At First Light

by Mari Madison

  • • •

  The week went by quickly, each day better than the last. Troy seemed to be a new man, coming into work on time, looking much more well rested than before, the haunted look almost disappearing from his eyes. I didn’t know if it was due to the therapy he was participating in or the fact that the two of us had become closer than ever after our little Rosarito rendezvous.

  Whatever it was—I’d take it.

  Thanks to a short-term, furnished apartment rental I’d secured downtown, we’d been able to spend almost all our time together. Holed up in a cozy little nest, away from stalkers and reporters and fathers . . . and anyone else who dared tread on our new happiness. We’d walk to work, then walk home. Cuddle on the couch and watch TV. Or cuddle in the bed and watch each other. It was a little slice of paradise and I never wanted it to end.

  But I did want to move forward with something else. Something I’d been researching myself all week, without mentioning it to him. I wanted to make sure he was stable before I brought it up. I didn’t want to accidentally open up old wounds.

  But I did want to set things right, once and for all.

  So one afternoon I approached him as he worked on the day’s scripts. Pulled up a chair and gave him a cautious smile.

  “So,” I said, a little hesitantly, not quite sure where to begin. Or what his reaction might be to this turn of events. “There’s this story idea I’ve been looking into. I wanted to get your thoughts.”

  “Oh?” he turned to me, his eyebrows quirking. “Let me guess. Another celebrity hooked up with his nanny and is undergoing a conscious uncoupling with his former wife?”

  I laughed. “No. Well, probably. But that’s not what I was talking about.”

  “Hm.” He tapped his finger to his chin. “Someone had a Twitter feud with someone else and they broke the Internet except not really?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Cute. But no.”

  “Oh, oh, I know! Miley Cyrus took off her clothes and took a selfie.” He shook his head. “Though, is that even news anymore? Or is that just Tuesday?”

  I shoved him playfully. “Will you listen?” I begged, giggling. “This isn’t even an entertainment story.”

  “Interesting.” He cocked his head in question. “Okay. Shoot.”

  I felt my face flush as his eyes focused on me, almost losing my nerve. I thought about saying “forget it” or “actually it was a new nanny scandal, how did you guess?” But then I thought back to our conversation in Rosarito. Of all the memories that conversation had brought raging back. If the two of us really wanted to come full circle—to show Ryan he hadn’t won, well, this might be our only chance.

  “Come here,” I said, not wanting to be overhead. I led him over to the He Said, She Said studio and shut the door behind us. When I was sure we were alone, I turned back to Troy.

  “Water World,” I said with a secretive grin.

  He frowned. “Wait, what? What about Water World?”

  “It’s still open for business.”

  “Yes. . . . And?”

  “And it’s presumably still violating state and federal animal rights laws on a daily basis.”

  He nodded. “Seems likely.”

  I swallowed hard. My pulse buzzed at my wrists. Here went nothing. “Well, as you know we lost all our undercover video back when everything went down. Ryan may have it—but he’s obviously not going to hand it over. Besides, it’s five years old at this point—clearly they would just argue that they’ve cleaned up their act since then.”

  “Right. Of course.” Troy’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are you getting at, Sarah?”

  I twisted my hands together, nervous excitement rioting through me now. “Last week, before we went to Mexico, I got a call from a whistleblower. He’d seen my dad’s press conference and remembered how I used to protest back in the day. He says all the bad stuff we were trying to stop back then is still going on. And he’s willing to take us through the park at night, undercover, so we can get new video.”

  Troy frowned. “And what would we do with this new video exactly?”

  “Come on, Troy! We’re reporters. We work for the number one news station in San Diego. We can get the video, then show it to experts and get their opinions. Then we can air the segment on TV as a big exposé.”

  “That sounds good in theory,” Troy replied. “But they’re never going to let us work on something other than entertainment. Remember what happened when I tried to get my old job back? Richard refused—saying I wasn’t ready.”

  “Right. And maybe this is your opportunity to prove him wrong!” I exclaimed. “Show him you are ready for real news again.” I shrugged. “I mean, think about how big this could be. Imagine if this story went national. If it led to Water World being shut down. It could be Emmy worthy.” I smiled. “Besides, we don’t have to tell them we’re working on it. We can still do our regular jobs. And have Ben fill in if anything conflicts. It’s just one story, after all. They’ll never even realize we’re working on it until it’s ready to air. And then, once they see it, how could they refuse?”

  Troy bit his lower lip. I could practically see the gears in his head turning as he considered the idea. I held my breath, waiting for his reply.

  “And you’re sure this guy is legit?” he asked. “This isn’t some kind of trick?”

  “I called Water World,” I told him. “He definitely works there. Evidently as some kind of security guy. Which is perfect, if you think about it. He’ll have the access to get us in without getting caught.”

  Troy didn’t answer at first. And he didn’t look at me. My heart began to feel heavy in my chest. Did he really think it was a bad idea?

  I sighed. “Look, Troy, if you don’t want to do this, that’s totally fine. I mean, I know what you’re going through—and you’ve only just started getting help. It’s going to take a while before you’re back to your old self. Unfortunately this can’t wait. I can’t risk this guy changing his mind. If I’m going to do this, it has to be now.”

