by Baird, Ginny
“Are you all right?” Charles asked as she fastened her seat belt.
Ventura glanced back toward the house, her eyes moist. “Yeah, thanks,” she said, stealthily wiping back a tear. “I’m fine.”
Chapter Ten
“Ventura,” Richard told her the next morning in his home office. “I’ve been thinking about last night.”
“You have?”
“About your stories.”
“Oh.”
“I was serious when I urged you to write them down. I have a nose for these things. I think you have potential.”
“But I was trained in news writing. I wouldn’t have a clue how to go about—”
“Come on, if you can speak it, you can write it. You’re a good writer to boot. Professionally trained. All you’ll be doing here is employing a little creative license.”
“And then what?” she asked him. “I don’t even know what the next step would be. Submitting to publishers? From what I hear, the hurdles are enormous.”
“I have some agent friends in New York.” He sincerely met her gaze. “If you’d be willing to write a few of your stories down and polish them, I might see if I can open some doors.”
Her face warmed with gratitude. “That’s so nice. But why would you do that for me?”
“Because I can.” He shuffled through some papers on his desk, then set them aside. “Now, wasn’t there something you wanted to tell me?”
She felt awful dropping the bomb on him at this moment, particularly with him being so kind about her children’s stories. But she needed to go through with it. She’d had a message on her voice mail this morning saying she was wanted for an interview. Things had started moving and might move along even more quickly from here on out.
“I feel terrible about telling you this after you’ve been so nice.”
His face fell. “What is it? What’s happened?”
She gathered her courage and pressed ahead. “I applied for a job at the Daily Globe.”
“And?”
“I’ve been called in for an interview.”
To her surprise, his expression brightened. “That’s fantastic. What great news!”
“Huh?”
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? The whole reason you came to Washington?”
“Um, yeah. But I thought… Wait a minute. You’re not upset that I’m leaving?”
He sat back with a sigh. “You’re not leaving yet, are you? You said you’d just been called for an interview.”
“Yeah, but I kind of have some contacts on the inside.”
He laid his palms on his desk. “Even better.”
Ventura flinched, feeling oddly stung by his enthusiasm. “Is it…? I mean, do you want me to go?”
He met her gaze and held it. “Honey, I’ve never wanted a nanny to stay so much in my life.”
Ventura’s cheeks flamed.
“But I’ve also never wanted any of them to succeed more than I do you. Ventura, this is your life. You have to go for it. I want what you want. Can’t you see?”
She looked deep in his eyes and wished he knew that part of what she wanted was him. And it was too. Her heart skipped a beat as she acknowledged the truth. She couldn’t keep seeing Charles when she was desperately in love with someone else.
Jason bustled into the room, carrying some papers. “Here’s the copy you asked for this morning.”
“Thanks, Jason,” Richard said without taking his eyes off Ventura’s.
Jason looked from one of them to the other, then backed out the door.
“O-kay…” he said, pulling it shut. “I’ll just close this.”
“It’s almost time for me to pick up the kids,” Ventura said.
Richard’s gaze still lingered on hers. “I don’t want you to ever be afraid,” he told her. “Afraid to go after your dreams. You have to stand up for your life. Everyone does.”
“Do you?” she asked with a challenge. “Go for what you want?”
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
She pursed her lips, feeling foolish. What did she expect him to say? I wish you’d stop seeing Charles and go out with me. She hadn’t even begun the story writing in earnest and already her thoughts were spinning off into fantasy. “I apologize,” she said, standing to take her leave. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
The following Saturday, Ventura sat sharing a picnic with Charles at Hanes Point. Airliners glided overhead, taking off from and landing at Reagan International Airport as the waters of the Potomac stretched out ahead.
“This is awesome,” Charles said, studying the view. “Another brilliant idea.”
He took her hand, and Ventura’s heart ached for him, because she knew what was coming. “I feel so awful about having to say this.” She hung her head, and he leaned toward her.
“What’s up?”
“It’s us, Charles,” she said, meeting his eyes. “I just can’t do this.”
“Did I…?” His face was etched with pain. “Was it something I said?”
She sighed heavily. “It’s nothing you’ve done at all. Actually, you’ve been perfect. The most wonderful guy a girl could hope to date.”
“Okay,” he said, like he sensed more was coming.
“But I can’t keep on seeing you when I have such strong feelings for someone else.”
He looked toward the water, then slowly angled back toward her. “Richard?”
Ventura averted her gaze.
“Is it mutual?”
“It doesn’t really matter,” she said, turning back to him. “He’s always in the way.”
Charles stared at her sadly, getting it. “I see.”
Mary entered the basement apartment, carting a big bag of Chinese take-out. “Ventura!” she called in a singsongy tone. “I have good news.”
“That’s great. I could use some right now.”
Mary surveyed her sitting sadly on the sofa, like she’d lost her best friend. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Charles and I broke up.”
Mary set her hefty bag on the coffee table. “Uh-oh. Who ditched who?”
“I wish I could say it was mutual.”
“My poor baby!” Mary cried, wrapping her arms around her.
