by JoAnn Durgin
Alex smiled as he took it from her. “I’m hoping it’ll wash down that disgusting fried Brussels sprout. I can’t believe you talked me into trying one. No matter what anyone says, deep frying something doesn’t necessarily make it palatable. My mother would love you for trying, though.”
After taking a quick drink, Alex thanked her and handed the milkshake back across the table. When their fingers touched, Nicole felt a rush of adrenaline. This did feel like a date, better than any “real” date she’d ever had.
“You’re welcome, Professor Higgins.”
Holding up one hand, he smirked. “You’re only allowed to call me that if you speak with a Cockney accent and answer to the name Eliza Doolittle. Where’d you hear that anyway?”
“Actually, I didn’t. Colin did a search on his phone before you and I talked last night at the party. He told me about the image-maker nickname.”
“My official title is Vice President, but the network has like a hundred of them. Truthfully, I’m more or less a glorified human resources specialist, although I’m sometimes called upon to spruce up someone’s image. Tell them how to walk, how to dress, that sort of thing. I don’t enjoy that part of the job, to be honest. That’s not why I’m here with you, Nicole. You’ve got that part down and need no help from anyone.”
She’d assumed most network honchos would be rather stuffy, much older, and lack the humor gene. Alex might be the new breed of network executive, but she wondered if he ever butted heads with the old school executives in trying to persuade them to adopt newer methodologies. From what she knew, trying to do so might prove to be a fruitless, uphill climb.
“Who’s the guy in the mural on the wall? If he’s a zombie, he looks pretty good compared to the ones over there.” Alex angled his head toward a mural of a street scene filled with undead characters.
Nicole followed his gaze and smiled. “That’s George Formano. He’s a well-known chef and restaurateur here in Des Moines. He founded some of the city’s most popular eateries. Zombie Burger combines two of his passions—horror movies and hamburgers.”
“Well, this place is a lot of fun,” Alex said. “Thanks for bringing me here. Great idea. What do you say we play the getting to know you game? Sixty seconds or less. Learn as much as you can about the other person.”
“Sounds interesting.” Nicole returned his infectious grin. “I’m game.”
“The rule is that anything goes. Unless you’re not comfortable with that.” He raised a brow as though offering a challenge.
She wrinkled her nose in mock disdain. “Speak for yourself. I have nothing to hide. No skeletons or hidden closets for this girl. You might as well go first to show me how it’s done.”
Alex wiped his hands on his napkin. “Ready?” He waited until she nodded before setting the timer on his watch. “Here we go.” Rapping his fist on the table, he signaled he was starting. “Brothers or sisters?”
“Only child.”
“Favorite color, food and country?”
“Purple, anything Italian, and Switzerland although I’ve never been there.”
Nicole surprised herself by not having to think more than a second or two about her answers. She fired back almost as fast as Alex tossed out the questions. Favorite musical style? Jazz and contemporary Christian. She’d only had one pet her entire life—a purebred Sheltie named Polo. English was her favorite subject in school, math her worst. Gregory Peck was her favorite actor in To Kill a Mockingbird, although she adored him in Roman Holiday with Audrey Hepburn. Agatha Christie mysteries were a favorite. First kiss? A disastrous locking of braces with Tim Marks in sixth grade. The whole subject of kissing, or not kissing—as in Jake Marston’s “I’m not kissing a woman until I know I’m going to marry her”—had more or less been the bane of her existence, but no way would she reveal that humiliation to Alex.
“Most embarrassing moment? Make it the earliest one you can remember,” he added.
She laughed. “The implication I’ve had several such moments is duly noted.” Still, that question gave her pause. “Ironically enough, giving my first oral report in third grade ranks right up there. I stared at the back wall and spouted out this memorized speech about Egyptian hieroglyphics. Apparently, I chattered so fast no one understood a word I’d said.”
“Most emotional moment?”
“Knowing my dad wasn’t coming home to live with us again, and there was nothing I could do about it.”
Alex’s sympathetic gaze caused something inside her to shift.