  I gave him a pleading look. “Five years ago, I ruined my chance to save these animals. And it’s something I’ve lived with every day of my life since. The idea of getting a second chance—to make things right at last . . . Well, I can’t in good conscience pass that up.”

  He nodded, giving me a small, sad smile. “You’re truly beautiful when you get all passionate about something, you know that?” he teased. “I mean, not that you’re not always beautiful,” he added quickly. “But when you get that determined look in your eye . . .” He shook his head. “What mortal man could resist you?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I can think of plenty,” I told him. “But if that’s your way of saying you’ll help me with this story? I’ll take it.”

  “I will help,” he said. “And not only for the chance of getting back to reporting on the streets. You may not realize this, but once upon a time I cared for those animals as much as you did. And the idea of shutting down those bastards for good? Well, how could I possibly say no?”

  He reached up, taking my face in his hands, tilting my head until his eyes met my own. Then he leaned down and kissed me hard on the mouth. Chills raked through me, all while heat rose in my belly. When we came up for air, I glanced over at the studio door.

  “You know,” I said. “I did lock it when we came in . . .”

  He grinned. “And we’re the only ones with the key . . .”

  “And we do have a couple hours to kill before our taping.”

  “Well, Miss Martin,” he declared. “I know exactly what ‘He’ would suggest we do about this situation.”

  My eyes danced. “For once I’m pretty sure ‘She’ is in completely agreement.”

  thirty-six

  TROY

  To be fair, I really did try to go back to my therapist to continue my treatment, as promised. But the next day
I got stuck behind a massive traffic accident, which would have caused me to miss half the session anyway. And the next day I had to meet with a Realtor to try to find a new place to live—I just couldn’t stand all those reporters knowing where to track me down. On Thursday, I accidentally slept through my alarm, which wasn’t a bad thing, necessarily—these days I needed all the sleep I could get. But it did mean missing appointment number four.

  It was at that point the therapist called me on the phone. And left a message on my voice mail letting me know that this may not be working out. She had some long rambling speech about me having to want to put in the work if I wanted to get better. Which was ridiculous, of course. Because I really did want to put in the work. It was just hard to find the time.

  I was too embarrassed to call her and beg her to take me back. So I decided it would be better to just find a new therapist and start over. Of course I would need to do some research first—to find someone who was a good fit for my personal situation and wasn’t a big pill pusher.

  Which was fine. I knew it was all going to be fine. But in the meantime, I felt terrible about Sarah. I knew how much she wanted me to go to therapy. And I’d promised I’d do it for her. No, wait. She wanted me to do it for myself. And I was. I was totally on the therapy train, heading down to the station. I just had to pick the right person and we could go to town. Next stop, PTSD Cure City.

  But Sarah wouldn’t believe that. Not if she knew that I’d accidentally lost my first therapist—the one that she’d found for me. She’d be hurt and angry and it would ruin all the newfound happiness we were sharing. She would see it as a sign that I wasn’t jumping into our relationship with both feet. She would get cagey again, maybe. Maybe even call it off altogether. Which would be crazy, of course. Because I was getting help. At least I would be soon.

  I had it all under control.

  In any case, everything else? It was going great, with Sarah and I spending almost all our time together—at work, after work, all night long—and it was helping me feel so much more like myself. More than any shrink ever could. She’d put her beach cottage on the market and rented an apartment downtown and half the time I ended up just staying there instead of going back to my place. And who could blame me? There was something so cozy about the place she had rented. Small, but warm. In a huge skyscraper building with a doorman that made me feel safe and protected inside. No one could get in. No reporters could peek through my window. It was almost as if we had truly succeeded in running away together and hiding out from the world.

  And it seemed to be working on all accounts. My stress levels had gone way down and Ryan seemed to be suddenly MIA, too. I didn’t know whether that was because he didn’t know where she was now or if he had just gotten scared away by the restraining order and her calls to the police. In any case, for the last week there had been no calls, no broken windows, no scrawled threats. Life was good again.

  But perhaps the best part? The fact that we were working on something important together. Something that would hopefully make a difference. Sure, we still had to work on the entertainment drivel, but Ben was always on hand to help out with the daily pieces, so we could concentrate more on the He Said, She Said segment alongside our special investigation.

  Our special investigation. I still got a thrill of excitement every time I thought about it. A chance to finally free myself from the mistakes of the past. To make everything right once and for all. I imagined the joy I’d see on Sarah’s face when we finally shut those bastards down for good. Got those poor whales and other sea creatures the justice they deserved.

  “Okay,” Sarah said, curling up on the couch that night, a glass of wine in one hand, a stack of papers in the other. “Let’s walk through this. Make sure we’re not missing anything.”

  Since we couldn’t talk too much about the investigation while at the station, in fear we’d be overheard, we did much of the work at Sarah’s apartment in the evenings. Going over our notes and talking through what we’d learned that day. Sure, technically it was unpaid overtime, but it felt more like we were part of some secret superhero organization, working undercover to save the world.

