Captivated Hearts

by Yahrah St. John

  Just last week, he watched her tackle interviewing a school board member for closing a school in a poor district. Her interview had been tough and insightful. She hadn’t allowed the member to get off scot-free and because of it, parents had started a petition to block the school closure. It was hard-hitting news, and Jada had delivered it in spades.

  Damian had to keep his distance. He didn’t want anyone thinking he had a favorite in the newsroom. It would do neither of them any good. But more than that, he was staying away because he didn’t like the way he felt when he was near Jada. He was used to measuring his actions and feelings, but when it came to this woman, he felt out of his depth, anxious, and out of control.

  He’d enjoyed casual relationships with many women that usually lasted one or a few dates. None of them had ever been able to hold his attention for long or understood his work ethic and ambition to be successful. How could they? Had they been raised on the streets? Left in a shelter by their crack-addict mother to fend for themselves?

  Damian recalled his endless foster homes. None of the adults in them wanted an older kid with social and emotional issues. He’d always been a loner and more comfortable with his own company than other people’s. That same quiet fortitude had allowed him to excel in high school and then in college because he focused more on his studies rather than going out to parties, getting drunk, or bedding women. Those things were all a distraction from his true agenda.

  To be rich.

  To be successful.

  To never go without again.

  It’s why Damian knew he couldn’t get too close to Jada Hart. She was a woman who’d never gone without. She’d been raised on a sprawling ranch in Dallas. Her father, Duke Hart, owned an oil company and her aunt and uncle Madelyn and Isaac Hart owned a high-end dude ranch, Golden Oaks, in Tucson. She had famous cousins-in-law like singer Chynna Hart and Oscar-winning actress Kenya Kingston. Jada wouldn’t know the first thing about being poor, about failing, about going without. She’d had her every need in life catered to.

  But it was impossible to ignore that when Jada was on screen, she shined. She was showing him what deep down he’d always known since he’d seen her picture and watched her videos amongst the other employee files.

  She had star power—that certain something you couldn’t name. You either have it, or you don’t.

  And Jada definitely had it.

  Telling Andrew to give her an opportunity once a week to shine was only holding back the flame, but it wouldn’t snuff it. Jada Hart was destined for great things. She would certainly be the next Kelly Ripa, and he damn well knew it. Now, if only she believed in herself as much. He’d seen self-doubt hiding behind the outward charm she projected to the rest of the world. He saw right through it. Through her.

  Perhaps that’s why he was so unsettled—because he didn’t want to see it.

  “When are you coming home for a visit?” Jada’s mother, Abigail, asked. Jada had just returned from Sunday brunch with Kyler and was looking forward to a quiet evening home before the workweek.

  “For Bree’s baby shower,” Jada responded. “As baby girl Wells’s auntie, I’m in charge and I’m planning something grand.”

  “How can you plan anything from San Francisco?”

  “That’s what party planners are for,” Jada said evenly. “I tell them what my vision and color scheme is, and they set about creating it.”

  “Seems rather impersonal if you ask me. Bree’s your big sister. I’d think you’d want to oversee things personally, and maybe even visit your mama. I miss my baby girl.”

  “Oh, Mama,” Jada sighed. “I’m sorry I haven’t been back in a while.” She didn’t realize Abigail was feeling neglected. She’d thought that since she and Duke had begun seeing each other again, her loneliness would have lessened. Her parents believed they were being coy, but Bree and Jada had suspected something was up back during Bree and Grayson’s wedding. Their parents had been as thick and thieves, and it was just a matter of time before they were back together for good.

  Jada couldn’t wait for that day.

  They should have never broken up to begin with, but her father, Duke, had been a rascal during the early days of their marriage despite how much he loved Abigail. He’d been weak one night, had too much to drink, and ended up impregnating her half-brother Trent’s mother. After Abigail found out, she ended the marriage. Infidelity was a deal breaker. At the time, she’d been so young, Jada had been devastated by her parents’ breakup. But now that she was older, she understood because she too would never let a man dip out the door on her.

  It was all or nothing.

  “It’s OK,” her mother was saying. “Just promise me when you come, you’ll stay for a spell so we can catch up. I have no idea what’s going on with you.”

  “I can bring you up to speed now,” Jada said. “You know I’ve been wanting a shot at the anchor chair—”

  “Yes …”

  “I got the chance, Mama. I’ve anchored at least three shows.”

  “And why is this the first I’m hearing about this?”

  Jada had walked right into that. She apologized again. “I’m sorry. You’re right again, Mama. I’ve been a bit self-absorbed. But I’m anchoring Good Day, San Francisco on Fridays. I will send you and Daddy the videos of all the segments.”

  “I’d like that very much. And, Jada?”

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t want to be the last to know about what’s going on in your life. Don’t make me have to come all the way to San Francisco and give you a talking-to.”

