ALASKAN FIRE
By
Christina Carlisle
© copyright September 2005, Christina Carlisle
Cover art by Kat Richards, © copyright September 2005
ISBN 1-58608-645-6
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
CHAPTER ONE
“Tin pot television!” he growled.
“That’s unfair.” Jess spoke firmly, but her body language denied confidence as she shifted in her chair. “I have all-round experience in news and current affairs.”
“My dear girl, you’re a babe in arms. I need an experienced journalist, not some junior reporter from a hick country TV station,” his eyes narrowed as he watched her.
Jess almost crushed the file she was holding in an effort to control her temper. “You’re mistaken, Mr. Armstrong,” she said hotly. “Your partner, Mr. Powell, chose to employ me on my merits as an A-Grade journalist.”
“I am the senior partner and my decision overrides John’s.”
Sam Armstrong levered himself from his chair and coming around to the front of the desk, leaned toward Jess. His fingers closed around her delicate jaw lifting her face to his. Jess held her breath as she stared at his sensually shaped mouth, inches from hers. “Your merits, Jessica, are those big baby blue eyes and that great bone structure,” he murmured, studying her features.
Stepping back, he deliberately assessed the soft curves of her breasts and her slender stockinged thighs displayed to perfection by her short pencil-slim skirt.
Jess stood up, her cheeks burning with indignation. “You are insulting.”
Sam didn’t seem to hear her. He leaned against the desk folding his arms across his chest.
“Do you know what my partner would have thought, Jessica?” he continued conversationally. “Now, here is a raw recruit who needs lots of work but...the camera will love her.” Before Jess could move, Sam reached over and ran a cool finger down one flushed cheek. His voice took on a husky tone. “And he was right. The camera will love you.”
Jess was mesmerized by his eyes, which held hers, daring her to look away. Suddenly Sam broke the spell. “But, I don’t have time to train people in the business,” he said brusquely. “I expect them to know what it’s about and with your background you can’t possibly have the experience for this job.” Sam turned away but Jess grabbed his arm.
“Just what do you mean by that?”
“It means, I’m sorry but I have no place in my show for you,” he said evenly, his eyes on her fingers clutching at his sleeve.
“You can’t fire me like this. You haven’t read my resume or looked at my video clips.” Jess controlled her rising panic.
“I know all I need to know.”
“Please, Mr. Armstrong. I ask you to reconsider.” Jess spoke quietly to hold back her emotions. Thoughts pushed emotional barriers as she struggled to understand. How could Sam Armstrong do this? After working toward this chance for eight years, she had resigned her job, found a flat in Sydney, and left family, friends… and Tom. How could he do this?
There was silence except for the sound of Jess’ distressed breathing. Sam turned and stared out of the window at the busy city street below. Jeez! I’m handling this badly, he thought. I’m ripping into this poor girl because I’m tired and irritable. He watched a young child skipping along the pavement laughing up at her mother, oblivious to any worries. For a moment, his mind slid back to the filth and squalor of the children’s hospital where he had been filming two days before in the Middle East. Could he ever forget the terror in the eyes of the children with seemingly no hope for the future? And here I am in my own way destroying all the hopes and dreams of a budding television reporter. Well done, Sam. You’re doing a great job!
Jess looked down at her shaking hands. Tears pricked the back of her eyelids and she angrily blinked them away. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, placing her file down on the desk.
“Oh no, Mr. Armstrong. You don’t get away with this so easily,” she said holding a letter toward him. She was again in control. Sam turned a look of surprise on his face as he surveyed her flushed skin, her eyes dark and vibrant with anger, her mouth pursed with emotion.
“This is my letter of appointment on company letterhead signed by John Powell, Director. If you don’t honor this, I will consider taking the matter further and I will also consider suing you for...for sexual harassment!” Jess sat down abruptly, her legs unable to hold her any longer.
Sam raised quizzical eyebrows. “Sexual harassment? How does that come into it?” he asked, sitting at his chair again and skimming his eyes over her letter.
“You touched me just now.”
“I touched your cheek. Hardly sexual harassment.”
“It wasn’t where you touched me, it was...”Jess hesitated.
“Well, come on--it was what?” Sam threw the letter on the desk.
Lifting her chin, Jess met his enigmatic stare. “It was how you touched me and the way you looked at me … the way you spoke,” she said, refusing to look away from his cool, green eyes.
“I said the camera would love you. You are a beautiful girl. I am an artist and it is my job to see images through the eye of a camera. If you don’t know that people like to look at pretty things then you have more to learn than I ever imagined.”
“I don’t know what you meant by it but I do know that this job is morally mine. I am a very good journalist and I deserve a chance. If you fire me, I will kick up such a fuss that you will wish you had never heard my name.” Jess gulped, praying the tears welling in her eyes wouldn’t fall.
Sam studied her, a strange light in his eyes. “You are a lot tougher than you look, aren’t you, Jessica Seymour,” he said softly. “However, I don’t like being threatened.”
“Neither do I,” Jess retorted sharply.
