kept quiet? Asthma is nothing to ignore.”
At least Jared had the decency to lower his voice so there was no chance anyone else could hear. “I haven’t had any recurrences in four years.” Colin looked around the gym when Jared stood, noticing that the patrons were clearing out as the workday started. “The doctor never even confirmed it was an asthma attack. If I wasn’t willing to endanger my life for baseball, you know I wouldn’t risk it for anything else. Look, I’m having no problems.” Colin took a deep breath and forced it out without any problems. “See, I’m cured.”
“Have you totally lost your mind? Your own well-being aside, raising money for a homeless shelter is a touchy issue these days. Haven’t you read all of the letters to the editor lately?”
“Of course I’ve read them. Why do you think I’m doing this? Someone has to do more than complain about the problem. It isn’t going away.”
“This isn’t like the money you raised for cancer research, Colin,” Jared stated as he handed Colin a water bottle. “Who could argue the nobility of that? Unfortunately, society doesn’t look at the homeless person in the same way as it does a sick person.”
Colin guzzled the water while Jared spouted off his objection to the project. “You don’t have to remind me of that, either. It’s a perfect opportunity to educate the public. No one is immune to this problem.”
“You aren’t worried that someone will find out that you lived in a shelter? Your dad didn’t handle it well at the time. I doubt he would appreciate you bringing it up again.”
“I don’t relish the idea of revisiting that time, but I explained it to Dad already. He’s hoping it doesn’t have to become public knowledge, either, but he understands it will help others in need, so he’s supporting me in my decision. It was twenty years ago and I was eleven, after all,” Colin said with a shrug. It was the fear of upsetting his family’s lives that worried him, but he knew it would be callous of him to let his past stand in the way of helping those in need. “This is just as important as any other epidemic. More and more families have become victims of the economy. On my first visit to the shelter I met a couple who had gone through the husband’s battle with cancer, only to be evicted from their home when he’d barely been released from the hospital. What kind of a landlord would kick a sick man’s family out?”
“We don’t know what the landlord had been through.”
Colin nodded. “I shouldn’t be so idealistic, I know. But I can’t help feeling sympathy for those families who move from place to place to put a roof over their heads. The public complains about people sleeping in the parks and on the streets, so we’ve come up with a possible solution.”
“How are we supposed to keep up with the growing need? We can’t just keep building more shelters. All around you hear about problems with people abusing the systems that are trying to help them.” Jared grabbed the spray bottle of disinfectant and the terry-cloth towel and wiped down the vacant equipment next to Colin.
“It’s not a perfect system, but we’re trying to help. Even if I can’t stop the injustices, I can’t leave people to sleep in the parks. We have to do something!”
“We?” Jared shook his head then laughed and held up his hands in defeat. “I have yet to figure out what drives you to do these crazy things, but you know I’m not about to miss the fun.”
“Glad to keep you so entertained.” The stationary cycle came to a steep hill setting and Colin stopped talking just long enough to work his muscles through the burn. A comfortable silence encompassed the room, broken only by the soft whirr of the exercise machines. Colin enjoyed today’s workout and wondered why he’d stopped coming. Had it been the injury, or was that simply an excuse? He loved the old warehouse that Jared and Sandra had renovated. The gym overlooked the South Platte River, the city’s largest amusement park and on a clear day he could even enjoy a view of the Rocky Mountains. All that, and the gym wasn’t far from Colin’s loft apartment in the newly fashionable lower downtown, or “LoDo” area. He had no good excuse for not working out more often.
“On a lighter note,” Jared interrupted Colin’s peaceful retreat. “We’re having a Fourth of July barbecue and Sandra is inviting a few friends.” He crossed his formidable arms across his chest and feigned innocence. They both knew his wife was itching to find Colin another girlfriend.
Colin inhaled deeply, preparing for the imposing hill ahead on the simulated bike trail. “I’m busy, but thanks anyway.”
“Busy, or not ready?”
“Both.” Colin knew he shouldn’t hold it against anyone else that his ex-girlfriend had expected him to spend every penny of his savings on an engagement ring. His blood pressure went up every time he thought about it. For that amount he could have furnished his entire loft and had some left for a rainy day. As painful as it was to learn they had different attitudes about what was important in life, Colin was thankful for the incident. Friends and family had warned him about her exclusive tastes and indulgences. It was his own fault that he had chosen to ignore their concern until it was nearly too late.
“It’s been almost a year,” Jared reminded him. “Besides, you-know-who’s not even invited.” Colin had tried for months to convince himself that just because she’d been a friend of Jared and Sandra’s, it didn’t mean all of their friends were the same.
“I certainly hope not,” Colin said, trying not to sound bitter. “She’s moved to where the ‘real’ money is.”
“Oh,” Jared said. “Then there’s nothing to stop you from coming. You’re not my only single friend, and there aren’t just single women coming, either.”
Colin’s eyes opened wide and he looked at Jared. “I can find my own dates when I’m ready. Thanks anyway.”