  Jada smiled as she thought about what Abigail’s talking-to consisted of: a stern conversation over tea and cucumber sandwiches. She wouldn’t mind one of those. Maybe she should stay in trouble. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Several minutes later, Jada ended the call. Her mother had a point. She hadn’t been back to Dallas in a few months. Quickly, she went online and booked a first-class flight home. It was time she checked out things on the home front to see how Deborah Kenney, her event planner, was coming with Bree’s baby shower. Bree’s daughter was due in three months. Jada couldn’t wait to become an auntie and spoil her niece rotten.

  Who knew if she’d ever have any children of her own? After her relationship with Joshua blew up in her face, her career had become her focus. She supposed if the right man came along she might be convinced to have a child, but that day was a long way away. In the meantime, she would prove to Damian that she was the next face of morning television.

  “I want to go to the Black Lives Matter rally,” Jada said several days later on Thursday during a meeting with the other news correspondents. They’d all huddled around the television monitors when news hit about an unplanned rally later that afternoon.

  “You?” Andrew chuckled. “I know you’re anchoring the Friday show and have done a few newsy segments, but you’re basically an entertainment reporter, Jada. You don’t do hard-hitting news.”

  “And I’ll never do more if I’m not given the opportunity,” Jada responded.

  “The street beat is mine,” said reporter Nolan Reinhardt.

  “Yes, it is,” Jada replied. “And no offense, but do you honestly think you can get people to talk better than me?”

  “Are you playing the race card?” Nolan asked. “Because if so, I would say it’s beneath you.”

  “Now, now.” Andrew jumped into the melee. “No need to get personal.”

  “This issue is real, current, and happening in our community,” Jada said. “And we have to report it. We’ll never win an award for standing on the sidelines.”

  “Is that all you care about?” said Nolan. “Fame and glory? Because if so, you’re in the wrong business, and you might be better suited for one of those entertainment news shows.”

  Jada smarted in her suit. She was about to give him a piece of her mind when a deep
masculine voice interrupted the conversation. “I agree with Ms. Hart. Black Lives Matter is relevant and is in the current news cycle. We can’t act as if it doesn’t exist. Having Ms. Hart reporting from the rally isn’t a bad idea. More supporters might be willing to speak with her.”

  “Because she’s a pretty face?” Nolan surmised.

  Jada blanched.

  “No, because she isn’t threatening,” Damian said curtly.

  Jada rose to her feet.

  “Where are you going?” Damian asked.

  Jada wanted to wipe the smug look off all of their faces. Damian was probably waiting for her to blow her top so he could give this story to someone else—to a serious journalist and someone far-less threatening. She bit the inside of her lip to refrain from speaking. “I’m leaving. We’ve talked about this ad nauseam. I’m getting out there.”

  “Someone’s getting a big head now that she has a seat in the anchor’s chair one day a week,” anchor Jay Blair said underneath his breath.

  The glare Damian threw in Jay’s direction made Jada smile. Jay could see he’d been heard and immediately lowered his head.

  “Jada, go make us proud,” Andrew commented.

  “I will.” She turned on her heel and walked out of the room with her head held high. She wasn’t going to turn back and give Damian a moment’s notice. Just because he’d backed her up on the story meant nothing. He still thought she was just a pretty face and not a journalist worth salt.

  She would show him.

  An hour later, she and a cameraman were out at the rally where hundreds of Black Lives Matter protesters had taken to the street to speak out against the death of a young black student gunned down by police officers. He’d had a telephone in his pocket. The rally’s leader today, a dynamic young woman from Los Angeles, had flown up to San Francisco to talk about the injustice.

  Surprisingly, Jada had even gotten a sound bite from her, which she knew would go a long way in showing Damian, Nolan, and anyone else who doubted her journalistic abilities, just how good she was. In the meantime, she weaved her way through the crowd to get small and wide shots as well as to interview several protestors. Their anger about the young man’s senseless death was palpable. Jada found it hard to relate to because she’d lived in such a different world. But she was determined to show their experience, the injustice over what occurred, and what they hoped to change.

  Jada completed her first live report from the scene of the rally. She was just finishing up her broadcast when several antiprotestors showed up and began yelling and screaming that “Police lives matter” to the Black Lives Matter group. The crowd began to get boisterous as both groups struggled to have their voices heard.

  “We should get out of here,” Tony, the cameraman, said.

  “No.” Jada shook her head and pointed at an antiprotestor who was getting in the face of a Black Lives Matter protestor. “Get that on film.” When Tony did, Jada circled her index finger to indicate he should continue rolling tape—and she reported live from the scene. But the situation quickly spiraled and the next thing Jada knew, the entire crowd went crazy and she was being pushed and shoved. Eventually, she felt Tony’s strong arm pulling her through the throng of people toward the camera van and hauling her inside it. Then he was pulling the van away from the curb.

  “That was crazy,” Jada said. Her heart was pumping wildly as she glanced through the rearview mirror at the melee in back of her.

  “You can’t be doing that, Jada,” Tony said. “You could have gotten hurt. Think of the liability to the station.”

  Jada shrugged. “C’mon, you have to admit that was great reporting back there!” She pointed to where they’d just left.

  “Or damn stupid.”

  Andrew didn’t share Tony’s same opinion and congratulated Jada when they returned to the station. “Are you OK?” he asked. “That was a bold move out there.”

