by Ellis, Aven
I get brave and answer it. “Hello?”
“Lexi?” a deep voice asks.
My heart explodes inside my chest. I know that distinctive voice.
“Yes, this is she.”
“Hey, Lexi, it’s Niko. From the rink today.”
I grin. “Hey, how are you, Niko?”
I glance over at Kenley who has the biggest grin on her face. One that is only second to the smile that I know is on mine right now.
“I got your number from Ryan after our meeting. I hope you don’t mind me calling you,” Niko says.
“No, not at all.”
“Good,” he says.
He clears his throat, and I feel my nerves tingle in anticipation.
“So the reason I’m calling,” Niko says, “is that I have a question for you.”
Ahhhhh!
“Oh, you do?” I say, smiling into the phone and trying to be coy.
“Yes, and if you don’t want to, I completely understand.”
Holy shit, he’s going to ask me out.
It’s all I can do to force myself to be calm.
“Hmmm, sounds intriguing. Go on.”
Niko laughs. “All right. I know tomorrow is Sunday, and this is short notice, but are you available?”
I hang on to calm by my fingernails.
“Yes, I could be,” I say, keeping my tone casual. “Why?”
“Okay. I was talking to Ryan, and we’re down an editor for the Dallas Demons this week. Ryan said you were talented and needed a break, so I pulled up your videos on YouTube. I watched several of them, but it didn’t take me long to see your ability. So I went to the director of studio operations, and he gave me the green light to hire you for an edit. We need an open for Monday’s game. It would be an all-day crunch project, and I know it’s asking a lot, but I wonder if you’d be interested in doing it.”
Oh.
He wants an editor.
Not a date.
I blink. Of course, that makes more sense, doesn’t it? I mean, he barely knows me, and falling on top of me didn’t necessarily result in an attraction on his part . . .
“Lexi?”
“Right,” I say, swallowing rapidly. “So you want me to edit tomorrow?”
I stand up and turn away from Kenley, because I don’t want to see the disappointment for me on her face.
“It would be nice to have something put together by someone who is passionate about the game,” Niko says. “I’m just sorry you’ll only have a day to do it.”
I think about this for a moment. Okay. Okay. So while saying I’m disappointed he’s not interested in me is an understatement the size of the freaking Grand Canyon, I do have an opportunity at Total Access Total Sports.
An opportunity that could break down the door I’ve stared at for years now . . .
“I’d be happy to do it,” I say.
“Fantastic,” Niko says enthusiastically.
I move into the kitchen and take out the memo note pad. I ask him his vision for a show open and jot down some notes on that, so I can give Niko what he wants.
Which apparently is Lexi Stewart, video editor.
Not Lexi Stewart, a girl he’d like to date.
“Okay, the next thing,” Niko says. “What kind of coffee do you want from Starbucks?”
I furrow my brow in confusion. “What?”
Niko laughs. “Well, if we’re going to be working together so early in the morning, I’m going to need coffee. So what do you want me to bring you?”
Chapter 5
The One On-Line Service Dating Profile Question: Is a shared interest in music important to you? Why or why not?
My write-in answer: No, but if he likes Justin Bieber I’ll have serious reservations . . . and an attack of hives at the mere thought.
I arrive bright and early at the Total Access Total Sports regional office the next day, which is located in a brand-new building in downtown Dallas. It’s raining and blustery out—the kind of autumn day that quickly turns your umbrella inside out if you try to use it. Because it’s Sunday morning and downtown is deserted, I’m able to find a parking spot right in front of the studio.
I stare at the building I’ve dreamed of working in for years now. A live ticker runs on the outside, with all the latest scores of Dallas teams and sports headlines from around the country. There’s a huge video board underneath the Total Access Total Sports logo, playing whatever is showing on the network at the moment.
I turn my car engine off. As I’m about to get out of my car, to walk through those hallowed doors, the pressure of this moment hits me full force.
If you do this well, Lexi, you might end up working here in the future. If you mess this up, or do anything less than a mind-blowing brilliant piece, you’ll never be considered for a full-time position.
And I’ll never have Niko as a coworker, either.
Damn it! I mentally smack myself in the head. No, no, no, I can’t have Niko thoughts. I can’t put him in this equation. This is all about editing. A career.
Not someone I would like to date.
Besides, Niko sees me as the girl who can edit a show opening for him in a time of crisis.
Not the girl he’d take to a cute wine bar in Uptown Dallas to get to know better.
Right. I need to remember I’m the kind of girl Niko will talk about last night’s Demons game with and then ask where is a great sushi restaurant to take his date to.
And while I’m used to guys doing that, of seeing me as the cool buddy girl, the idea of Niko labeling me as such makes me cringe.
Okay, I need to get a grip. Niko fell on you to save you from a concussion. So quit thinking about him as anything other than a nice guy who needs some help and is giving you a break.
Or so I tell myself.
