by JoAnn Durgin
What was she thinking? Alex was her boss, more or less, and he lived in a different state. Nicole lowered her gaze. In spite of his apparent faith and rugged good looks, she needed to squelch her attraction for him and act like a professional. For all she knew, he might be married. She’d met several men who preferred not to wear a wedding ring, although she despised that practice.
For so many reasons, Alex Kingsfield could never be a candidate for anything other than showing him the door once he accomplished whatever it was he’d come to do.
Colin had done a quick Internet search on his phone earlier in the evening and shared the results with her. “Seems Alex Kingsfield is the network ‘image maker.’ He’s known for reinventing anchors and hosts from Boston to Seattle and improving the ratings of underperforming shows. Reportedly, the man’s tough but fair.” Tucking his phone in his inner suit coat pocket, Colin smirked. “Image maker, indeed. Mark my words, Nikki. If he starts telling us to dress a certain way, walk a certain way, or—heaven forbid—speak a particular way, then we’ll call the bloke Professor Higgins and—”
“It’ll be fine, Colin. No worries.” Although she sounded confident, Nicole wavered. From what Colin said, Alex’s presence most likely meant nothing good and only served to stoke the fire. Although she knew making unwarranted judgments was unfair, she bristled to think the network might be of the opinion that she, Colin—or Wake Up, Des Moines! as a whole—needed any kind of help. Bring it on, image maker.
She raised her head just as Alex finished his conversation and approached.
“Mind if I join you?”
Nicole mustered her best attempt at a smile, determined to act friendly if not exactly agreeable. “Please. Have a seat. Are you having a good time?”
“It’s getting better.”
Was he flirting? Probably just part of his charm. A man didn’t become a major network executive without it. Still, his manner came across as genuine. His accent was intriguing although she couldn’t place it. Midwestern or Great Lakes region, most likely.
Might as well get straight to the heart of the matter. “I hope you’ll be very happy here for however long it takes to accomplish your objective.” Nicole caught Colin’s wave from across the room. She was surprised he could tear himself away from the fawning group of women hanging onto his every word.
Alex appeared startled. “Did Mike tell you the purpose of my visit?”
“No, and I must admit that I’m very curious.” She started to sip her eggnog, but Alex touched her arm, surprising her.
“If you have an aversion to rum, you might not want to drink that. I’ll be happy to get you a cup of something else if you’d like.”
Too late. She’d already imbibed a small sip during his well-intentioned warning. The pungent taste of alcohol invaded her senses as liquid heat trailed down her throat. “I see what you mean. I should have known since they’ve spiked it the past two holiday parties.” Clearing her throat, Nicole gave him a small smile. “You might want to cut out before the line dancing begins. Definitely before the karaoke.”
“Thanks for the tip. Be right back.” Before she could blink, Alex darted out of the chair. He returned less than a minute later holding a cup in each hand. “For your consideration, we have eggnog, which I’ve been assured has not been spiked, and regular sherbet punch with”—he swirled the second cup—“small bits of pineapple floating in it. What’s your pleasure?”
She reached for the punch. “Thank you.”
“Welcome.” He put the other cup on the floor and settled again in the chair. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his thighs, the hallmark positioning of an athlete. Alex studied her in a direct yet appreciative way, which she found both unsettling and flattering. Or perhaps that tiny taste of eggnog had already managed to infiltrate her brain.
“Are you originally from New York?” she said. “I’m puzzling over your accent.”
“That’s my home base now, but I’m from a small town in Minnesota. Just outside Minneapolis.”
“Ah, I caught the accent just then. Gives away any secrets you might want to keep. You must be a hockey player. That would explain the scar.” Goodness. She shouldn’t make assumptions that came across as stereotypical. Plus, she’d more or less inadvertently admitted that she’d studied him rather closely.
“Which one? I’ve earned a few.” Alex pointed to the left side of his nose. “Six small stitches here. Courtesy of a nasty game my junior year in high school. Almost broke my nose. And this one?”—he ran his finger over the scar she’d noticed above his right eyebrow—“compliments of a pesky, wayward puck. How about you? Are you originally from Iowa?”
