“I have got to get a nap, Jonah. This is going to be a long couple of days. I have to prep for my interview. This guy isn’t your average politician, you know.”
“Napping, eh? That’s what they call it here in the States?” He kissed my neck tenderly and stroked my chin with his thumb. He played up his British accent and continued his kissing. I didn’t protest too much, not at first.
“Seriously. I have to be at my best with this guy. He’s going to come ready with talking points, and I’m going to have to confront him with the truth. Sparks are going to fly.”
Suddenly Jonah pushed me on the bed and lingered above me, his perfect face the picture of desire. “I’m up for sparks flying.”
I grinned back at him, my heart full of gratitude to whoever watched over me, hopefully, my parents. I had such a wonderful life. He was a great guy, and I was worried about nothing. That’s what I told myself as I embraced him and kissed him with all my being. This all felt too good to be true.
Sadly, it was.
I made it through the day, and by the end of it, I was dog tired. My former assistant and now producer, Amanda Collins, called in with sick kids, and I was suddenly glad I didn’t have any. From what she told me, there was quite a bit of spewing going on. I wasn’t down for that. I hated that she wouldn’t be part of preparing for the interview. Amanda was the best at digging up dirt on people, but I had some leads and did most of the work myself. It’s not like I didn’t know how, and I actually enjoyed diving into the details. By four o’clock, I had a top-notch media package prepared. I delivered it to the production department and then went home to eat something.
I loved my apartment. It always smelled like vanilla, thanks to my extensive candle collection, and there was a brilliant view overlooking Atlanta.
I flipped on my satellite radio to a commercial-free instrumental jazz station. Feeling chipper, I flipped through my social media accounts on my phone as I microwaved a frozen dinner. It was some kind of chicken with steamed green beans. As always, it looked better on the box. I checked my voicemail and read my growing pile of snail mail as I picked at the food. We’d have food at the fundraiser, but I rarely ate in public. Not more than a bite or two. Too many eyes watching me. I showered and waited for my doorman to call. My hairdresser and Candace Brody, my publicist, were supposedly on their way here. Candace and I would have to have a conversation soon. I’d just about decided that if Jonah and I couldn’t move this relationship along, I’d have to say goodbye, and for some reason, she felt as if this were her business. I guess technically it kind of was, since she introduced us, but that bothered me. The past year had been tough on our relationship. Candace had her own ideas about the trajectory of my career. She was constantly pushing me to explore “other avenues,” including acting, which I had no intention of doing. I was a reporter, a fact-finder, and if she didn’t back off on a few things, I’d replace her too.
I didn’t waste any of my free time. I flipped through the paperwork, refreshing my memory about tonight’s Starlight Grant recipients. I stared at the faces of the soldiers, the haunted look in their eyes, eyes that couldn’t see their loved ones anymore. Over four hundred men and women applied for these grants, but only ten would receive them. That number was heartbreaking and unacceptable. What was going on in the Middle East that so many came back unable to see? Surely there was a bigger story here. I quietly vowed to investigate this while I leaned back in my padded chair and let the music relax me. I must have closed my eyes for a minute because just a few minutes later, my doorman rang me. I answered his call and waited for my guests to come to my door.
Shoot, I almost forgot. I had to pack my suitcase. Jonah and I were heading out to a cabin in the country for the weekend after my interview. I hadn’t been joking with Jonah earlier. There would be fireworks. Nobody knew what I had, the evidence I’d uncovered. It would scorch the political world. I hadn’t even told my producer. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, I reasoned with myself. Yep, between my boss and David Greeley’s office, I’d need a break.
The cabin belonged to Tenille, who was a former anchor turned successful children’s author. Jonah and I were going up to Harper’s Point to have a heart-to-heart or something. He didn’t seem excited about the idea, but he didn’t say no. How could he not be excited about a weekend away at a cabin by the lake? His tour would start in a few weeks, and we wouldn’t see each other for another month. He’d just have to go. At least Tenille understood that.
“Don’t tell him there’s no wireless up there, Avery. That guy is addicted to social media. Once he’s there, he’ll have no choice but to talk to you.”