“That came out all wrong. I meant we have married couples coming, too. Happily married. And a few singles. The purpose of our barbecue is not to set you up, okay?”
Colin shook his head. “You can stop while you’re ahead. I’m working that day, but thanks for the invitation.” After a few minutes, Jared gave up and left Colin alone to battle his own issues.
Across the room Colin noticed another tortured athlete taking revenge on the equipment. He glanced over to make sure Jared wasn’t keeping too close a tab on him before taking another look at the woman. His friends meant well, but he simply wasn’t ready to date again. Especially not if it meant being with another socialite like Bev.
Jared left the room, and Colin again admired the woman, getting the feeling that he had met her before. The very fact that she was here, at the most reasonably priced health club in LoDo, told him one thing about her, she appreciated a bargain. Her name-brand sweats and shoes looked soft from heavy use. He considered her choice of modest, well-worn sweats and T-shirt, which impressed him a lot more than the skintight leggings and equally revealing athletic tank tops many women wore. Obviously she didn’t care what anyone thought. Her attention was focused on the view as her ponytail bounced in rhythm with the movement of her feet. A baseball cap hid her eyes.
He recalled his mother’s disapproval of his usual choice in women, Bev in particular. Too thin, too fussy and only after his money. He guessed Mom’s instincts had been right after all.
Colin glanced at the woman again. She’d mastered the orbital machine, the same one that had sent him flying like an uncoordinated geek the first and last time he’d tried it. She seemed to be concentrating on whatever was playing on her headphones instead of trying to impress anyone else. Why did she look so familiar?
The arrival of a few more customers stole his attention, saving him from making a fool of himself right here in front of Jared, who paused briefly to greet his customers then made a beeline to Colin.
“You’ve been riding for nearly ninety minutes. No need to overdo it the first day back.” Jared said. “And since you’ve officially asked me to take care of you, check your pulse and take ten minutes to stretch before you leave.”
Colin touched his index finger to his carotid artery and leaned forward to see the clock, conveniently located near the woman who had motivated him to ride half an hour longer than he’d planned, hoping for an opportunity to introduce himself.
Unfortunately, everyone in the gym pretty much kept to themselves. This was not the “in” place to meet available singles. Of course, in his college days, he hadn’t needed to find a place to meet girls. They’d found him. He had been the only baseball player in the state to make it to the major leagues.
“Right on target,” Colin said a few minutes later as he stretched. “I haven’t turned into a couch potato just because I haven’t been here, you know.”
“Obviously not, or you’d be in real trouble about now. Hope to see you more often with your new project in mind. Make sure you let me know the dates so Sandra and I can put it on our calendars.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow. I should be able to give you more details then.”
He showered, stopping to say goodbye to Jared on his way out, half wishing for another chance to run into the blonde, but she was long gone. “Think about the barbecue.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Colin didn’t feel especially festive lately, and besides, the last thing he needed right now was the distraction of a woman.
Chapter Four
Colin’s day had been dampened by another article in the morning Gazette about the group of home owners planning to fight the sale of property for the proposed shelter. Ever since Ellis made the public announcement, the editor had received a barrage of letters arguing for and against it. When Colin saw protesters marching outside the station, he felt as if monsoon season had broken loose over Denver. Mr. Chapman had to be pleased with the results of his plan so far. Papers were selling like never before.
After training for two months straight to get ready for the event, Colin would hate to see the project fall apart. He leaned heavily on Paul’s advice to the Philippians—“He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” Keep the faith. God started this project, He’ll see it through to the finish.
Despite the discouragement, Colin hoped Jared and Sandra’s Labor Day party would cheer him up. He walked up the steps and rang the doorbell, not really expecting anyone to answer. With a lush yard like Jared and Sandra’s, there was no need to stay inside. Laughter spilled through the seams of the fence and Colin made his way around the house to the trellised gate. Their black Labrador Lizzy greeted Colin with her fierce bark. When Colin said hello, the dog gave him an embarrassed look and wagged her tail in welcome.
“Colin! I was afraid you were going to stand us up again,” Sandra exclaimed, glancing at her watch. “Better late than never. The good news is there’s plenty of food left, the baseball game is almost over, and you didn’t miss the Rockies’ fireworks display.”
Heads turned and friends waved. He felt like a show-boater with Lizzy’s bark and Sandra’s booming voice announcing his late arrival. “Thanks. Looks like you’ve been busy.”
“Can I fix you a plate?” Sandra was a hostess extraordinaire, a disgrace to the feminist movement, according to Colin’s sister. The Hayes’s barbecues were traditionally standing room only. Tonight was no exception.
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll make my way to the buffet table in a while.”
Jared arrived with a tall glass of lemonade and yelled, “Forty-five minutes until showtime!”
Colin found an empty chair in a dark corner of the yard and sank into its cushions, fearful that he’d fall asleep and miss the fireworks display altogether. This last week he’d been pushing twenty miles a day. “Looks like you and Sandra outdid yourselves as usual.”