“I think that’s enough for now.” His voice was quiet.
She raised her chin. “Keep going.”
He asked her a few more questions but kept them general. She knew he’d backed off to spare her feelings. The alarm on his watch sounded, and Alex sat back in his chair. “See what I mean? I know a whole lot more about you than I did only a minute ago. Ready to return the favor?”
“Sure am.”
“Then, bring it on.”
By the time she finished, Nicole had learned Alex was the middle child of three sons, born and raised outside Minneapolis, all grandparents still living, older brother divorced, favorite color was red, favorite food also anything Italian, favorite country Germany, he’d had a succession of big, shaggy mutts, loved history and hated biology. His favorite actor was Humphrey Bogart in The Maltese Falcon and Casablanca, and he devoured thrillers.
“That exercise was fun but exhausting.” Turning her head, Nicole nodded at the view outside the tall window beside their table. “It’s a great view of the city from here and especially of the historic buildings, don’t you think?”
“That, too.” Alex plopped a house-cut fry drenched in ketchup into his mouth. Again, she wondered if he was flirting. Hard to tell, but his gaze wasn’t trained on anything outside the window. “In a strictly visual sense, I think any city looks better at night and especially during the holiday season.”
“You’re right,” Nicole said after taking a quick sip of the milkshake. “Guess I hadn’t thought of it that way. I imagine you’ve seen a lot of cities in your travels.”
“Yes, and more hotel rooms than my townhouse. There’s definitely something to be said for staying home. How about you? Travel much?”
“A bit. For the show,” she said, finishing the last of her burger, worth every indulgent calorie. “Primarily here in Iowa. I’ve met a lot of interesting people, and that’s what I enjoy most. When I was growing up, a trip to the mall was a big thrill, and I loved traveling with a singing group when I was in college. I would have loved to study a semester abroad, but the money wasn’t there.” She wiped her mouth again and offered him a smile. “I’ve always wanted to see the Swiss Alps. I took a skiing trip to Colorado last year. The Rockies were magnificent, but I realized God made those mountains the same as He made the Alps. They’re both equally awesome.” She shrugged. “It’s just geography.”
“True, and I love hearing your perspective. You know, I’m really glad I went to the mission tonight, Nicole.” Alex’s smile dimmed. “It highlighted some deficiencies in my life.”
“Like what? Lack of cultivars or brassicas?” She plucked the last fried Brussels sprout from the plate then popped it whole into her mouth. “Sorry,” she said a moment later. “Don’t mind me. I apparently felt the need to show off. Go on. Please.”
He quirked a brow. “Are you always this silly?”
“Apparently. Comes from hanging around a sarcastic British man the majority of my waking hours.” Nicole pointed to the empty appetizer plate. “Don’t know what you’re missing, my friend. Brussels sprouts—deep fried or not—are a great source of vitamin A, C, folic acid, and fiber. Protects against colon cancer.”
“I’ll find another way, thanks.”
She waved one hand. “Didn’t mean to interrupt. Tell me more about your deficiencies.” She grinned when she caught his skeptical look. “Perceived deficiencies.”
Pushing aside his empty basket, Alex crossed his arms on the table. “Tell yo
u one thing. Use words like cultivar and brassica on air, and you’ve lost more than seventy percent of your audience. They’ll either be reaching for their dictionary, or they’ll tune you out.”
Nicole swallowed hard and lowered her gaze. With that statement, Alex reminded her of the purpose of his visit. He wasn’t here to charm her, date her, or even to like her. He was here for work. Disappointment she didn’t welcome invaded her senses. “I’ll keep that in mind. I try not to—”
“I know you don’t,” he said quickly, as if to reassure her. What she found somewhat unsettling was how he seemed to understand her enough to anticipate what she was going to say before the words escaped her mouth. How was that possible?
“As I said last night, your audience loves you because you’re real and down-to-earth. If you move to a bigger market, don’t change who you are, Nicole. Don’t start spouting fancy words to try to sound more sophisticated. People in bigger cities aren’t all that different from those in Des Moines. It’s enough to know those words, but I hope you don’t feel you have to impress me for some reason.”