“I don’t want to corner him like a rabbit, Tenille. This kind of feels like I’m trapping him.”
“If you have that attitude, then you’ll never catch him. You deserve to know where you stand, Avery, and how is that trapping him? He’s one damn lucky guy.”
“Hardly.”
“Seriously, if he’s who you want, make a move. How come you can be aggressive in an interview but don’t want to seal the deal in your personal life? Get with it, girl.” Tenille had the prettiest, most encouraging smile I’d ever seen. She reminded me a bit of Julia Roberts but with a smaller nose. She had the same gorgeous hair, though. We’d met in college and had been friends ever since. She wasn’t a fan of Jonah Blight, either of his music or of him as a person, but she tolerated him for me. For now. I suspected she’d like to use her newly learned karate chops on him if she could.
“Well, I guess I’ll know something this weekend.”
“Are you prepared for that?”
“I’m ready to take the next step. Whatever that might be.”
“Words to live by, my friend.”
The doorbell rang and roused me. I half hoped it was Jonah coming to allay my fears. What I wouldn’t give to see him show up with a packed bag and a smile. “Couldn’t wait, babe. I’m going to ride up with you. This will be great!” That was never going to happen, but a girl could dream, right? I opened the door to Candace and her entourage.
Candace was “on” from the word go. “Okay, so your hair needs to go shorter. We want the polished, put-together look tonight. Woody, none of those fake extensions, all right? Avery needs to look natural but polished. I have no idea who did Alicia Pennington’s hair, but it looks horrible.”
Woody’s bald head shined as he shook his head. “Polished but natural, got it.” Woody smiled at me and patted my shiny black vanity chair. I plopped in it and listened to Candace as she began to bombard me with numbers. The CV reports, which were just popularity reports, came in today, and apparently, I’d done fairly well. The reports were usually reliable indicators, proving that we were still America’s number-one news show, and I was America’s number-one newscaster. Independent reporting like this gave me an upper hand going into contract negotiations, which were just around the corner. My life was so different now. According to Candace, if News Quarter wanted to keep me, they’d have to pay America’s Sweetheart Newscaster quite a bit more than the current contract. I wasn’t sure how far to push them, but naturally, she had a number in mind.
I half-listened to her, grimacing at “America’s Sweetheart Newscaster.” I hated that title, and she knew it. I was a damn good reporter. The “sweetheart” moniker seemed more appropriate for actresses. No offense to actresses. I was just a humble gal from Belle Fontaine, Alabama. A girl who happened to land an awesome job at the right time with an up-and-coming cable news station. I rode the wave of the station’s popularity, and things had turned out better than I could have imagined. The sky seemed to be the limit, and even the senior reporters were happy to see News Quarter rise in the media world.
My only detractor was Ed Stanwyck, a self-centered anchor with perfect hair and no brains. It chapped his hide that I’d gotten the center desk. At the beginning of my placement, he made a show of being friendly, but that didn’t last long. Now we didn’t speak to one another except during the d
aily co-anchoring. As Woody blasted the blow dryer and Candace paced my bedroom with her cell phone to her ear, I thought about Vertie. She would have been proud; she had been proud. I’d been lucky to have her, and she’d supported me, both financially and emotionally. But she frustrated me. She never wanted to talk about my parents or our hometown except on the rare occasion that she had a glass of wine or two. What would my parents say? Would they be proud? There was no one left to be proud of me. Just Tenille and sometimes Jonah.
Candace continued to talk. I grunted in acknowledgment when she paused in the doorway. She didn’t see tonight as anything more than a photo-op, but I did. I felt like I’d earned something that nobody else ever had, and I needed to give back.
Once Woody was done, Candace joined us in my bathroom, stepping carefully over electrical cords and touching my hair. She hardly noticed Woody’s look of disdain. “That will work. Let’s go over tonight’s activities.”
“Thanks, Woody. I love it,” I said honestly. He hadn’t trimmed my hair, and she hadn’t even noticed. I like this medium length. It suited me.