“Yeah, too bad you…” Colin didn’t hear another word Jared said. His attention fell on the blonde from the gym and he realized immediately where they’d met. With her scruffy workout clothes and baseball cap she had looked nothing like she had at the board meeting.
Jared followed Colin’s gaze. “I didn’t think you were interested in dating again.”
“I’m not.” Colin shrugged and shook his head. “I’m just surprised to see her here. Did you invite all of your patrons?”
Jared laughed. “No, but she’s a regular. Let me introduce you.”
Colin looked at her again, and their eyes met. She immediately lowered her chin and turned away, as if she didn’t want to talk to him, either. “No thanks, I’m not interested in being set up.” Which was exactly what had to be happening. What were the odds of running into the same woman three times in a couple of months without someone’s intervention?
“Aren’t you at least a little curious? She’s not like the others, trust me. She’s…”
“No offense, bud, but I’d be more interested in watching a documentary on ant migration.” Colin ignored Jared’s comment, heaved himself out of the chair and headed for the food, Lizzy close behind.
“I don’t think ants migrate.” Jared tossed his paper cup into the trash and blocked the stairs through the garden. “You don’t understand…”
Colin glanced over his shoulder and noticed the woman walking toward Sandra. “Oh, too bad, she’s leaving…” Colin said with quiet sarcasm. “Now can I eat?” He rushed to the table and started filling his plate with salads and warm barbecued ribs.
“She’s not like Bev, or Robin…”
Colin tossed Lizzy a grape, watching her roll it around in her huge mouth as if it were a toy. “Do you see a pattern developing here, Jared?” Colin pushed his way past Jared and away from the woman. “You have a propensity for finding me women with expensive tastes and no heart.”
“I beg to argue with you there,” Jared said defensively.
Colin grabbed a handful of chips then reached for the ladle to add extra sauce to the ribs. “You already have the perfect wife. Find me another Sandra, and I’ll let you introduce us. Until then, I don’t want a thing to do with another one of your rich friends.”
Jared cleared his throat and popped open a soda tab. “Hi, honey. Hey, Nikki.”
Colin didn’t want to believe Jared would stoop so low as to be joking about this. “Nice try,” he said to his friend, and turned, hearing Lizzy yip seconds before she lunged for his plate. Colin spun around to get it out of Lizzy’s reach.
The plate crumpled against the blonde and the ladle flipped from his hand, splattering her head with warm barbecue sauce, sending it dripping down her beautiful face.
“Oh, no,” Colin said, feeling the earth shift to slow motion. “I’m so, so sorry.” He motioned to Lizzy, who was leading Jared on a wild scramble through the yard, ribs dangling from her mouth, sending guests in every direction. “I, uh, Lizzy…uh, that all happened so fast.”
She leaned forward to let the sauce drip off her face and tugged her hair back into a ponytail. He wasn’t totally sure if she was smiling or crying.
“Here are some napkins,” Colin instinctively wiped the spicy sauce from her forehead, eyes and high cheekbones, overcome with an inkling to kiss it from her lips. Now that’s a brilliant way to convince Jared that I’m not interested in romance.
“Let me get you a wet washcloth,” Sandra said, right before she disappeared into the house.
“Ooh, it’s burning my eyes,” Nikki said, closing them tighter.
Colin grabbed another handful of napkins and started at the top of her face again. “I think this is going to take more than a washcloth, I’m sorry to say. Here, you have something on your lip.” He was reaching up to pluck the piece of onion from her upper lip when she pursed her lips and blew it off, right onto Colin. He flinched, then started laughing. “Guess I had that coming.”
She covered her mouth with her hand and her eyes blinked open, then she immediately closed them again. “Is there some water around? I really need to rinse my eyes.”
“I’ll help you inside. Sandra’s probably getting a shower ready.” He thought about the light-colored carpet and glanced again at the bright red sauce she wore from head to toe. “Slip your shoes off out here and I’ll clean them while you shower.”
He helped her balance while she blindly tugged the red leather mock cowboy boots off. Colin noted her tiny feet and slender ankles.
Sandra appeared just as he started to direct her through the door. “Here you go.” She tucked the washcloth into Nikki’s hand.
Colin looked at the mess he’d made and back at Sandra. “It’s in her eyes and hair. Do you mind if she showers?”
“My thought exactly. I set towels out on the floor already, so come on in.”
“Are you sure it’s that bad? I need to be at work in an hour,” Nikki said, still blinded.
“Trust us, you’ll want to get that off as soon as possible.” Sandra led her into the privacy of the master bath and Colin returned to the yard. Jared had finally retrieved the ribs from the dog and was examining her jaw.
“Is Liz okay?” Colin asked as he wiped the spatters from Nikki’s boots.
“Yeah,” Jared said from inside the fenced kennel. “I’m just making sure she didn’t get any bone slivers stuck in her cheeks. Luckily I got all but one rib from her before she could eat more. I’m sorry about this.”
“Who can blame her, the food smelled delicious.”
