Heart in the Field (3 page)

           
Nick stopped beside a pub with
outdoor tables surrounded by a white picket fence and pots of flowers. “Is this
the place?”

           
“Yes. It is.”

           
Nick stepped back to let her go in
first. Serena walked through the door, feeling as if she were beginning a
journey that she might never return from. And the unknown frightened her so
much that her insides balled into a knot. Her body froze.

           
Nick jammed up against her and his
hand went to her waist. “You do want to go inside, don’t you?”

           
She turned and he was right there,
the leather jacket against her arm, the muscle of his body warm and solid, his
fingers splaying over her hip.
“Of course.”

           
“Then move, sweetie. There are about
half a dozen people behind me, trying to get through the same door.”

           
He couldn’t be feeling any of the
same sensations she was. What was she doing anyway? He was her co-host. This
was a business supper, not a date. Straightening her shoulders, Serena moved
ahead of him and forced herself to become the person she was seen to be on TV,
a cool, beautiful woman. Not some fumbling, swooning fool.

•

           
The pub was decorated with
traditional beams across the ceiling and dark paneled walls hung with country
landscape photographs and horse brasses. The appealing aromas of the food mixed
with malt ale whetted Nick’s appetite, making him realize he was hungry. He
caught the eye of a pretty waitress and wheedled a booth from her. Soon another
young woman was clearing the table and setting it up with fresh placemats and
cutlery. A waitress stopped by their table to place menus in front of them. He
saw Serena glance at hers and place it down on the corner of the table. “I’ll
have a salad,” she said.

           
Nick noticed she sat with her body
erect.
Nervous?
No. She didn’t look nervous.
More like unyielding.
Or reluctant.
That was it. She seemed reluctant to be with him.

           
Silence stretched between them as
the waitress served their drinks.
Beer for Nick, coffee for
Serena.
She came back a little later to take their food order. He
ordered fish and chips and Serena ordered her salad.

           
Nick drank some beer and looked
straight into her unusual dark blue eyes. “I know it’s difficult for you, with
your co-host changing before the show has even begun. However, this is the way
it is. I’m here to stay, for a while. So be reasonable. Help me.”

           
She slipped a lock of her wonderful
silky hair back over her shoulder. “I was under the impression I was helping
you.”

           
“No. You’re not. You’re being
awkward. We’re going to be alone together like this a lot during the weeks to
come, so get used to it.”

           
“We won’t be alone much. As well as Cam, and others, we have Paul
Kryker
on our team.”

           
Added apprehension slithered down
Nick’s spine. “Paul’s at Steel?”

           
“Yes. He’s been with us about a
year. Do you know him?”

           
“I’ve met him.”

           
She raised her eyebrows. “You don’t
like him?”

           
“Let’s be honest. I’m ambivalent
about him. I know he considers himself a high-class photo-journalist, and he is.
But in a danger zone he can go to pieces.”

           
“I doubt if
Neon Nights
will put
Paul in any danger.”

           
“Exactly.
So he might work out just fine.”

           
“But you still sound apprehensive
about him.” She leaned her arms on the table. “I understand where you’re coming
from. I called him a videographer when he first came to Steel, and he shot me
down. He’s a photo-journalist. Not even a cameraman.”

           
Nick grinned. “That sounds just like
Paul.”

           
“But he’s good. I’ve been quite
impressed. You can’t judge him by his past work. He must have learned a few new
tricks by now. As we all have in our time.”

           
“If you think he’ll work out, then
that’s okay.”

           
“If he doesn’t, Don will soon
replace him. Paul knows what he’s up against with Don. Don’s a perfectionist.”

           
“And so am I. What about you?”

           
“I like everything in order.”

           
“Which is why you are resenting my
intrusion?”

           
“Truthfully.
Yes. I had everything in order. At least I thought it was when I got up this
morning. Now the future is cloudy.”