Was he playing coy? If he was here to somehow remake her image, surely he must know her background.
“Yes, a small town a little more than an hour from here. No scars or pesky hockey pucks in my past, thank goodness.” Not that she didn’t have her share of other types of scars. The internal kind no one else could see. “Why do I have the feeling you can probably tell me more about my background than I could?”
Alex’s eyes narrowed, although his smile remained in place.
After taking another small sip of the punch, Nicole lowered the cup to her lap. “May I be blunt, Mr. Kingsfield?”
“Of course, but it’s Alex.”
Inhaling a quick breath, Nicole plunged into the spiel she’d mentally rehearsed for the past half hour. “Our numbers are solid, and the ratings have climbed steadily in the past month alone. More than ninety percent of our e-mails and letters from readers are positive. Ditto the newspaper and Internet write ups, both locally and statewide. Colin and I are both in high demand—solo and in tandem—as guest speakers and emcees.” Pausing, she ignored his obvious amusement. “Simply put, you can report back to the network that we’re doing fine here at Wake Up, Des Moines! Our image is intact.” Nicole struggled to control her uneven breathing.
“Nicole, you might be relieved to know I’m neither the enemy nor the Big Bad Wolf. I’m actually here to help you.”
“Then perhaps you can tell me exactly why you are here? Pardon me for being rude, but I don’t play games. Please give it to me straight. Is there a perception from the network powers that either the show—or me, or Colin, or both of us—might need your help?”
Alex raked a hand through his thick, dark hair, tousling it. The disheveled look worked well for him, and she glimpsed a tinge of silver at his temples.
“I’m sorry if I gave you that impression,” he said. “It’s not my intent to alienate you.” Having the grace to appear slightly embarrassed, he sat back in the chair. The muscles in his jaws flexed, and he drummed the fingers of his right hand on the arm of the chair.
“Miss Reardon, I’m sorry to interrupt.”
They both looked up at a pleasant-faced woman who thrust a piece of paper into her hands. “Can I please get your autograph? It’s for my niece. She’s studying telecommunications and you’re her role model. She’ll be thrilled to hear I met you tonight. We’re both big fans of your show. You and Mr. Young make such a great team.”
“Thank you so much.” Nicole started to lower her cup. Taking it from her, Alex rose from his chair and departed.
As Nicole asked for the niece’s name and scrawled her signature, she noted Alex had stopped to chat with another man. She exchanged a few words with the woman as she added the biblical reference for Matthew 5:16—her life theme verse—beneath her signature.
“Is there any advice you could give Whitney?”
Nicole considered her response. “My best advice is to pray before every major decision, whether personal or professional.” She added the reference for 2 Timothy 1:7 beneath her name. “She can’t go wrong if she follows this verse. ‘For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline.’ Here you go.” She handed the paper back to the woman. “Please give Whitney my best wishes. Have her call the station sometime if she’d like. I’ll be happy to speak
with her.”
“I sure will. This is so nice of you. Merry Christmas, and thank you again.” Beaming, the woman nodded to Alex as he dropped back into his chair.
Nicole tamped down a surge of satisfaction at his return. This conversation wasn’t over, and they both knew it.
“I wasn’t sure whether you wanted more punch,” he said, handing her another cup.
“Thank you.” She leaned closer. “Please tell me if we’re in trouble, Alex.”
“Not at all.” His obvious confidence was reassuring. “Tell me something.” Shifting his position, Alex faced her more directly. “What is it that you want?”
“That’s an ambiguous question. Can you be more specific?”
“For your career.”
“You mean my hopes, my dreams, my goals? That sort of thing?” Nicole lowered her gaze. “It seems a little pain in my ankle and the tiniest bit of rum is making me snippy and overly sarcastic tonight. Don’t take it personally.”
“I won’t. Besides, I love a good challenge.”
