Journey To Forever. Carol Steward

so let’s put tonight’s issue to bed before you get too excited.”

      Excited was an overstatement. Terrified was more like it.

      On her way back to her desk she avoided the temptation to look up at Grandfather Chapman’s office window, overlooking the cluttered desks below.

      Everyone knew her simply as Nikki Post, intern and aspiring journalist. She had hoped the internship would be short-lived and she could jump right into the management office, which suited her personality far more. The business manager was long past retirement and Nikki was getting impatient waiting to move into the junior ranks for his position.

      Yet while she wanted the business office job, she wanted to earn it on her own merits, not because she was the owner’s heir. That was the agreement, and if Grandfather felt she needed the internship to prepare her for the business world, she would trust him. But trusting him didn’t mean she would enjoy every step along the way.

      During the past ten months she’d learned almost every aspect of the newspaper except one. Reporting. Even she hadn’t a clue why her grandfather had put her into this miserable situation. She stared at the assignment in disbelief.

      Two weeks with Colin Wright, the man who had reached celebrity status more from raising money for charitable causes than because of his baseball career. Ironically, Colin was all she’d heard about on the news, the radio, and at work since the picnic at Jared and Sandra’s. She just wanted the fund-raiser to be over. Double that sentiment now. She thought she had figured out a guaranteed way to avoid him at the gym by going late in the afternoon when his talk show aired, but even that hadn’t worked. His voice met her at the gym door, as they played his show over the speaker system. Now it seemed her efforts were for naught.

      Gary tossed his clipboard onto the stack of messages on his desk, sending loose papers flying. “Evening.”

      She jumped. “Hi,” she all but whispered.

      “I hear you’ve reached the pinnacle of your newspaper career.” Gary glanced at the mock-up for the next day’s paper and added it to the stack. “Congratulations. What’s the scoop?”

      She didn’t dare tell the best reporter on Grandfather’s staff that she’d never written a publishable article in her entire life. Nor did she have any desire to do so now. Nikki wasn’t a journalist. She liked working behind the scenes—way behind the scenes. One day soon her grandfather would realize his mistake. Very soon. She looked down, wishing she had someone she could confide in. “You don’t know?”

      He laughed. “Well, I understand we’re going to work together. Are you okay with that?” She nodded half-heartedly. Gary leaned against the desk and laughed at her answer. “Can’t be that bad, it’ll get you out of copyediting.”

      Nikki liked copyediting. She’d even come to enjoy writing headlines. “I suppose that’s one way to look at it. I’m just not so sure I’m really ready for reporting.”

      “I haven’t found the memo yet, what’s our assignment?”

      Nikki cringed. “Some radio jock thinks he can make it from New Mexico to the Wyoming border in a week—no, that’s when we start…” she glanced at the memo again, noting the handwritten scribbles “…make that eight days for his relay deadline.”

      “I heard rumblings of his latest stunt. Colin Wright, from WWJD radio, right?” Gary patted her shoulder and laughed. “Talk about a cushy first assignment. You’ll have some luxury motor home to travel in and the exclusive story that everyone and his dog will be following. The whole city could burn down and no one would care, but get Colin on the fund-raising committee, and the city stands at attention.” Gary went on, appearing to be irritated, yet impressed at the same time by the attention Colin received. “If any of the rest of us went down the Sixteenth Street Mall pushing a peanut with our nose, we’d be sent to the loony bin. He does it, and out come the TV crews and pocketbooks,” he said with a contagious laugh.

      “So I’ve heard. Seems a little juvenile to me.”

      “Just young at heart. Colin’s a good guy. The boss must like you.”

      She shrugged uncomfortably. “Funny, I was wondering what I’d done to tick him off.” She couldn’t wait to find out exactly what Grandfather was thinking. They’d agreed that she wouldn’t be expected to write. She’d rather be running the business, not ruining it.

      Unfortunately, her questions would have to wait until she got home, where there was no chance of anyone eavesdropping on their conversation. “Have a good day, Gary. I’m not on the beat till tomorrow. What time should I report?”

      “Is eight too early?”

      “Actually, I’m still on copyediting tonight. Could we make it eleven?”

      “Sure, that’ll work fine. And don’t worry about this assignment, what could go wrong?”

      Nikki returned to her desk and tried to regain her focus on the fourth page in the Faith section of the Friday paper, where the feature article was Colin and the fund-raiser. She just couldn’t seem to get away from him.

      Little did Gary know how much could go wrong when it came to Nikki’s writing. Not that she didn’t like writing, but all she knew about the journalistic format was what she had learned from proofreading and copyediting.

      Paul barked orders across the room and Nikki had no more trouble focusing on her current job. There were several aspects of her present life that she wouldn’t miss. Working when most everyone else was at home sleeping was one. Daily breakdowns of the presses wouldn’t be missed, either. Barking, over-stressed editors would definitely be third on the list.

      At the end of her shift, Nikki slung the straps of her leather handbag over her shoulder and prepared to leave. She sensed Grandfather watching as she stepped into the dark morning, which was ridiculous; he was probably at home sound asleep right now.

      “Good night, Miss Post,” the security officer said. “Would you like me to walk you to your car?”

      Nikki forced a smile and shook her head. “Thanks, Wes, I’ll be careful.” Walking down the street to the economy lot, she was especially mindful of the corners that had become shelters for the homeless. When she reached the car she peered into the backseat, then looked around before inserting the key into the lock.

      Nikki felt a chill on her neck, as if someone was watching her. She looked around as she tried to turn the key, but couldn’t see anyone. She jiggled the key every which way until it finally moved. She threw her purse and the memo into the passenger seat and scooted inside. Nikki slammed the door and locked it, vowing to buy a new car, with or without family money. Surely a reporter’s salary would allow her to get something more reliable than this.

      When Grandmother had suggested she move to Denver after college, it was a perfect opportunity to avoid facing her parents’ disappointment. Until the day she had overheard her dance instructors talking, she hadn’t realized how pampered she had been growing up.

      Her parents had encouraged and admired her every move, never accepting the fact that she wasn’t destined for greatness. She thrived on their praise, blinded by their vision for her. They were furious when she broke her engagement to Rory and went into denial when she had to give up dancing. Only then did she realize her problem wasn’t a lack of talent, but that she simply hadn’t found the right one yet.

      Her grandparents had been the only ones who understood Nikki’s need to find her own way. She wanted to be loved for herself—not for her connections or her parents’ money.

      Grandmother had been the one to suggest that Nikki not mention her family or their status in the community until she was ready to do so. It had worked so far. She hadn’t told a soul and she was feeling good about her friendships.

      Still, when Grandfather had shown her this car, insisting that she didn’t want to draw attention to herself, she’d wanted to cry. There had to be a happy medium between this heap of junk and the collector-series convertible