           
He saw her cheeks flush as she spoke
and he smiled. “I like honesty. It’s good of you to admit that. It’s my belief
that we have to come down to a certain level with one another to be able to
work well together. I’d say we have to form a friendship.”

           
“Friendship is fine with me.”

           
“Good.” A friend he would be, but
she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.

           
His meal arrived. He was starving
hungry. He doctored his fish with vinegar and lemon, and shook ketchup on to
the plate to one side of his chips. He offered the chips to Serena. “Help
yourself.”

           
She snagged a chip from the side of
his plate. He watched her perfect white teeth nibble the French fry. The action
was sexy.

           
“Have some more.”

           
He turned his plate so that the
chips were on her side, and while Serena ate one or two and finished her salad,
he polished off the fish. When the plate was empty he pushed it aside. The
familiarity of eating together from the same plate seemed to have diluted the
combative atmosphere between them. Feeling calmer inside now he’d eaten, he said,
“I suppose we should schedule that meeting for tomorrow?”

           
Serena nodded.
“Fine.
We can meet in my office at eleven, if you like.”

           
“Great.” He finished his beer and
summoned the waitress for his check. He added a tip, signed his credit slip,
and slipped his card back into his wallet. He wouldn’t put this meal in for
expenses. He felt that the time they’d spent here in the pub had been
significant on a personal level rather than on a business level. This shouldn’t
be. He wasn’t about to make a move on her and give her something else that may
turn her against him.

Chapter Three

Serena
strolled along the sidewalk beside Nick, her jacket resting over her arm
creating a barrier between them.

           
Nick slung his own jacket over his
shoulder. “Sorry I can’t offer you a lift anywhere, but my
car’s
still in storage.”

           
Serena couldn’t even imagine the
heightened intimacy of sitting beside him in a car, especially on a hot, sultry
night such as this one. “Oh, it doesn’t matter. I have my own car parked in the
Steel lot.”

           
“Then I’ll walk with you. I have to
go home that way.”

           
As it was obvious she wasn’t going
to get rid of him, she decided that finding out everything about him until he
became ordinary might be the antidote for her tension. “Where do you live? Or
are you in a hotel for the time being?”

           
He turned to look at her and she was
forced to meet his gaze. “No hotel. I own an apartment I rented out while I was
away. Luckily the renter bought a house a few months ago, so it’s free for me
to move back into. What about you? Where do you live?”

           
Serena hadn’t intended to discuss
herself.
Although, he would probably find out soon enough
where she lived.
“I live in West Vale. It’s about forty miles north of
the city.”

           
“I don’t think I’ve ever been
there.”

           
He made his statement sound as if he
wanted to go there one day. And he would this weekend. Don lived out that way
as well. “It’s a very small place.
Barely on the map.”

           
“Don’t you find it awkward living
out of the city?”

           
“It was a bit tight with the daily
afternoon news. Some days if the weather wasn’t good, I’d stay in the city. But
it should be easier with a once-a-week evening slot.” Serena bounced the
conversational ball back to him. “How long were you away?”

           
“Ten years.”

           
“That’s a long time. I bet your family
are pleased you’re home for a while.”

           
Serena noticed a defined hesitation
before Nick shrugged his shoulders.
“Possibly.”

           
Now she was curious. “You don’t
know?”

           
“I only arrived home today. I
haven’t seen them yet. It’s a small family. Most of the aunts and uncles don’t
live in this part of Canada,
so it comes down to mother and father. They live here in Toronto.”

           
“No brothers or sisters?”

           
“No.”

           
“I have a brother.”

           
Nick stopped walking. “You have a
brother?”

           
She laughed. “Is there a problem
with that? He has a recent music degree and a band that’s doing quite well.
They’ve just put together an album and are having success with a single
download.”

           
“Good for him.”

           
They’d reached the Steel parking lot
behind the building and Serena headed for her car. At the car, Nick’s lean
fingers caressed the smooth surface of the black Porsche in the same way Serena
sensed he might caress a woman’s skin and wondered what it would be like to be
touched by him.