“I dumped him.”
Mary pushed back. “What?”
Ventura nodded.
“Why?”
“It’s not good to see one man when all you can do is think of someone else.”
“Richard.” Mary shot her a sympathetic gaze. “Listen, Ventura. I know it’s been hard. Unrequited love and all that. From what I hear, it’s a killer. Not that I’d know personally,” she added quickly. “But still, I understand that it’s been painful for you, which is what makes my news extra good.”
“Mary?” Ventura asked, her hopes rising.
“Yes!” Mary squealed. “You got the job!”
They hugged each other and hollered with delight until Nanette called downstairs to ask if they had men over. This was it, a happy sign that Ventura’s life was turning around. She’d been right to break up with Charles. And she’d be right to move on from Richard. She needed to find her own life and forge ahead. But first, she thought, catching a whiff of crispy scallops, she was famished. “What’s in the bag?”
Mary reached in the sack and dug out two fistfuls of crescents. “Extra fortune cookies,” she said with a grin.
Ventura looked up at Richard as they stood in the kitchen. She’d just fixed the kids an early supper and was preparing to leave. Richard was dressed in his tuxedo, ready for another society outing. “I can’t believe you understand.”
“What I understand is that in this town, opportunity only knocks once. You’ve got to answer, Ventura. Go for it.”
Ventura lowered her voice so the kids couldn’t hear. “But what about Ricky and Elisa?”
“We’ll manage somehow, just like we did before.” He studied her a beat. “Look, if you’re having doubts about taking th
is job, why not give it a trial run? You know, for a couple of weeks. If it turns out you’re miserable there, you can come back here.”
“Are you serious? You’d hold a spot open for me?”
“What are friends for?
“Oh, Richard!” she said springing into his arms. “You’re the best!”
He held her to him and patted her back while Elisa and Ricky sent curious gazes in their direction. “Yeah, you too.”
“Are you two getting married?” Elisa asked.
Ventura felt her cheeks blaze as she broke from Richard’s embrace.
“That was just in friendship,” she said, blinking at the kids.
Richard straightened his bow tie. “Absolutely.”
Ricky and Elisa exchanged glances.
Ventura stared at Richard, and he stared back.
“I’m not worried if you’re not,” he said quickly.
Chapter Eleven
It was late at night when Ventura rapped at Nanette’s bedroom door.
“It’s open! Come in!”
Nanette’s suitcase lay open on the bed. She was going away on some kind of romantic adventure with a man who worked for the government.
“Are you sure you’ll be safe traveling with Kevin?” Ventura asked. “You really don’t know that much about him.”
“That’s because he can’t say.”
“You don’t think it’s a little odd that he always wears those dark glasses?”
“Trust me on this,” she said with a wink. “He doesn’t always wear them.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re having fun,” Ventura said. “Wherever you’re going.”
“To a resort, if you must know. If I told you which one, you’d be embarrassed.”
“Oh,” Ventura said with a blush. “Well, I brought you something for your trip. Something for good luck.”
Nanette stared down at the package in Ventura’s hand. “Oh, how sweet! You didn’t have to.”
“I know,” Ventura said. “But you’ve been so good to me and Mary both. It’s just a little something.”
Nanette grinned and eagerly tore into the wrapping. “Chocolate fortune cookies.” She giggled with delight. “Where on earth did you get these?”
“I have my sources.”
“Thank you, dear.” Nanette gave her a warm hug. “So, tell me, how are things going with Charles?”
“We broke up.”
Nanette looked at her with surprise. “I don’t understand. I thought everything was going so well.”
Ventura sat on Nanette’s bed with a sigh.
Nanette considered her a moment. “This is about that editor, isn’t it? Richard Blake.”
“Oh, Nanette, I’m not even sure if he feels the same.”
“Have you thought about talking to him? Telling him the truth?”
“I couldn’t! Not after all he’s done for me. He’s been so kind, given me so many chances. He’s even gone so far as to support my writing. I don’t think I told you, he sent a manuscript of mine to a couple of his agent friends in New York.”
Nanette eyed her doubtfully. “You mean to say there’s never been any chemistry between you?”
Ventura felt her face burn hot but held her tongue.
“I see. Well, you know what they say…” She paused a moment to toss some skimpy lingerie in her bag. “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.” She met Ventura’s eyes. “How do you know he’s not thinking the same thing? She’s such a nice young woman. She’s done so much for my family. How could I possibly take advantage of her?”
“But he wouldn’t be taking advantage!” Ventura blurted out. “I’d want him to.”
“Ah-ha!
Ventura hung her head. “What am I going to do?”
“Tell him when the moment is right.”
“But what about my new job? And Mary? Her relationship with Jason? I wouldn’t want to impact that in a bad way if things were to sour between Richard and me. Maybe I should forget all about him.” She sighed heavily. “I can’t imagine how this will work out.”
Nanette sat on the bed beside her. “Things have a way of resolving themselves,” she said kindly. “You’ll see. You go on with your life. Follow your heart. Do what you’re meant to do. Your destiny will catch up with you.”