Jared locked the kennel gate behind him, before saying goodbye to a departing couple. “Sorry to disrupt the party, everyone.” He shrugged. “The fireworks should be starting any time now. Have a seat and enjoy.” Despite the welcoming invitation, the guests expressed their thanks and left.
Colin and Jared carried food into the kitchen and put it away while they waited for Nicole to finish showering. The water ran and ran. Sandra spread the splotchy jeans across the kitchen table and started scrubbing. “I can’t get them washed before she leaves, and mine won’t fit her, so I’ll just have to spot-clean them for now.” She scrubbed until the only remnant was a wet circle or two. Then she threw them into the dryer. “Her blouse is ruined, and the jean jacket is probably history, too.” Sandra heaved a sigh. “I can’t believe Lizzy did such a thing.”
They heard the water turn off and Sandra ran to the laundry room, then disappeared with Nikki’s jeans. A few minutes later, both women returned. Nikki’s silky hair was pulled to the top of her head in a ponytail and the whites of her eyes were beet-red. He wasn’t sure if she’d been crying or if the hot-pepper seasoning had burned them, or both. Sandra asked Jared for a baseball cap.
“All of mine are old and d—” Jared began.
Colin interrupted. “I have some from the radio station in my car. Let me get you one.” He ran to his vehicle and returned a few minutes later, wishing he could have done more to make the situation right. There were faded circles on her jeans where Sandra had scrubbed the barbecue sauce from the denim. Colin handed the cap to her.
“This seems a little out of order, but I thought I’d introduce you to Nikki Post,” Sandra said.
“Yeah, we’ve met.” He hoped she hadn’t heard his remark about the women Jared had set him up with, or if she had, that she’d forgotten by now.
Nikki looked confused and more than a little wary. She didn’t offer her hand in return. “Hello again.” She slipped her feet into her boots, ignoring him.
He looked at both of the hosts, who were blatantly studying the interaction. “I’m really sorry about this, Nicole,” he said, wishing someone would send him a lifeline from the awkward silence.
“It’s Nikki.”
He felt as if Jared had dumped a cooler full of ice-cold sports drink over his head. “It’s a small world, Nikki. We seem destined to run into each other…literally. Please accept…”
Nikki’s voice softened. “No need apologizing, accidents happen. Thanks for the clothes, Sandra. I won’t have time to change before work, so I’ll bring them back to you at the gym.”
Despite her brush-off, he could at least make an attempt to be cordial. “You didn’t happen to write the article on the homeless shelter in this morning’s paper, did you?”
Her tanned skin turned pale. “No, I’m an intern, remember? I’m sure that went to Gary, our local reporter.” She eased herself away just as the fireworks display started with a series of loud explosions and a shower of colorful sparks. Nikki paused to look. “I’m bouncing between proofreading and copyediting right now, so I don’t write the articles.”
Something didn’t make sense. Why had an intern who was still proofreading attended a board meeting? “I see. How much longer do you have in your internship?”
She shied away, looking even more like a frightened puppy. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m running very late.”
“I realize that. You might mention my concern to Mr. Chapman. I’m sorry, maybe another time.” He stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest.
She smiled politely. “Enjoy the fireworks, Mr. Wright.” Nikki turned to Jared and Sandra, thanking them before making a quick escape.
Jared punched him playfully on the shoulder. “What are you thinking, man? She’s an intern. She has no pull with old man Chapman.”
He watched Nikki climb into an older-model sedan and shook his head. He had to admit, she didn’t look or act like the typical money-hungry dates Jared usually set him up with, and he couldn’t imagine anyone hiring such a meek woman as a reporter for the city’s largest newspaper. Still, there was something intriguing about Nikki Post. “I wouldn’t bet on that one.”
Nikki took a deep breath and closed herself inside the compact car. What a mess. She felt her face flush just thinking about what Colin must think of her after seeing the tantrum she had thrown over the car breaking down. She’d been dressed in her worst sweats, hiding under a baseball cap and just getting over the flu the day she’d hidden from him at the gym. How could he have even recognized her? Now this.
What an impression I must have made. After his comments about rich girls with no hearts, she wished they’d never met. It was far easier to admire his lean athletic build, drop-dead smile and well-groomed appearance without the tainted memories.
The shower had been the perfect opportunity to let the tears flow. The accident had sent her back to spring semester of her freshman year of college when she’d overheard her dance instructors. Nicole is nothing more than a spoiled, chubby wannabe. Someone should have had the courage to tell her she had no future in dancing long ago.
The incident had been the start of a dark time in her life that she’d tried to forget. She had literally stopped eating, begun exercising, lost more than she had gained since arriving at school and danced even harder to prove them wrong. The final blow came during the audition for an exclusive dance troupe. Torn ligaments and extensive surgeries ended her dream of a professional dancing career.
The injury gave Nikki’s advisor the necessary ammunition to force her to drop her dance major. Friends encouraged her to find another aspect of performance until the injury healed, but she couldn’t carry a tune and she had no acting talent. She had taken the semester off and sunk into her own self-pity.