“About the fundraising, what can we realistically expect? I’m nervous about meeting the goal. I can’t imagine disappointing the foundation.”
Candace smiled secretively. “Oh, you have nothing to worry about. You didn’t think I’d let you head up an ineffective fundraiser, did you? We have pledges enough to make up any difference you might have, and I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about.”
I grinned at her, trying to shake my head. Woody scowled at me, and I asked, “How on earth did you manage that, and what’s it going to cost me?”
“Oh, ye of little faith. It won’t cost you much. Just a few photographs with some of the local leaders. It’s not too high a price.” She checked her watch and pushed her black-rimmed glasses back up on her nose. Candace was an attractive woman, or she had the bones of one. Beyond a little lipstick, she rarely wore makeup. Tonight she wore a black sleeveless turtleneck, a cashmere sweater, and black pants. If her intention was to blend into the background, she’d do that perfectly. I chose a blue silk dress. The hemline came to just above my tanned knees, and it bared one shoulder. I had a sapphire pendant to wear that I kept for special occasions, my graduation gift from Vertie.
“Where’s Jonah? Isn’t he coming here?” she asked, checking her watch again.
“No. He’s meeting me at the event. Something about signing papers at the studio. He’s got a tour starting soon. Lots of paperwork.”
She looked skeptical but didn’t say anything else about him. Fifteen minutes later, we were stepping into the limo and speeding to the fundraiser. I hoped my coworkers showed up. Candace said if they didn’t, she’d make sure they knew about it. Really, I had no doubt everything would go fine. We arrived in a few minutes, right on schedule, but Jonah was running late, of course.
I waited in the limo while Candace got out to check on a few things. I texted Jonah about five times before I gave up. I couldn’t keep these folks waiting. Climbing out with a smile on my face, I greeted the cameras and walked proudly into the venue by myself. I waved politely and accepted the applause of the onlookers as gracefully as possible.
I was seething inside.
Chapter Two
Avery Dufresne
“Thirty minutes, Avery. You need anything?” Amanda poked her head in my doorway. I tapped on my cell phone again before guiltily tossing it down on my desk.
“Nope. You got the graphics cued?”
“It’s me you’re talking to. Of course.”
She went to leave, and I called after her, “Hey!”
“Yeah?”
“How is Junior? Fever gone? He on the mend?”
“Fever is down but not entirely gone.”
“Go home, Amanda. You should be with Tyler, not hanging out here.” I now regretted not filling her in on what I planned to do, but I was trying to protect her from the firestorm that was sure to follow. I doubted she’d see it that way, not at first, but this was a chance I had to take.
“And miss this? Heck no! You’d have to drag me away. Besides, Bradley is with the baby. I think he can handle a couple hours of pretend-Dad time.”
“I am glad to hear that. Hey, come in and close the door.”
She raised her eyebrow as she closed the door behind her. “What’s up? You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”
I waved the idea away. “Never. It’s not that.” I leaned across my desk and rolled the pencil in my hands. Should I tell her about the video? I just couldn’t do it. Amanda wasn’t just my producer. Besides Tenille, she was probably the only real friend I had. This was a “Hail Mary” pass, and I wasn’t going to burn my friend like this. “It’s Jonah,” I lied. I was ticked off about him, but not so much that I’d talk to Amanda about it.
“Oh, yeah, the bastard. What about him?”
“You sound like Tenille now,” I said with a grin.
“You should listen to your friends, Avery. We know a stinker when we smell one.”
“What? I was just wondering if I missed a call from him or something. He was a no-show last night. It’s not like him to forget.”
“Please. Are you serious? Have you not logged onto any social media today?” She poked her red hair behind her ear and chewed her lip nervously. I could tell she knew something she didn’t want to tell me. Well, she’d just have to.
“Nope. You know I don’t ride the computer when I’m working on a big interview. I can’t let that influence me. Haters gonna hate and all that. Why? What did I miss?” I picked up my phone and searched “Jonah Blight” on Twitter. A cascade of photos sprayed across my screen. I stared at the captions:
Wedding must be off.