“You’re here to evaluate my performance, are you not?” In spite of his compliment, Nicole didn’t like this new direction of their conversation and much preferred the teasing, fun Alex. They’d enjoyed their time at the mission and during the meal, and she didn’t wish to spoil the mood by dousing it with a cold, hard dose of reality.
Sitting back in his chair, Alex smiled, relieving her apprehensions. “You’ve used those same three words—‘evaluate my performance’—at least four times in the past twenty-four hours. Please do us both a favor and erase that phrase from your vocabulary.”
Confusion swirled in her mind. Maybe she was being dim-witted, but what did he mean? “Perhaps you should put it in more simple terms.”
“You’ve already proven you’re professionally capable, but to be successful on the bigger stage, it takes more than the ability to engage your co-host in lively banter and your guests in a spirited debate.” Alex met her gaze and lowered his voice. “It takes more than being a good person at heart. More than the ability to save a troublesome interview.”
Likewise, those comments hit home. Nicole remained silent, waiting with a sense of dread for what might come next. She’d always hated employee reviews, and this conversation increasingly felt like one.
“I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. What I need you to understand is that it takes a firm backbone to withstand the arrows that will inevitably be slung your way. It takes a strong drive, a determined will, and a singular focus. It’s all about knowing what you want and having a plan to get there. Remember, I’m here to help you do that.”
When she lifted her gaze to Alex’s, Nicole glimpsed the compassion sometimes hidden beneath his serious business demeanor. Never abrasive but tough.
She concentrated on keeping her voice steady and calm. “I have a plan. Maybe it’s not written in stone, and it doesn’t contain hard numbers, facts, and figures. It’s not like I started out in this business determined to get from Station A to Station P in a specific amount of time with a mapped-out schedule, but it’s a plan nonetheless.”
He nodded. “Care to share it with me?”
Somehow, she suspected that would be his next question. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Nicole attempted to disguise her misgivings. The man’s radar seemed set on a constant high frequency. He’d already proven uncanny in his ability to read her, but she was thankful he couldn’t see how fast she was tapping her foot beneath the table.
“Last night, you asked about my goals,” she said. “Sure, in time, I’d like to be more of a household name and on a national show. The way I see it, there’s no valid reason that show can’t originate right here in Des Moines instead of Chicago, Houston, L.A., or anywhere else. That is, as long as big city viewers don’t mind a small-town Iowa girl with a big heart who doesn’t put on sophisticated airs. Maybe they’ll find it quaint and charming.” Shaking her head, she blew out a breath. Her sarcasm probably wasn’t helping matters. “I’m probably talking myself right out of a larger market here. You might as well write your report and call it a day.”
Alex chuckled. “Not at all. Bottom line, are you saying you don’t want to leave Des Moines?”
“I’m suggesting the network might consider the idea of syndicating a homegrown show like ours.” Where had that thought come from? “As proven by the success of other television shows, if the people are interesting and entertaining enough, they can be a ratings success, no matter where they live.”
Chewing the inside of her cheek, Nicole figured that might have been the most ridiculous stream of drivel she’d ever uttered. If nothing else, it was heartfelt. Not bad for off-the-cuff. This was one of those times when quick thinking served her well. At least Alex hadn’t burst out laughing.
Alex nodded. “You might be onto something. It’s certainly worth a mention to the network executives and perhaps warrants further discussion, depending on the response.”
That he’d even consider such an idea thrilled her. “Every now and then I come up with something inspired. Maybe it’s like the old saying about how you can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl.” Lifting her shoulders, she gave him a sheepish smile. “Something like that.”
“No matter where your life takes you, I know you’ll be just fine, Nicole. More than fine, but I have to ask. Does this have something to do with Colin?” When she didn’t answer, Alex continued. “While I admire your loyalty, I think—professionally speaking—Colin’s found his niche right here on Wake Up, Des Moines!” His gaze bore into her. “Where’s Nicole Reardon’s niche? That’s the question.”