           
“Very nice.
Leased or owned?”

           
“Owned.”
She opened her door, tossed her purse and jacket on the passenger seat and slid
behind the steering wheel. She inserted the key, strapped on the seatbelt,
started the engine and wished she didn’t have to roll down the window to talk
to him again. She wanted to take off in a spray of gravel and leave him
standing there. But she had pledged friendship for the next six months. So she
did roll down the window.

           
Nick squatted to her level and
placed his fingers over the top of her door.

           
“How are you getting home?” she asked.

           
“I’ll walk or take a cab.”

           
“Do you want a lift?” She inquired
to be polite, not because she wanted him slouched in the low seat beside her.

           
Nick straightened. “No. It’s fine.”
He patted the top of the window. “Drive with care.”

           
“I always do,” she said. “Good
night. Thanks for the salad and the coffee.” She waved and drove to the gate.

•

           
Nick watched the taillights flicker
and disappear. He would prefer to be beside her in the car. For a crazy moment
he’d wanted to invite her to his place and kiss her until they found themselves
naked on his bed.
Because he hadn’t been with a woman for a
long time, or because she really did attract him?
A bit of both, he
supposed.

           
It didn’t take Nick long to walk
back to his apartment. As soon as he was indoors, he tossed his jacket aside
and hunted his bookshelves. The book was still there on his shelf, and Nick
slipped it out from between the others. He turned it over in his hands and
Stuart Redding Brown looked at him.

           
The cover photo had been taken when
the man was young. Brown had wavy hair with sideburns, and wore a beige safari
jacket over a black Rolling Stones T-shirt. He’d been a good-looking guy and it
was obvious from where Serena had inherited her distinct cheekbones and
stubborn chin. She also had the same intense, but sometimes vulnerable mouth.
It was the eyes that were different. Redding Brown’s were a flat gray, not
conveying much emotion. Serena’s midnight-blue eyes were like flames that
flashed and danced to her moods.

           
Nick sat down in an armchair with
the book and leafed his way through to the photo album section. The only photo
of Serena was when she was a baby held in her smiling mother’s arms. Mother and
Child
was
written underneath it, probably in Redding
Brown’s own handwriting. There was no mention of a boy. So was the brother
Redding Brown’s, or had her mother re-married? Don had told her the name of
Serena’s mother, but he couldn’t remember what it was.

           
Nick flipped the pages, looking for
the section where Brown had mentioned his family and the toll that his career
had taken on his personal life. The section was well thumbed, and Nick didn’t
have any difficulty locating the paragraphs. It was almost as if the book fell
open at that point. When Nick read the words he felt the same jerk of emotion
as he had so long ago, except now he was picturing Serena. Redding Brown didn’t
mention his wife and daughter’s names, but he’d obviously missed them both, to
the point of hitting the bottle and smoking pot, and had, at one time, in what
Brown called a ‘Mary Jane haze of unbearable pain’, considered calling it
quits. And he hadn’t meant his career and going home. Nick wondered if at the
time he was killed the journalist hadn’t been quite so dedicated to the
conflict he was reporting. He might even have been thinking about his wife and
daughter, hadn’t watched his back quite so diligently and had made a mistake.

           
Or he could have been blotto from
substance over-indulgence. Or his death wish might have been so strong that
he’d found an easy, heroic way for suicide. Whatever Brown’s reason, Nick
wouldn’t mind investigating the death to discover what the exact circumstances
had been. Of course Serena might even know. He could merely ask her, and she
would supply the information.

           
Dream
on,
he told himself, closing the book and
putting it aside on the table for further reading. If she hadn’t bragged about
her father’s identity tonight, then she certainly wouldn’t be forthcoming about
his demise. But he’d love to know more.
Not only about the
death circumstances, but about Brown’s entire life.