  “I know,” Jada said with a huge grin. “It was awesome. I feel so energized.”

  “You should. You showed real promise out there, Hart,” Andrew said. “And I have to admit that I underestimated your capabilities, but not anymore.”

  Jada beamed. “Thank you.”

  “I’d like you to edit the footage so we can rerun it on the six and ten o’clock news.”

  “Will do.”

  Jada forced herself not to let out a loud yelp of excitement because several eyes in the newsroom were watching her. She knew they all thought she’d had a lucky break today, but they were wrong. Now that Andrew had seen her potential, there was more where that came from.

  Damian was livid as he drove back to the station. He’d been in a meeting during the four and five o’clock news hours and hadn’t had the chance to see how Jada fared until the six o’clock broadcast. Jada had foolishly put herself in harm’s way. What the hell was she thinking? She should have gotten out of there as soon as the crowd changed, before things got out of control.

  Sometimes, Damian didn’t know if he wanted to strangle her or hug her tight.

  He did know that he needed to see for himself that she was alright. He didn’t know why, but he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he didn’t lay eyes on her.

  With traffic, Damian arrived shortly after seven p.m. Most of the station had cleared out, but he noticed that Jada’s car was still in the parking lot. Good. He could have a word with Ms. Hart. He jumped out of the car, sauntered into the building, and headed toward the newsroom, but Jada wasn’t at her desk. His eyes scanned the room and caught sight of her leaning against the doorway talking with someone. He headed straight for her.

  She looked up when she saw him approaching. “Mr. McKnight.”

  He frowned. She knew she was supposed to call him Damian, and given that they’d kissed and become quite familiar, he wouldn’t think she had a problem with it. “May I speak with you?”

  She stood upright. “Of course. Tony, I’ll catch you later.” She began walking toward the newsroom, but Damian grabbed her arm and pulled her into one of the breakout rooms for small meetings. She snatched her arm away, then folded both across her chest.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. McKnight?” Her lips were pursed in the same way that always managed to rile him up, and Damian could feel the blood boiling in his veins. He inhaled deeply to calm himself. It’s all he could do to avoid his instinct to pull her to him and bring his mouth down on hers, if for nothing else than to punish her for her insolence.

  “I’m surprised you’re still here. I would have thought you’d gone home to celebrate your achievement.”

  “And what achievement would that be?”

  “Don’t be coy, Jada. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  She burst out with an unabashed grin. “You mean that great piece of journalism I delivered for WLB-TV? Have you seen how much our segment has been retweeted, especially the sound bite I got from the speaker?”

  “Yes, I’ve seen it.”

  “And?”

  “And that was a stupid stunt you pulled out there today. Do you realize how dangerous that was?”

  “I did what I had to do, what needed to be done.”

  Damian snorted. “C’mon, wasn’t that stunt to prove to Nolan that you have cojones for serious reporting?”

  Jada’s face flamed red, and Damian new he’d scored a hit in this neverending battle of wills between them. “N-no.”

  Damian moved closer toward her until he had Jada nearly backed up against the wall. “Don’t give me that crap. You deliberately put yourself in harm’s way to get a better story.”

  He noticed her breath hitched at his nearness. She was aware of him and was trying her best not to be. He watched her step sideways and out of his path.

  “And it worked,” she said. “You wanted hard-hitting stories, I gave it to you. What are you more upset about? That it came from me? I know
you don’t think I’m capable of more, just like everyone else.” She turned her back on him as if she didn’t want to look at him. It burned in his craw.

  “That isn’t true.” He spun her around. “I’m about the only one who does believe in you. Or hadn’t you noticed?”

  “You have a funny way of showing it. You put me down in front of people in today’s meeting and acted like I was nothing more than a pretty face. You embarrassed me.”

  “So they wouldn’t know that I think you’re the next big thing. So they wouldn’t know just how damn much I want you.”

  Jada was stunned, wide-eyed.

  “Nothing to say?” Damian asked. “I’m surprised. Usually, I can’t shut you up.”

  “You, you—”

  “You what? Don’t believe me?” Damian’s eyes penetrated hers, rooting her to where she stood. “Even you can’t deny the chemistry between us.” He stepped toward her once again. “That you don’t feel it now.” He took another step until they were a breath apart. “That you haven’t thought about me, us, since that kiss in the hotel.”

  Jada turned her head away, refusing to look at him. Damian had his answer.

  “Look at me,” he ordered.

  “Why?” She turned to glare at him. “You and I both know that it’s pointless. You and me … it’s too, too messy. Too complicated.”

  “Then we need to uncomplicate it. Come to dinner with me.”

  Jada shook her head furiously. “No. It’s not a good idea.”

  “Yes, it is. I need to see. I need to be with you.”

  “Please don’t say that.” Jada tried to move away, but Damian grasped her hand. When she looked up at him with furtive lashes, desire coursed through his veins and he knew he would do anything to have her. Tonight.

  “Yes,” he said. “We’re going to share a meal together and then …” His voice trailed off.