Sam leaned back in his chair swinging it gently from side to side. He fiddled with a paper clip, pulling it undone and breaking it into tiny pieces. Then he got up and walked around behind Jess. She had nerve he’d certainly give her that. He liked the way she stood up to him particularly when he was being such a pain--and he knew it! Perhaps it was worth giving her a go. God knows they needed another journalist on board. Sam wondered if Jess would cope when the going became really tough. He rubbed his jaw, uncertain of what to do for almost the first time in his life.
Jess could feel his eyes studying and analyzing. She sat quite still. She was outwardly calm and looking ahead, her eyes tracing the outline of the Sydney skyscrapers. She could see the shell-shaped outline of the Opera House and behind it, the bridge reaching majestically across the harbor. Inside her mind was in turmoil as her world crashed around her. The last thing she expected was this reaction. She swallowed hard as Sam Armstrong once again reached for her file.
The minutes ticked slowly as Sam read her portfolio, pausing when he came to the photograph attached to her resume. He stared at it for what seemed an eternity. Jess, in turn, studied his bent head noting the shock of black hair with unruly strands falling over his forehead. His nose was classically straight and his eyes, now downcast, were fringed with amazingly long, dark lashes. His naturally olive skin had a golden sheen showing the weeks of working in the open air. Jess felt an odd tingling in the pit of her stomach. Goodness! He was even more attractive in real life than on television, she thought.
Sam abruptly closed the file and handed it to Jess. She blushed as their gazes locked and wondered if her thoughts showed on
her face.
“You had better attend the production meeting at ten in half an hour,” he said glancing at his watch as he got up from his chair.
Jess also rose wondering if this strange interview had come to an end. “Does this mean I can keep my job?”
“Yes. But let’s get something straight from the start, Jessica. I am tough to work for.”
“I’m aware of your reputation.”
“Then you will know I expect the best and I get it.”
“I have trained to be the best.”
“Attitude is also important. I am not interested in journalists who run to the union because they think I’ve done the wrong thing by them.”
“I’ve never complained to a union.”
“Good. Well, you will see the people who work for me don’t need to bleat about anything because I treat them extremely well. As for sexual harassment--no one has ever accused me of that before.”
Jess’ head shot up as he ground out the words and she stepped back a pace.
“Remember, you will be groomed as an on-air presenter of the top current affairs and human-interest program in the country. You will be prodded, pushed and pulled by a team of publicists, photographers and wardrobe people. There’s no room for prudish behavior. When you’re on the road you could be sleeping rough surrounded by an all-male film crew. There will be times when you are exhausted, hungry, hot, dirty and wishing you were anywhere else than working for World Watch. Do you understand? Do you still want the job?” His face was intent as he watched her and his potent energy reached out, touching and surrounding her.
“Yes, I do,” she said crisply.
Sam shrugged. “Okay. I’ll see you at ten. By the way Jessica, everyone around here calls me Sam,” he said as an apparent after-thought as she opened the door.
Jess turned, her sapphire eyes still sparkling with anger and indignation. “Thank you, Mr. Armstrong,” she said closing the door firmly behind her.
CHAPTER TWO
Jess returned to the news room with her head held high. She was damned if she was going to let Sam Armstrong affect her and she certainly wasn’t going to let the others see how he had disturbed her.
“Everything all right?” Molly asked as she sat down. Avid curiosity was written across Molly’s features, as well as a good number of the staff in the huge news room, Jess noted. She nonchalantly returned their stares.
“Yes, thanks, fine,” she replied, with a bright smile. “But you had better watch out, I’m about to be made a star any day now,” she joked.
“Oh, I don’t doubt it, Jess. With the way you look you can’t miss,” Molly said in all seriousness.
Jess felt a bubble of anger rising in her. It was becoming clearer by the moment that she was thought of as an empty-headed bimbo hired for her ‘pretty face.’ Her credibility as a journalist of proven integrity obviously didn’t count for much.
“I thought you looked a bit shaky,” Molly continued. “Don’t mind Sam. He was in a bad mood when he came in. He arrived last night from four weeks overseas and is probably jet-lagged.” Molly popped a piece of cake into her mouth as she spoke and took a slurp of coffee.
Jess studied Molly’s animated face. Molly Reynolds was one of the program’s researchers and had been assigned to show Jess the ropes in the first week of her new job. She had been kind and protective and Jess appreciated her natural friendliness.
“Does he suffer from bad moods very often?”
Molly laughed. “No. Not really. Sure, he is blunt and doesn’t suffer fools gladly but he treats everyone as an equal and we all think he’s fantastic, especially the women. Don’t you think he is a dish?” Molly smirked as she turned to look at Jess.
“Well, I really don’t know.” Jess felt inexplicably flustered at Molly’s bluntness. “He is certainly an outstanding director,” she conceded.
“Of course, he is wasted behind the camera,” Molly continued, warming to the task. “A man with his looks should be in front of the camera so our female viewers can drool over him, then our ratings would be even higher, if possible,” Molly concluded, emphatically.