Nicole snapped up her chin at that remark, an echo of almost the exact words she’d spoken to Colin less than an hour ago. “I want…to be happy.” She held his gaze steady, determined not to be the first one to look away.
He arched a brow. “Define happy.”
Her mother’s words came to mind after she’d announced at fifteen that she wanted to become a famous television news personality. “Don’t come running home when the big city swallows you whole and spits you out.” Just because Mom had abandonment issues and life—no, Dad—had repeatedly let her mother down, it didn’t mean her only child should be doomed to suffer the same bitterness. How ironic her father had been the parent who’d encouraged Nicole to follow her dreams.
Little could Mom have known she would recall her admonishment before every taping of Wake Up, Des Moines! Instead of deterring her, those words always inspired her to keep pushing forward and to face down adversity. How she’d give anything to hear her mother say those words again. A sharp sadness pierced Nicole’s heart at the thought of her mother, as it always did.
Snapping to attention, she refocused on Alex. “I imagine that comes across as a very simplistic answer. Something a small town Iowa girl, trying to make it in the big city, would say.”
“On the contrary,” Alex said. “If you’d given me a blinding smile, told me how hard you’re willing to work and how it’s your lifelong dream to make it really big in this business, that’s when I’d sign off, call it a day, and catch the next plane back to LaGuardia. As a matter of fact, there’s a young server in this room who—if asked, and with the knowledge I represent the network—would probably tell me those very things. Why? Because she’d think it’s what I want to hear, and she’d love nothing more than to be in Nikki Reardon’s shoes right now.”
Confused, Nicole shook her head. “I’m not sure I follow. First of all, I’m very thankful for every opportunity I’ve been granted. Grace from the Lord gets me through every day, and I freely give Him all the credit.” She gave Alex a small smile. “Network executive notwithstanding, it would seem you’re having delusional, imaginary conversations with female servers. Perhaps you need to take a little personal time. Regroup, that sort of thing.” She bit her tongue, but it was too late to retract the words.
Alex’s hearty chuckle surprised her. “Unmerited grace from the Lord is a gift, but He’s also blessed you with an uncommonly strong work ethic. Your charm is in being the girl everyone wants to know, not the cosmopolitan woman of the world. I’m sorry if that disappoints you, but women like that are on every corner.” His gaze settled on her. “Not many have your pretty, girl-next-door looks and innate talent. You’re articulate, intelligent, and eager. You’re forthright and hungry. Not in a fame-seeking, power-grabbing kind of way, but in a—”
“I certainly hope you’re not implying in a desperate way.” Should she be flattered or insulted? Nicole tried not to squirm. Was Alex speaking in generalities, or was he implying he personally considered her attractive? Her pulse betrayed her with that thought.
“I meant it in the most flattering way.” The corners of Alex’s mouth lifted and those green eyes danced, making it difficult to recall what they’d been discussing in the first place. “Viewers respond to you,” he said, lowering his voice. “They feel as if they could be friends with you. You have a natural ease that translates well on camera. It’s a major reason Wake Up, Des Moines! is so successful. Burning up the charts, as a matter of fact.”
Burning up the charts? Coming from a network representative, the sentiment was flattering. “Colin has a lot to do with it. Without him, I’m—”
“Like it or not, and despite your attempts to prove otherwise, you, Nicole Reardon, are a nice person. As your lovely fan said a few minutes ago, you and Colin make a terrific team. But without him, I have no doubt you’d do perfectly fine on your own.”
“Meaning?”
“Exactly what I said.”
She liked this man. He was a worthy adversary and sparked her love for a spirited debate. Nothing energized her more than exchanging witty banter with a man. Sadly, other than Colin, she’d met few men who could rise to the challenge. Until now.
“Fine,” she said, shaking those thoughts from her mind. “You want to know what I really want?”
“Yes, I really want to know.”
“I want our friend Sally to know she’s important. I want her to know her contributions to her family and community are significant, and that no one else can accomplish what she does in quite the same way. In other words, I want Sally to understand she matters. Now, you tell me, how am I doing so far?”