She looked over her shoulder, to the shadows of Colin and Jared next to the house with the fireworks behind them. She had recognized Colin’s magnetic smile immediately and tried to leave. Suddenly she felt angry and confused, just as she had on the day her dreams were ripped out from under her.
Nikki’s hand automatically turned the key in the ignition and then turned on the radio as she pulled away from the party. “Just find another dream,” she whispered, wishing she could fend off her skepticism. “How difficult can that be?” She got onto the interstate, barely noticing the fireworks. Her mind wandered back to the doubt she’d seen in Colin’s eyes. She should be use to that look by now. She’d grown up with it.
Again, a year later, after her third surgery, her parents had encouraged her to take time off from school to evaluate her future. She’d quickly figured out that they expected her to find a wealthy husband and give up on finishing her degree. And they’d almost succeeded, with Rory Drake’s help.
The pressure from their breakup, school and her parents’ disapproval had sent her further into a depression. She’d gained back every ounce she’d lost, plus some by graduation. When her grandfather had invited her to become an intern at the newspaper to see if she would like to follow in his footsteps she’d accepted the challenge. For a while she had thought she’d found something to make her parents proud of her. Apparently this wasn’t the right decision either. One day in the copyeditor’s seat and she had people angry with her already.
She might have an eye for writing, but she obviously had no savvy when it came to journalism. She’d had to fill in with that article for this morning’s paper. If she hadn’t had to cover for the copyeditor in a pinch, this would never have happened.
She quickly walked the two blocks from the parking lot carrying a fruit tray for the Labor Day potluck the staff had planned. Morale needed a boost, according to the managing editor. Which, of course, meant eating.
Everyone had brought treats, yet she felt more than conspicuous adding her contribution to the table after everyone had already served themselves. Thinking of all the delicious calories on the huge table, she pushed her way through. “Here’s a fruit tray, help yourself.” For the first six months of her internship, she’d gained steadily, despite her efforts to go to the gym. Only recently had she broken through and started losing. She wasn’t about to blow it now.
Quietly, Nikki fixed a plate, then headed back to her desk. She sat down and began to contemplate the direction her life was going.
Misty turned her chair around to face Nikki’s. “Surely your diet can have a day off!”
She glanced at her friend, mustering a quick smile. “Oh, it’s had a day off already. I just came from a picnic,” Nikki said softly. “I found out that I made a big mistake last night with some filler I used in place of the water-theft article. Apparently some people think we should ignore both sides of the shelter issue.”
Misty nodded. “I’ve heard this issue is getting heated. So what?”
She nodded and silently turned back to her computer. Nikki had been surprised to find she enjoyed the fast pace of the newspaper. She hadn’t minded any aspect of the job, until today. She hoped the copyeditor would be back at work tonight so Nikki couldn’t make any more mistakes. How had she let her grandfather talk her into this?
“Is something wrong?” Misty rolled her chair closer. Misty looked into her reddened eyes and must have seen more than barbecue sauce. “It is, tell me what’s happened.”
“I met the man doing the fund-raiser for the homeless shelter at the picnic tonight. He wasn’t very happy with our support of the other side.”
“What support?”
“Remember, I filled in for Michelle last night? We were short on copy, so I took this one from the top of the list.” She picked up the paper on her desk, turned to the article and waited while Misty read it.
Finally, Misty said, “This is a newspaper, not a periodical. Journalism is putting your own beliefs aside to tell the full story. That piece was not an editorial. Colin isn’t used to someone opposing his causes. That story told about the reasons the opposition is fighting the shelter going into their neighborhood. You didn’t do anything wrong. News is what sells papers. Is that what has you so blue tonight? He’s in the business. He should know that conflict is what sells papers.”
Nikki thought again of Colin Wright. Of his big smile, and those deep blue eyes that seemed to reach to the depths of her soul. How could she explain her mangled emotions to anyone without seeming like a spoiled rich girl?
Don’t do something stupid, Nikki. She’d had these low days before, and they always seemed to pass. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I thought I was going to be in trouble.”
“Nah! You’re going to have to get a thicker skin if you’re going to survive in this business, kid.”
Nikki laughed. Misty couldn’t be any more than five years older than she was. “Kid?”
Misty blushed. “Sounded good to remind myself that I’m not the new kid on the block anymore. You’re not the first to have a tough time with a the requirements of the job. We all go through it time and again. Some days it’s really tough to be a good employee and a Christian when it’s obvious that some journalists live for sensationalism. That’s probably what Colin wanted to think.”
Nikki looked at her friend’s bright face and returned the sympathetic smile. “Thanks, Misty. I feel like there’s just so much I don’t know about publishing.” Misty had taken Nikki under her wing from Nikki’s first day on the job. Even she hadn’t made the connection between Nikki and her grandfather, which would make it even more embarrassing that Nikki knew so little about the industry when people started figuring it out. She made a mental note to enroll in some journalism classes at the college next semester. She had put it off too long already. With a degree in business administration with an emphasis in nonprofit organizations, she’d thought Grandfather would find a job that matched her skills. Now I do sound like a spoiled rich girl.