The rain is coming down sideways now. I brace myself to face the elements. I dressed accordingly, with my rain slicker layered over a black quilted puffer vest and cream, long-sleeved T-shirt. I added a green plaid scarf for a pop of color and paired this with my skinny jeans and Wellington boots.
And my long auburn hair is styled into a twisted ponytail, since I knew good hair was an impossible feat today. Yet I still look cute, at least I think so.
Not that Niko would notice, of course.
“Shut up!” I yell aloud to my brain, desperate to shut the Niko thoughts out.
Oh lord. Now I’m yelling at myself?
I throw my hood up over my head, open the car door, and as soon as I do the cold rain whips me in the face. I grab my tote and sling it over my shoulder, running up to the Total Access Total Sports building. Shit, it’s freezing out here. The sooner I’m inside, the better.
I make it up to the entrance and pull open the door. Wow. I enter the lobby, and I’m awed by a huge wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling video display showcasing what is currently showing on network air. The walls are curved, and photos of Total Access Total Sports talent are prominently displayed.
I wipe my boots on the floor mat and make my way across the reception area, moving past the futuristic-looking white chairs and sofas with chrome legs, to the large, curved, silver-colored reception desk, which is placed right in front of the high-definition video display.
The receptionist watches me as I approach. I’m the only person in the lobby right now. My stomach flips in a combination of nerves and excitement.
“Good morning,” she says, smiling at me. “May I help you?”
“Yes,” I say, stopping in front of her. “I’m here to see Niko Xenakis. I’m Lexi Stewart. He’s expecting me.”
“Of course, one moment,” she says, peering over her glasses at the computer screen in front of her. She swivels back to her phone system and keys a number. “Niko? Yes,
I have a Lexi Stewart here for you . . . Okay, thank you.”
She smiles at me. “Please sign the visitor log here,” she says, handing me a pen. “Niko will be right up. In the meantime, you’ll have to have a visitor badge clipped to your shirt.”
“Sure,” I say, filling out the information in the log book. The woman hands me a badge that reads: ‘VISITOR: TOTAL ACCESS TOTAL SPORTS,’ and I eagerly clip it to my black vest.
Visitor, Phase One, I think. Employee, Phase Two.
I move away from her desk and slip out of my raincoat, folding it over my arm. I watch the rain pour against the windows, thinking this gray, cold day might be the day that everything changes for me. I refocus my attention to the video highlights I’ve laid out in my head over and over again, and how I’m going to assemble them to blow everyone here away.
I’m determined now. I’m all about the editing. And building future opportunities for myself. Nothing else matters, and I won’t be distracted by Niko or anything else, for that matter.
Besides, he’s probably not as gorgeous as I remember, I muse. Guys never live up to my initial memory.
I hear someone approaching. I turn around and see Niko striding toward me.
For once my initial memory has failed me.
Niko is still tall, dark, and all kinds of Mediterranean hot.
And I’m totally full of crap if I think I can ignore his presence all day.
“Lexi,” Niko says, flashing me a grin, “you have no idea how happy I am to see you this morning.”
A shiver shoots down my spine in response to his smile. Oh, does he have any idea at all how gorgeous he is?
“Is that so?” I ask, managing to come up with a smart response. “You must be in dire need of a stop-gap editor this morning.”
Niko’s smile grows wider, and holy hell, I see a dimple.
And I have a thing for guys who have dimples.
How am I going to edit knowing Niko has a dimple in his cheek?
“No,” Niko says, slowly rubbing his hand over his chin in a thoughtful manner. “I wanted to see if you knew the Denise Richards degree of separation from Kevin Bacon.”
Then he cocks an eyebrow at me, as if testing my knowledge of the game.
I have zero chance of not having a huge crush on him. Zero.
“What do you think I am, an amateur?” I say, picking up my bag out of the guest chair and casually slinging it over my shoulder. “Denise stared with Kevin in that really awful movie Wild Things, and as such, has a Bacon Number of 1, because you score a point if you work directly with Kevin.”
Niko laughs, his deep voice echoing through the deserted lobby, and I find myself laughing, too.
“Touché,” he says. “I should’ve known not to tangle with you on all things Kevin Bacon. Seems like it’s a losing proposition on my part. However, I don’t think I’m losing at all by getting you as an editor today. And if your editing is equal to your knowledge of Bacon numbers, I’m in more than capable hands.”
I bite my lip. Now I want to do well for two reasons. To hopefully put myself in a position to work here someday, but I don’t want to let Niko down, either.
“Let’s head back,” Niko says, nodding in the direction of the hallway.
“Sounds good,” I say, falling into step with him. “And Niko, I can’t even begin to thank you for this opportunity. You don’t know anything about me—”
“Not true,” Niko says, pausing to hold the door open for me to walk though. “I know you’re passionate about hockey. You can edit, and apparently from the people who are currently employed here, you know more about the Demons than the entire editing staff strung together. Come on, Lexi. You’ve seen the opens on air. They’re shit.