Alex’s lips creased into the most incredible smile she’d ever seen. He seemed to get it. Get her. She needed to resist this man, but in nearly everything he said or did, and even when he irritated her, he was anything but boring.
“A very worthwhile goal,” he said. “I was going to wait until tomorrow, but since you appreciate straight talk, I’ll lay it out for you now. The numbers for Wake Up, Des Moines! since you came onboard as co-host have been extremely promising, especially for a market this size. The network executives like what they see in you, and they believe you have long term potential.”
Nicole gulped. “Promising? Potential?” She felt stupid for repeating his words. She didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t that.
“To move into a bigger market and, although there are no guarantees, to eventually transition into a national spot.”
“Bigger market? National?” Forget stupid. This was insane. The room was spinning. Suddenly lightheaded, Nicole brought her hand to her forehead, massaging it with her fingers.
“Steady.” Alex leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Surely, you’ve known this might be a possibility?”
Nicole lowered her hand. “Maybe. I mean, yes, I’d hoped for something like this. Someday, but…not quite this soon. I’m at a loss for words, which I assure you doesn’t happen often.” She offered him a shaky smile.
Alex’s slight frown relaxed. “No worries. I’m not here to pry into your personal life or lap at your heels like a puppy. My job is to observe your day-to-day activities at the station. You should go about your business—attend the pre-show and planning meetings, prepare for interviews, interact with your guests and Colin—the usual routine. Other than our meetings together, just forget I’m here.”
“You hardly seem the type of man one can easily forget.” Nicole couldn’t believe she’d voiced that comment. Was she flirting? Pretty sad when she couldn’t even tell. “So, how long are you here in Des Moines?”
“I’ve barely arrived, and you’re ready to be rid of me so soon? I’m camped out here until next Monday afternoon.” Humor tinged his words, and he stretched his arms wide. “All yours, in a manner of speaking.”
“How comforting. A week is a significant time investment for a network executive, so I have to wonder why you’re here so close to Christmas? This is a
busy time of the year with all the festivities surrounding the season. It’s certainly not a true indicator of my ‘usual’ routine. Meaning an evaluation might be skewered and inaccurate.”
“On the other hand, the holidays can be a hectic and pressured time of year. Seeing how a person reacts and handles stress can be one of the best ways to evaluate someone’s—”
“Mental stability? So, you’ll make your observations, and then I’ll get my report card in the New Year? Is that how this works? Not that I’m not grateful. I’m just in shock.”
“Yes. That’s exactly how this works. I’ll also be evaluating the show itself since all of you here are obviously doing something right. We plan on using the success of Wake Up, Des Moines! as a model for boosting ratings in sister markets. The chemistry between you and Colin has a lot to do with it, but there are a number of elements involved, of course. And, for the record, what you do on your own time is your business. I’ll only be hanging around from nine to five.”
“Good to know.” Her cheeks warmed again. She hadn’t a clue what to do with that statement. Nor why he felt the need to say it in the first place.
Pasting on a smile, Nicole raised her cup. “Then I’d say a rousing welcome to Wake Up, Des Moines! is in order. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to make your stay here more comfortable.” She blew out a breath. “Would you believe I worked weekends manning a hotel reception desk when I was in college?”
An odd expression surfaced in Alex’s features, almost as if he could see straight through to her insecurities. An understanding of sorts. Scary what he might know about her background, not that she had any skeletons in her closet. Other than a black sheep for a father, and a crazy aunt, she’d led an ordinary, bordering on boring life. No one could blackmail her with racy photos taken during a wild period of her youth. No former lovers could come forward with outrageous false claims.
A stab of fear coursed through her. People out for personal gain had been known to try such underhanded tactics without any substantiation to tarnish the reputation of both national and local celebrities. If so, they could possibly taint her reputation. Still, no reason to dwell on unproductive, ill-founded fears. At this point, there were no guarantees about anything, and she shouldn’t let her imagination run wild.