“Take a break, Nikki. You’re way too hard on yourself. I don’t know what burdens you’re holding inside, but it’s time you cast them aside. Life is too full of opportunities to dwell on what’s already past.”
That would be wonderful advice, if she only knew how.
“Nikki, in my office, please,” the managing editor said as he walked past, a platter of food in front of him.
“Great, I told you I’d be in trouble.”
Chapter Five
“Close the door,” Paul said as Nikki stepped into his office.
So much for Misty’s encouragement. Nikki had made a big mistake, and now they were going to fire her. Even her grandfather couldn’t rescue her now.
“I understand Colin Wright called in and complained about the article on the home owners’ fight against the sale of the lot in their neighborhood.”
She nodded, wondering if he’d overheard her telling Misty about it, or if Colin had talked to Paul himself.
“I want to assure you that you wouldn’t have seen that story on the copyeditor’s list if it hadn’t been approved. Michelle is going to be out for a few more weeks and we think you’re ready to move up.”
“Really?”
Paul chuckled. “You can move your belongings into the desk behind Anne’s for now.”
“Now? Tonight?”
“Unless you have something better to do, Anne will start training you tonight.”
Nikki stood and sidestepped to the door. “Of course not. Thank you.”
She hurried to tell Misty, who smiled with that all-knowing attitude of hers. “Told you so. Before you know it you’ll be looking down from the corner office.”
She laughed nervously. “Hey, maybe I can jump right over the reporter stage of the internship.”
“Now you are dreaming,” Misty said, tossing her empty plate into the trash. “Enjoy the new job. I’ll miss your company.”
Nikki found a box and moved the contents of her desk to the new one down the hall. She and Anne worked closely for a few hours, then she settled into the layout for the next night’s feature stories. Within the week, Nikki was working independently on the earlier shift.
Four days later she was called to the managing editor’s office again. What could she have done this time?
She folded her hands in her lap and waited, glancing over her shoulder now and again. She caught a glimpse of Paul as he barreled toward his office, around the maze of desks. He took a deep breath, seated himself behind his desk and shuffled through the papers piled on top without saying a word. He pulled one from the stack and handed it to Nikki. “This explains the assignment far better than I could,” he said gruffly.
“Assignment?” That was a term normally reserved for the reporters, not editors.
He shrugged. “I had nothing to do with the decision. Read it for yourself.”
She read the memo with her name at the top and Grandfather’s signature at the bottom. Nikki’s heartbeat doubled, her voice faded to nothing. “But…why?”
“Don’t ask me. Apparently I’m just the messenger around here. Chapman took Amanda off the story and put you on. I guess today’s your lucky day. You’ll be working with Gary. He’ll keep up on the fight for the land here while you’re on the road. Meet with him in the morning to get started.” The managing editor snatched a stack of papers from his basket and stormed out of the door. “The way I understand it, you have a week until your new assignment, so let’s put tonight’s issue to bed before you get too excited.”
Excited was an overstatement. Terrified was more like it.
On her way back to her desk she avoided the temptation to look up at Grandfather Chapman’s office window, overlooking the cluttered desks below.
Everyone knew her simply as Nikki Post, intern and aspiring journalist. She had hoped the internship would be short-lived and she could jump right into the management office, which suited her personality far more. The business manager was long past retirement and Nikki was getting impatient waiting to move into the junior ranks for his position.
Yet while she wanted the business office job, she wanted to earn it on her own merits, not because she was the owner’s heir. That was the agreement, and if Grandfather felt she needed the internship to prepare her for the business world, she would trust him. But trusting him didn’t mean she would enjoy every step along the way.
During the past ten months she’d learned almost every aspect of the newspaper except one. Reporting. Even she hadn’t a clue why her grandfather had put her into this miserable situation. She stared at the assignment in disbelief.
Two weeks with Colin Wright, the man who had reached celebrity status more from raising money for charitable causes than because of his baseball career. Ironically, Colin was all she’d heard about on the news, the radio, and at work since the picnic at Jared and Sandra’s. She just wanted the fund-raiser to be over. Double that sentiment now. She thought she had figured out a guaranteed way to avoid him at the gym by going late in the afternoon when his talk show aired, but even that hadn’t worked. His voice met her at the gym door, as they played his show over the speaker system. Now it seemed her efforts were for naught.
Gary tossed his clipboard onto the stack of messages on his desk, sending loose papers flying. “Evening.”
She jumped. “Hi,” she all but whispered.
“I hear you’ve reached the pinnacle of your newspaper career.” Gary glanced at the mock-up for the next day’s paper and added it to the stack. “Congratulations. What’s the scoop?”
She didn’t dare tell the best reporter on Grandfather’s staff that she’d never written a publishable article in her entire life. Nor did she have any desire to do so now. Nikki wasn’t a journalist. She liked working behind the scenes—way behind the scenes. One day soon her grandfather would realize his mistake. Very soon. She looked down, wishing she had someone she could confide in. “You don’t know?”