Jess nodded agreement, thinking of the times she had seen Sam Armstrong as a top investigative journalist presenting stories from different parts of the world. From dangerous war zones to extraordinarily wild and exotic places, his classically handsome face had seemed to fill the screen with a hypnotizing presence. And now Jess had seen him in the flesh, heard his deep, clipped voice and felt the effect of his strange green eyes.
She glanced at her watch. It was almost ten o’clock now. She hastily made her way to the ladies room to freshen up. Touching her lips with a pink gloss, she stood back to look critically at herself in the mirror. The new royal blue suit showed to full advantage the color of her eyes. The jacket hugged her curving breasts and fitted snugly into her small waist. High-heeled shoes added stature to her normal five foot five inches giving her much needed confidence. Splurging a lot of her hard-earned savings on a number of smart outfits, coupled with the cost of the flat, didn’t leave much in the bank. She just had to keep this job.
Jess sighed as she sprayed perfume on her wrists.” Well, I don’t care what they think. I am going to prove I am damned good at my work and intend to be the best TV journalist in Australia, so there!” she said aloud, giving her reflection a stern nod.
* * * *
The boardroom was full of staff when she entered but she managed to place herself well away from the head of the large table, between two male journalists on the team. With her heart pounding with excitement Jess looked around at the faces of the talented people she was to work with--the most professional team in television.
Jess had made sure she knew in advance how the production team worked. She was aware there were four film crews operating with five journalists, including her. Each crew had directors, assistants, camera, lighting and sound guys, scriptwriters, researchers, editors and administrative staff. Graphics and set designers plus make-up, wardrobe and publicity people backed up the program.
This was the regular weekly production meeting of directors and journalists to have future stories assigned, discuss problems and to make sure each Sunday night program was on track. Jess searched the faces of this group responsible for a program that was an innovative mixture of hard news, reports on advancements in medicine and technology and lighter human-interest stories. The program was renowned for its documentary style on world issues with magnificently filmed segments capturing extraordinary images. These were the stories for which Sam had gained an enviable reputation for directing and often personally filming.
Her eyes widened with astonishment when Sam strolled in. His compelling face was alight with good humor as he stopped to shake hands with various staff members obviously not having seen some of them for several weeks. His smile was devastatingly attractive and Jess caught herself gaping at him. She quickly glanced down at her notebook. What a charmer! What a different man to the one who had interviewed her so aggressively only thirty minutes ago.
She watched as Sam sat at the head of the table noting his partner, John Powell, wasn’t present but rather Bill Parsons, the senior director, who was second in charge of production.
Sam glanced along the table at Jess and took in the dejected expression and the slump of her shoulders. He’d been too tough with her, he decided. It was time to heal the wound before it became any deeper.
“Okay everyone. Let’s get this show on the road,” he said, opening the meeting. “Firstly, has everyone met our newest addition, Jessica Seymour?”
There was a general murmur of welcome around the table although Jess had met most of the people over the past few days. Sam gave a glowing report of her past experience in country television reporting and briefly explained her new role, making her flush with pride.
“I haven’t met Jessica yet,” a light, tinkling voice interrupted and Jess watched the program’s anchorwoman, Pauline Marshall, sway into the room. She placed her arms
around Sam’s neck, kissing the top of his bent head and drifted into the seat next to him.
“Nice to meet you,” she said, with a nod at Jess. Jess smiled in return and tried not to stare. Pauline was even lovelier off-camera--with straight blonde hair hanging to her shoulders in a silky curtain. Her skin was healthy and tanned and she wore an elegant buttercup yellow dress that clung seductively to the curves of her body. It was her eyes that spoilt her. They were brown and hard Jess thought, uncharacteristically critical, but she knew Pauline was an excellent anchorwoman complimenting her introductions to the show with searing on-camera interviews and occasional location stories.
Sam continued the meeting and Jess listened intently as various stories, some already filmed and scripted and others to be done, were discussed at length.
“Jessica, we will start you off quietly to give us time to get some publicity shots and promos cranked up for you,” Sam said, his mouth firm and uncompromising.
“There’s a nice little story here about a cat woman who is supposed to possess magical powers. We’ll do a light, frothy story on her and it can go to air in two weeks, if it’s suitable. The woman lives in Sydney so you won’t need to travel away. Bill, you work with Jessica on this, will you?” he concluded, addressing the senior director.
Jess chewed her bottom lip industriously finishing a sketch of a devil’s face on the front of her notebook. So, this is how it’s going to be, she thought. He is giving me all the dolly stories. That’s okay. I won’t say anything...yet!
The meeting finished and people began to disperse. Jess felt, rather than saw, Sam standing behind her chair. “Publicity and make-up will meet with you at twelve in studio one,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at her devil sketch and then gave her a sudden flashing grin taking her totally by surprise.
“Come on darling, I want to go over the vision for our Iraq story.” Pauline, with a disdainful glance at Jess, slipped her arm through Sam’s.
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