  “Okay,” I agreed. I looked down at my laptop. “I did find some very good news today. When digging through the financials I found that about four years ago, your father sold off all his shares of the auxiliary company that controlled interest in Water World. Right around the time he started his mayoral bid, I guess.”

  “Sure. Because he didn’t want to have whale skeletons in his closet,” Sarah concluded, making a face. “Not out of any compassion for the creatures themselves.”

  “Hey. Whatever works. The good news is now you’re completely an impartial party when reporting on this. Which you need to be, for full credibility. From what I can determine the company is now owned by some kind of foreign investment group who probably bought it in bulk and has never even stepped through its front doors.”

  “Okay.” Sarah took some notes. “Try to track down a spokesperson for them. If we can’t interview them on camera we’ll at least try to get a statement. But not until we have our undercover proof.”

  I nodded. “How’s that end of things going, anyway?”

  “Good, I think. I watched the preliminary on-camera interview you did with the guy yesterday. He’s still working on the arrangements to get us in to film. Evidently the park closes early on Sundays, meaning the cleanup crew finishes earlier as well. So we’d only have to deal with a few night watchmen. My guy says if we pay them enough they’ll be happy to look the other way.”

  I frowned a little at this. “That sounds sketchy.”

  “I know. But in this case I think the ends justify the means. Construction workers on the Death Star and all that!”

  I snorted. “What about cameras?”

  “That’s the best part. Our whistleblower is their security guy. So he has all the passwords to get into the system and turn them off. So there will be nothing to alert anyone off-site that something’s going on.”

  I nodded. ‘You don’t think he’ll change his mind, do you? Chicken out at the last minute?”

  “No. He seems really passionate. And he’s got all these ideas—maybe almost too many,” she added with a laugh. “I had to remind him that the simpler the better in this case.”

  “Absolutely,” I agreed. “Get in, get the video, get out.”

  “Shut them down,” she finished with a grin. She gave a happy sigh, setting down her papers and curling herself into my arms. She looked up at me with her beautiful blue eyes and smiled. My heart melted and I leaned down to kiss her forehead, feeling so happy and content I could barely believe it. I never in a billion years thought I could get back here. But now that I was here, I never wanted to leave.

  Which was why tomorrow morning, I needed to make that therapist appointment. I needed to prove to her I was worthy of this perfection.

  “It’s funny,” she said, reaching out and entwining her hand in my own. “I’m so tired. And yet, at the same time, I’ve never felt so alive. It’s like for these last five years I’ve been living half a life. Flitting from party to party. Having a great time, but never finding meaning in any of it. But now . . .” She shook her head, her face practically glowing as she spoke. “I feel like I’m on the precipice. Of something so great. Not just with Water World—that feels like just the beginning. Only the start of what the two of us can do to better the world.”

  I smiled down at her, my heart feeling very full. I squeezed her hand and brushed my lips across her cheek. “I know what you mean,” I said. “I feel like I’ve been given a new life. And it’s all thanks to you.”

  “Me . . . and your therapist, of course,” she said, looking up at me. She smiled. “Obviously I can’t take all the credit. You’re the one putting in all the work.”

  I felt a blush creep across my cheeks. “Right,” I said quickly. “All that
work.” I untangled myself from her, my stomach churning as I rose to my feet. She watched me, the smile slipping from her face.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  “No.” I leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “I just have to hit the bathroom. I’ll be right back. So we can finish up and get to, uh, more important things.” I winked at her.

  She tossed the papers on the table, a devilish smile returning to her lips. “Well, if they’re that important,” she teased, “maybe they shouldn’t wait.” She paused, then added, “Meet you in the bedroom?”

  “I think I can make that work.”

  thirty-seven

  SARAH

  Oh, yeah, baby! Look at that sexy piece of meat!”

  I laughed as Stephanie catcalled Ben as he walked out of the men’s dressing room, modeling the gray suit, navy-blue tie combo we’d picked out for him. His face reddened, but he did a little twirl, showing off the goods. Stephanie clapped her hands.

  “Oh, yeah. That’s the one!” she cried, jumping to her feet. “Viewers are going start licking their TVs if you wear that on air.”

  Ben rolled his eyes and turned to me. I nodded. “She’s right,” I assured him. “Maybe a little tacky in her delivery, but her instincts aren’t wrong. Go ahead and put that in the keeper pile and we’ll move on to shoes next.”

  We’d spent all morning at the Fashion Valley mall, working on Ben’s new look. At first it had been like pulling teeth trying to get him to try something on. Turned out he was pretty shy and awkward once you got him away from the TV station and his beloved movies. And so, in desperation, I was forced to call in reinforcements. After all, no one knew fashion like my girl Steph. And before we knew it, we had three awesome outfits picked out and Stephanie had made appointments at her favorite Hillcrest hairstylist and manicurist as well.

  “You need the complete package,” she scolded him. “A suit is only the beginning.”

  “You know, if this whole reporting thing doesn’t work out, you’d make a great Extreme Makeover host,” I teased.