He laughed. “Well, I understand we’re going to work together. Are you okay with that?” She nodded half-heartedly. Gary leaned against the desk and laughed at her answer. “Can’t be that bad, it’ll get you out of copyediting.”
Nikki liked copyediting. She’d even come to enjoy writing headlines. “I suppose that’s one way to look at it. I’m just not so sure I’m really ready for reporting.”
“I haven’t found the memo yet, what’s our assignment?”
Nikki cringed. “Some radio jock thinks he can make it from New Mexico to the Wyoming border in a week—no, that’s when we start…” she glanced at the memo again, noting the handwritten scribbles “…make that eight days for his relay deadline.”
“I heard rumblings of his latest stunt. Colin Wright, from WWJD radio, right?” Gary patted her shoulder and laughed. “Talk about a cushy first assignment. You’ll have some luxury motor home to travel in and the exclusive story that everyone and his dog will be following. The whole city could burn down and no one would care, but get Colin on the fund-raising committee, and the city stands at attention.” Gary went on, appearing to be irritated, yet impressed at the same time by the attention Colin received. “If any of the rest of us went down the Sixteenth Street Mall pushing a peanut with our nose, we’d be sent to the loony bin. He does it, and out come the TV crews and pocketbooks,” he said with a contagious laugh.
“So I’ve heard. Seems a little juvenile to me.”
“Just young at heart. Colin’s a good guy. The boss must like you.”
She shrugged uncomfortably. “Funny, I was wondering what I’d done to tick him off.” She couldn’t wait to find out exactly what Grandfather was thinking. They’d agreed that she wouldn’t be expected to write. She’d rather be running the business, not ruining it.
Unfortunately, her questions would have to wait until she got home, where there was no chance of anyone eavesdropping on their conversation. “Have a good day, Gary. I’m not on the beat till tomorrow. What time should I report?”
“Is eight too early?”
“Actually, I’m still on copyediting tonight. Could we make it eleven?”
“Sure, that’ll work fine. And don’t worry about this assignment, what could go wrong?”
Nikki returned to her desk and tried to regain her focus on the fourth page in the Faith section of the Friday paper, where the feature article was Colin and the fund-raiser. She just couldn’t seem to get away from him.
Little did Gary know how much could go wrong when it came to Nikki’s writing. Not that she didn’t like writing, but all she knew about the journalistic format was what she had learned from proofreading and copyediting.
Paul barked orders across the room and Nikki had no more trouble focusing on her current job. There were several aspects of her present life that she wouldn’t miss. Working when most everyone else was at home sleeping was one. Daily breakdowns of the presses wouldn’t be missed, either. Barking, over-stressed editors would definitely be third on the list.
At the end of her shift, Nikki slung the straps of her leather handbag over her shoulder and prepared to leave. She sensed Grandfather watching as she stepped into the dark morning, which was ridiculous; he was probably at home sound asleep right now.
“Good night, Miss Post,” the security officer said. “Would you like me to walk you to your car?”
Nikki forced a smile and shook her head. “Thanks, Wes, I’ll be careful.” Walking down the street to the economy lot, she was especially mindful of the corners that had become shelters for the homeless. When she reached the car she peered into the backseat, then looked around before inserting the key into the lock.
Nikki felt a chill on her neck, as if someone was watching her. She looked around as she tried to turn the key, but couldn’t see anyone. She jiggled the key every which way until it finally moved. She threw her purse and the memo into the passenger seat and scooted inside. Nikki slammed the door and locked it, vowing to buy a new car, with or without family money. Surely a reporter’s salary would allow her to get something more reliable than this.
When Grandmother had suggested she move to Denver after college, it was a perfect opportunity to avoid facing her parents’ disappointment. Until the day she had overheard her dance instructors talking, she hadn’t realized how pampered she had been growing up.
Her parents had encouraged and admired her every move, never accepting the fact that she wasn’t destined for greatness. She thrived on their praise, blinded by their vision for her. They were furious when she broke her engagement to Rory and went into denial when she had to give up dancing. Only then did she realize her problem wasn’t a lack of talent, but that she simply hadn’t found the right one yet.
Her grandparents had been the only ones who understood Nikki’s need to find her own way. She wanted to be loved for herself—not for her connections or her parents’ money.
Grandmother had been the one to suggest that Nikki not mention her family or their status in the community until she was ready to do so. It had worked so far. She hadn’t told a soul and she was feeling good about her friendships.
Still, when Grandfather had shown her this car, insisting that she didn’t want to draw attention to herself, she’d wanted to cry. There had to be a happy medium between this heap of junk and the collector-series convertible her parents had given her for her college graduation.
Thankfully, Grandmother had put her foot down when it came time to find Nikki an apartment. She found a small but comfortable condominium in a newer area that wouldn’t raise too many suspicions.
Nikki bit her lower lip and worried it between her teeth. As friendships grew stronger, she felt more uncomfortable holding back her identity, as if she should be ashamed of her family. If Colin’s opinion counted, maybe she should be.