           
Still not feeling tired, even though
he should be after traveling most of the day, Nick walked into the bedroom,
where he’d dumped his luggage earlier. He got out his laptop computer and set
it up in the living room on the desk. Beside the computer he put his tattered
notebook. Then, after unbuttoning his shirt and making a cup of instant coffee,
which was all he had for the time being, until he was able to grocery shop, he
sat down and opened a new folder on his computer. He called the folder SRBROWN.
Then he opened a new document. The first words he keyed on to the page were:
Daughter—Serena.

•

           
Serena turned right at the West Vale
corner store, and into a side road. She drove up the narrow, tree-lined lane.
Feeling relieved to be home, she parked the Porsche in the driveway of her
house in front of the garage.

           
She patted the car on the way to the
front door, and murmured, “Nick Fraser was impressed with you.” But she didn’t
think he was very impressed with her. She hadn’t acted friendly, even though
she’d agreed friendship was what they needed to work well together.

           
Feeling guilty, and exposed, for
this lapse in her personality, she pushed her key into the lock. The people who
had built the split-level house on a ravine lot had been transferred to California on business
and needed to sell it fast. Serena had fallen in love with the rose-covered
trellises, the wooden deck walk-out from a sunroom, and the garden full of
perennials. Inside the house there were three bedrooms, three bathrooms, and a
finished basement with more comfortable rooms and plenty of storage space. The
kitchen, dining room and living room were spacious enough for entertaining.

           
Serena’s next-door neighbor, Ginny
Friedrich, had been a great help as Serena settled in. Ginny’s husband traveled
with a communications company and she was alone a great deal, which was why she
had six cats. One of the cats had just had a litter when Serena arrived, and
Serena had been forced, by a set of gold eyes and reaching silver-gray paws, to
choose a kitten for herself.

           
Pascal greeted her now by trying to
sidle his furry body by her legs as she pushed her way in through the door. She
turned on a light and he pattered behind her down the hallway and the two steps
to the apple-green and pine kitchen. Serena dumped her purse down on the table,
hung her jacket over the back of a chair and squatted down to take him into her
arms. He was her baby and she cuddled him to her, thinking Pascal helped her
through all sorts of bad times these days.
And today had been
bad.

           
When he wriggled away, she fed him,
all the time talking to him.

           
“A terrible thing happened today,
Pascal. John Duncan got sick and I’ve been stuck with a new co-host. His name’s
Nick Fraser. Oh, Pascal, I’m not sure about this move to nighttime TV.
Especially with Nick.
You’d like him
Pasc
,
I’m sure. He’s good-looking, like you.
Very sleek.
He sort of stays with a person.
Know what I mean? But he’s
not John. He won’t be easy.”

           
Pascal began the serious task of
eating his dinner.

           
“And I felt this intense attraction
to him. And I can’t have that. It’ll wreck my job. So I wasn’t exactly pleasant
to him. But he’s like my father. His heart is in the field. This is just some
temporary respite, for whatever reason. He’s not for me. Not that he’d want me.
So why am I getting all up in the air about him?”

           
Pascal showed disinterest. Serena
smiled and let him be. She would like nothing more than to take a shower and
slip into bed, but she knew she couldn’t do that yet. She had the meeting with
Nick to prepare for in the morning.

           
Serena poured iced tea and carried
the tall glass rattling with ice cubes, to the corner of the sunroom where her
computer was set up on a desk. The deck and the lush garden outside the curved
windows were in darkness, and therefore weren’t a lure, so she turned her
attention to the monitor as she opened up her word processing program.

           
While she waited for the file
containing
Neon Nights
notes and script to appear, she remembered when she’d
first gone into journalism and how idealistic she’d been then. She had her
career planned. She would always report the stories with the happy endings, not
the sad ones. She certainly wouldn’t go into the field and expose herself to
war or horror the way her father had. Although at times she thought she should
have gone into the field and seen with her own eyes what had drawn her father
there, discovered what drew guys like Nick Fraser there.