“It pisses me off as a producer to have an uninspired video to set the table for that night’s game,” Niko continues. “So I’m not exactly going out on a limb here to get your help. My first game as a producer is tomorrow. And quite frankly, I’m relieved you’re going to give me my open to my first show as opposed to these guys here who’d rather be working on football or basketball.”
I hear the intensity shift in his voice. Niko’s determined to crush this show tomorrow night, from the first second of his telecast, which will begin with the open I create for him today.
“I’m honored you’re trusting me with this,” I say honestly. “And I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to give you one kick-ass intro to your telecast.”
Niko stops for a second. “I know I have nothing to back this up on, but I believe you.”
My heart jumps when I see the intensity in his striking blue eyes. He feels it, too. That we know nothing about each other but there’s this gut sense between us an—
Niko clears his throat and resumes walking, and I try to reset my brain to the Dallas Demons and editing again.
But now the Dallas Demons to me doesn’t necessarily mean Harrison and Nate anymore.
It means Niko.
We head back to the production wing, and I’m still drinking in all the sights around me. Each hallway is dedicated to a different sport, and right now I’m walking along walls painted like football fields.
“All right, here we are,” Niko says, leading me to an office and opening another door for me, “the editing suite.”
Anticipation zips through me when I step inside. It’s dimly lit, and I see the state-of-the-art editing machines in front of me. I see a picture of the team celebrating a goal frozen on the screen of the Avid machine, which is the editing equipment for video.
“Do you have After Effects?” I turn to Niko. “That is a killer program. I can layer all kinds of special effects into the video with that.”
Niko grins at me. “Yes. So why do I feel like I’m Santa and I’ve given you the best present ever?”
“You have!” I cry enthusiastically.
I drape my coat over the back of the chair and drop my bag on the floor.
“Ready?” Niko asks.
You have no idea how ready I am for this, Niko.
“Yes,” I say, nodding.
“Okay, let me grab a chair and I’ll show you how stuff is filed.”
I sit, and Niko takes the chair from the computer desk behind us. I scoot over for him and he moves next to me.
“I went ahead and found those clips you talked about yesterday,” he says, retrieving the video files.
As soon as he sits down next to me, I recognize his scent. That deadly combination of spice and cedar that is lingering on his olive skin and, oh shit, how can I block that out so I can concentrate?
We discuss some things and then Niko pushes back from the desk.
“I need to get something, I’ll be right back,” he says.
“Okay.” I nod. “Oh, do you mind if I put on some music from Spotify? I like to work to music.”
Niko lifts an eyebrow. “That depends what it is.”
“5 Seconds of Summer,” I say, keeping a straight face while referring to the Australian boy band.
Niko furrows his brow. “Um, sure, whatever you want.”
I burst out laughing.
“I should be offended if you think that’s what I want to listen to.”
He flashes me a grin.
“Thank God,” he admits. “But for real, what do you listen to?”
“Ed Sheeran will work today. X.”
“I suppose you could start with that before moving over to No. 5 Collaborations Project,” he says before heading out the door.
No. He just referenced one of Ed Sheeran’s independent EP releases? He knows this much about my favorite musician?
Let’s see, I now have to fight through his pop culture knowledge, his passion for hockey, his TV ability, his incredible scent, and his Ed Sheeran intel
ligence to build this open? I have to focus when this man is sitting next to me?
Wait. Never mind. A sexy, intelligent, funny, man like Niko wouldn’t go out with an editing geek like me. Problem solved.
I should be happy about this.
Relieved, actually.
So why do I feel disappointed inside?
I cough to shake everything from my head. I bring up Spotify and turn some music on, then I begin to go about building the open for Niko’s Dallas Demons producing career.
I’m getting started when the door opens again. I turn and see Niko standing there, holding two holiday Starbucks cups in his hands.
“I promised you a gingerbread latte,” Niko says, handing me a cup.
“Awh, thank you so much,” I say, taking the cup from him.
Suddenly I notice there’s a name written in marker on it, like the baristas always do when they are filling orders.
However, it doesn’t say ‘Lexi.’
It says, ‘Editor.’
My eyes immediately shift to Niko.
“That’s who you are, Lexi,” Niko says softly. “You’re an editor.”
My throat swells. Niko is willing to go off a few YouTube videos and what Ryan has said to give me a chance.
The biggest chance I’ll ever have to make it in this business in Dallas.
“Thank you,” I say, touched by this gesture. “I won’t let you down.”
Niko moves around and reclaims the seat next to me. He parks his cup on the desktop and shifts his gaze to me.
“I know you won’t.”
Butterflies shift in my stomach from the way he’s studying me. Niko doesn’t even have to say another word, but his eyes tell me he’s confident in his decision to put a key element for his show into my hands.
And right now I’m going to prove to him those instincts were right.