The assignment rolled around in her mind, leading to more questions. Did Grandfather want her to go with Colin because she was family? Did he not trust Colin? And if so, what was her complete role in this? Watchdog? Relay police? Enforcer? She didn’t like the prospects at all. Colin Wright didn’t appear to be the type to want a woman telling him what he could and couldn’t do.
Grandfather didn’t know anything about the mishap at the barbecue, the flowers and card that Colin had sent the following week as an apology for ruining her clothes, or her struggle to forget the man.
How could she tell Grandfather that while she appreciated his encouragement she did not want this assignment? She might not know exactly what she did want to do with her life yet, but she didn’t need any hands-on experience to know that she wasn’t cut out to be a reporter. Had coming to work here been a mistake after all?
The many nicknames she’d heard for Grandfather over the last ten months came back to her. She’d seen enough to understand why some employees were unhappy with him. He had many decisions to make each day, and some, like assigning her to Colin Wright’s story, were without a doubt going to make someone unhappy. She sympathized wholeheartedly.
When she got home, her answering machine was flashing. Knowing it was probably her grandfather trying to reach her, she touched the play button and began changing into a tank top and cotton boxers then stretched out across the bed to rest before her morning run. Good thing today was a ten-miler. She needed it.
“Nicole, meet me at the house for breakfast in the morning. I want to explain this assignment to you.” The machine beeped to signify the end of her messages and Nikki drifted off to sleep.
When she awoke from her nap, she changed clothes, tied her running shoes and took off for her grandparents’ house. Eight miles later she entered the code into the security system and passed through the tall wrought-iron gate as it opened.
Grandfather met her at the door. “I don’t like you running at this time of day by yourself, Nicole. You never know who could be watching you.”
She lifted her right hand to reveal a can of Mace, and a cell phone dangling from the left one. “I’m careful.” Nikki leaned forward to give him a kiss, wondering if he had seen someone hanging out at the newspaper recently. Don’t be ridiculous, Nik, it’s just your imagination, she thought. “I was shocked by your memo. I thought we agreed I’d somehow skip over the reporter phase of the internship.”
He patted her shoulder. “Not even any small talk this morning?” He nodded. “I know you don’t want to write, but I need you on this assignment, Nicole.”
She opened a bottle of spring water and poured it over ice in a crystal goblet. “I wouldn’t know where to start to write an article for a newspaper. Especially for one the size of the Gazette.”
Grandfather looked at her with such astonishment that she was ashamed of herself for disagreeing with him. “I trust you, Nicole. You won’t let me down.”
“I simply don’t want to embarrass you, Grandfather. I know there’s a lot riding on Colin finishing the stunt, and I’ve never written anything for publication.”
Grandmother joined them then, carrying a platter of fresh fruit. “Morning, Nicole. This is quite a treat to have you here for breakfast today.”
Nikki followed Grandmother to the kitchen to help serve the rest of the meal. “It came as quite a surprise to me as well, but at least a nice one. You do know what’s happened, don’t you? Grandfather has assigned me to write articles on Colin Wright’s fund-raiser!”
Grandmother handed Nikki a homemade quiche and followed with a basket of pastries and a pitcher of juice. “You’ll do just fine, darling. Sometimes it’s good to stretch ourselves.”
“Is that what you call this? Stretching myself? Humph.” Nikki set the pie plate onto the trivet and seated herself between her grandparents. Grandmother said a quick blessing, barely squeezing it in before Grandfather continued to discuss her assignment.
“I’m not kidding when I say I have no clue how to write an article, Grandfather.”
“You read the newspaper every day. You’re a bright girl…” Every insecurity from her childhood returned with that one phrase, bright girl. She’d heard it often enough from her teachers, her dance instructors and even her parents. It had turned out to mean she wasn’t the most intelligent girl in the class, nor the most talented dancer, and she’d better find another means of support. She nibbled on her quiche and bypassed the temptation to drown her sorrows with a Danish.
Êîíåö îçíàêîìèòåëüíîãî ôðàãìåíòà.
Òåêñò ïðåäîñòàâëåí ÎÎÎ «ËèòÐåñ».
Ïðî÷èòàéòå ýòó êíèãó öåëèêîì, êóïèâ ïîëíóþ ëåãàëüíóþ âåðñèþ (https://www.litres.ru/carol-steward/journey-to-forever-39926746/) íà ËèòÐåñ.
Áåçîïàñíî îïëàòèòü êíèãó ìîæíî áàíêîâñêîé êàðòîé Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, ñî ñ÷åòà ìîáèëüíîãî òåëåôîíà, ñ ïëàòåæíîãî òåðìèíàëà, â ñàëîíå ÌÒÑ èëè Ñâÿçíîé, ÷åðåç PayPal, WebMoney, ßíäåêñ.Äåíüãè, QIWI Êîøåëåê, áîíóñíûìè êàðòàìè èëè äðóãèì óäîáíûì Âàì ñïîñîáîì.