Blight’s banging Brittany Leigh? What’s Avery say about that?
These weren’t year-old pictures. They were from last night’s Glitter Rock party on Steed Island. He was clearly wasted and clearly unfaithful.
“Oh, my God. That bastard.”
“Yep. I’m sorry you have to see this right now. Listen, if it’s any comfort, Brittany Leigh’s rep says they are just friends. It was probably taken out of context.”
With a glare, I shoved the phone in her face. It displayed a picture of Jonah and Brittany grinding on a table. “How is this out of context?”
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. That’s not me he’s on top of,” she barked back at me. From the dark circles under her eyes, she was probably running on zero sleep. I knew how that felt. I wasn’t sure I’d ever sleep again after this.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to take this out on you. Obviously, I’m just being ridiculous. We weren’t exclusive. I mean, we never said we were. I guess that’s just par for the course. He is a rock star, after all.”
Amanda rolled her eyes. “You must be joking. Avery, I don’t get you at all. Why do you think you need this guy? He’s a twit, a loser. You could have anyone you wanted. Forget him.” Her phone vibrated, and she stared at it. “Okay. Put your game face on. He’s in the building.”
“Jonah?”
“No! David Greeley. He’s coming through security right now. You should probably head to the studio. You got this? Or should I call Sandwich?”
I growled at her and poked her arm playfully as I passed by. “When I’m dead. Ed Stanwyck couldn’t handle this guy.”
She snapped her fingers at me. “Okay then, get your ass in gear, Miss Dufresne.”
I stalked out of the office, compartmentalizing my feelings as best I could. I navigated the various cords and boxes that littered the floor as I scanned my notes. What was I doing? This wasn’t like cramming for a midterm. I eyeballed Philip in the video window, and he gave me a discreet thumbs-up. I hoped this didn’t hurt him—or me.
My stomach twisted, and for a second, I considered running up to the window to tell Phil to forget it. But I didn’t. I wasn’t some simpering wannabe. I was Avery Dufresne, America’s Newscaster. I sipped my coffee and handed the mug to the g
uy standing next to the cameraman, but not without first sloshing its contents on my shirt. At least it wasn’t hot. “Damn. Somebody grab me a detergent stick. Amanda!”
“Coming! Here. Had it in my pocket.” I scrubbed my shirt and passed it back to her. Great. I get to greet Senator David Greeley with a big wet spot on my shirt. Hmm…let’s see if he can keep his eyes on me and not the stain across my chest. This should be interesting. I slid into the barstool chair and faced the camera. Alfie asked me to smile, and I did, just like I did five nights a week.
“You look great.”
The half dozen crew members shuffled around for a few minutes until the senator and his yes-men arrived in the studio. Greeley shook my hand and it felt like ice, kind of like the ice in his eyes. We sat down together at the interview desk as the crew got ready.
“Okay, Senator. The first five minutes of our interview I give to you. I won’t interrupt you, but I may ask a follow-up question or two. We have some video to show, and then we’ll get your thoughts on the video. That’s it. Your opponent declined our interview, so I’ll have to play devil’s advocate a bit. It’s nothing personal, sir. I am sure you know how this all works. You’re no stranger to battling it out on the Senate floor, are you?”
Before he could answer, one of his “assistants” strolled up and began whispering in his ear. I could tell this guy didn’t want Greeley to continue. To his credit, the senator did not back out of the interview. That’s a shame. He’ll probably regret that later.
“Counting now! Ten, nine, eight…” When the cameraman got to four, he stopped counting aloud and used his fingers instead. I smiled at the camera as if it were my best friend.
“Good afternoon, America. I’m Avery Dufresne, and this is News Quarter. Let’s start with breaking news. Linda?”
Linda’s face popped up on the monitor in front of me. She gave her report about the influx of refugees along the southern border of Jordan. Things were dire…things were always dire in the Middle East. “Thanks, Linda. Is there anything else you can tell us about the presence of the U.S. military there tonight?”
The Hauntings Of Sugar Hill: The Complete Series Page 3