She sighed. Yes, that was, indeed, the question.
11
Thursday Morning
Nicole glimpsed the startled look on Alex’s face after hearing Mike call for him to sit in Colin’s empty chair. Her spirits sank. Oh, no. What had she done? She was the cause of Alex’s predicament. He just didn’t know it yet. She’d soon find out if the man possessed a forgiving nature.
Less than an hour ago, Mike had stomped into her office, hands on hips, and announced Colin had called in sick, claiming to be suffering from the “ill effects” of some type of flu. In a year of working as his co-host, she’d rarely heard him so much as sneeze or cough much less call in sick. She’d need to call him later.
While Mike readily acknowledged Nicole could handle the show on her own, they both knew it’d be preferable to find someone to fill Colin’s chair. Although it wasn’t necessary to be a male co-host, audiences generally responded more favorably to a man and woman team. Preferably, it’d be a guy who could dish it out as good as he got—Mike’s phrasing.
They’d tossed around a few possibilities, with Mike settling on Edwin, a junior producer. Nice man, but boring as drywall. When Mike had suggested Damon, one of the camera guys—a handsome guy in his mid-twenties—she’d demurred. Damon was painfully shy. The man could barely carry on a conversation with any woman without blushing ten shades of red, so he’d probably clam up on camera. That brought Alex’s comment into her mind—the one likening Rose Valentine to a mime. Alex. Call it gut instinct, but Nicole knew he was the best candidate they’d find at such short notice. With a faint stab of misgiving, she’d barely uttered his name when Mike grabbed hold of the idea like a man jumping into a lifeboat to escape a sinking ship.
“Alex!” Mike gestured to Colin’s chair. “Get him wired and in the chair, people. We go live in three.”
“What’s he talking about?” Alex mouthed to her, his eyes wide and pleading as he jabbed his thumb against his chest. “Me?”
If the situation wasn’t so serious, she might be amused. Poor guy. She hoped he wouldn’t want to throttle her after the show. Apparently, Mike must have assumed she would have already informed Alex he was going to be her co-host this morning.
After beckoning to him, Nicole patted the cushion on Colin’s chair.
> A few seconds later, Alex slid into the chair beside her. He wore nice dress khakis with a deep green sweater. She loved it when a man wore a sweater, and the color accentuated Alex’s eyes to great advantage. Gorgeous.
Nicole tried to ignore how much she liked his dark hair slightly mussed. Wondered what he’d look like with sleepy eyes and a bit of stubble on that strong, masculine chin. The collar of his white shirt sported pencil-thin red stripes, making it somewhat resemble a candy cane. The wardrobe supervisor couldn’t have chosen anything more perfect for him.
“This is a horrible idea. Dumbest thing I’ve ever done, without a doubt.”
Nicole laughed. “Relax. You’ll be perfectly fine.”
“I hope you’re right.” Alex fell silent as the technicians hooked up his microphone and gave him brief instructions. “I doubt I’ll remember any of that,” he mumbled under his breath, probably more to himself than to her.
“Paste a smile on your face and get ready to say, Wake Up, Des Moines!”
He smirked. “Don’t you mean look out, Des Moines!”
“Keep that sense of humor, and you’ll be fine. If you want, I’ll handle the interviews and you can sit there and look pretty. Feel free to ask a question every now and then. Whatever suits your comfort level.”
He visibly tensed. “I resent that sexist remark, but we’re almost out of time. My concern of the moment is that I’m nowhere near as amusing as Colin.” He twisted his hands together and chewed his lower lip.
“Don’t even try, or you’ll fail. Be yourself. Alex Kingsfield’s charming enough on his own. We don’t have a live audience this morning, so that makes it a little easier.” She darted a look his way and caught his apparent surprise, probably by her compliment. “For the record, you’re also plenty amusing, whether you intend to be or not.”
She noted how his Adam’s apple slid up and down in his throat. His eyes were wide, accentuating their rich hue. “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or scared out of my mind.”