Journey To Forever

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.