Ventura followed Mary with trepidation through the bustling newsroom where noise assaulted her senses. Fingers furiously tapped at keyboards, phones rang nonstop, and editors barked out orders. Ventura clutched Mary’s arm as they passed by rows of disheveled reporters sitting with mugs of coffee at their computers.
Mary angled her chin toward Ventura. “Stop acting like you’re in a slasher film,” she hissed. “This is your dream job, remember?”
She showed Ventura to a dingy cubicle at the far recesses of the room, near the coffee-making station. “You stay here. I’ll bring you something to do.”
A few moments later, Mary returned and dumped some coffee packets on Ventura’s desk.
“What’s this?” she asked, looking up.
Mary set her hand on her hip. “Your first assignment.”
Jason and the kids walked through the front gate, holding ice-cream cones. Richard looked up from his front steps, where he sat reading the newspaper.
“You know, Mary’s doing a decent job with her fashion column,” he said. “Not that I understand a word of it.”
Jason took a bite of ice cream. “That’s because you don’t speak our language.”
“What’s that?” Richard teased. “The language of love?”
The kids plunked down on the front steps, licking their cones.
“How’s the chocolate peanut butter?” Richard asked them.
Both kids frowned. “Nothing’s the same without Ventura,” Elisa said.
Ricky shook his head in agreement, and Jason glanced at Richard. “I’ll bet Papa Bear knows just what you mean.”
“Shut up,” Richard said under his breath. He never should have told Jason about that dream he’d had. At the time, it had seemed harmless and funny. But Jason hadn’t let him hear the end of it. After he’d found Ventura passed out on the sofa with those storybooks, Richard had later thumbed through them. For some reason that had led to a pretty wild dream that night. He’d been the Papa Bear, and Ventura—dressed as Goldilocks—had landed in his bed.
Jason whispered in Richard’s ear, “And I thought women were the ones who had romantic fantasies.”
Richard elbowed him. Hard.
“Ouch!”
“What happened, Uncle Jason?” Elisa asked.
“Just got an, uh…” He glanced at Richard. “Stitch in my side.”
Jason laughed, muttering under his breath, “Man, that was pervy.”
Richard snatched away his ice cream. “Hey!”
“You’d better not breathe a word of that to Mary,” Richard said, knowing Mary would immediately share it with Ventura.
“I swear on my life!”
He grabbed for his cone, but Richard held it out of reach.
“Swear on your Gucci loafers.”
“Aw, man, that’s not fair.”
Richard held the cone higher.
“Okay, okay. I swear.”
“Ventura!” Mary cried with dismay. “What are you doing?”
Ventura lethargically opened one eye. “Resting.”
“Well, you don’t rest here, okay? Wake up!”
Ventura groggily lifted her head to see she was still in the newsroom. So it hadn’t been a dream. The nightmare was real. For three weeks, she’d done nothing but mess up. The few meager copy editing assignments she’d scored had been a major botch, and she couldn’t even seem to make coffee.
“Hey!” an angry voice snarled. “What idiot keeps burning the joe?”
Ventura buried her head with her arms, her cheek pressed to her metal desk. It couldn’t really stay this bad forever. Could it?
Mary leaned toward her with a whisper. “You’ve got to find a way to snap out of it, girlfrie
nd, or I’ll be forced to hire your replacement.”
Ventura slowly sat up. “But all I do is type and file, and type and file, and…”
“I told you, you’d have to start from the ground up.”
Ventura’s head dropped back on her desk with a thud as she centered her gaze on the coffeepot. “You mean grounds, don’t you?”
Ventura dragged herself toward Nanette’s townhouse, practically in tears. Nothing about this new job was going as planned. She’d expected it to be hard but had no idea it would prove so humiliating. She was an intelligent woman with a good education, and yet she felt like the lowest of the low in that newsroom. Perhaps it was because she was the lowest person on the totem pole, not to mention the newest employee.
She was just approaching the front steps when she spotted Richard’s sports car parked at the curb. Richard? What on earth is he doing here? Suddenly invigorated, she raced up the stairs and through the front door.
She entered the townhouse to find Richard chatting in the living room with Nanette, who’d just returned from the islands.
“Richard!” Ventura said with a happy smile. “It’s so great to see you.” Unable to stop herself, she sprang into his arms.
He laughed warmly, hugging her back. “You too, Ventura. You look…” He gave her an appraising frown. “Tired.”
“She is tired,” Nanette assured him. “Exhausted from that horrible new job of hers.”
“Nanette,” Ventura warned. “It’s not that bad.”
“But you said—”
“What brings you to Capitol Hill?” Ventura asked, turning her attention on Richard.
“I brought you a special delivery,” he said with a warm smile.
He handed her an express mail envelope, and she checked the sender, seeing it was from New York.
“Open it,” Richard said.
She tore into the package and scanned through its document, unable to believe her eyes. “Is this what I think?”
He shot her a proud grin. “It’s a representation agreement, from one of the best agencies in children’s literature.”