Exclusive / a Touch of Heaven Page 2

  Standing again, she stretched her tired muscles—too much biking the day before—and headed down the wide hallway toward Victoria’s office to find out when this mystery assignment was supposed to begin.

  “You didn’t mention when I’m expected up in Maine,” she said as she breezed into her boss’s office. Victoria was finishing a phone call and held up a hand for Taylor to give her a minute. Looking around the room, Taylor envisioned having a big office to herself someday. No more cubicles. This particular office wasn’t her style—a lot of black lacquer and chrome, with no warm colors or comfortable, overstuffed furniture.

  She was so lost in her observations she didn’t notice Victoria’s phone call had ended until she was standing directly in front of Taylor. “Well, he wanted you up there immediately, but I put him off for a few days so you’d have time to cram. You’re expected on the farm Friday afternoon. I know it means working over the weekend, but I didn’t think you’d mind. The top brass have agreed to fly you up to Maine—business class—and pay for a rental car, if you’d like.”

  Taylor was floored by the offer. The management of the little-known magazine was notoriously tight with money and expense accounts. That they were willing to splurge made her feel as if she was finally being taken seriously.

  “I guess it would probably be for the best. I’m sure the drive up there would be wonderful, but I don’t think my ratty old Jeep would make the trip.”

  “I thought you got rid of that? It costs more to park it than it’s worth.”

  So true, Taylor thought. “I’ve got it parked at a friend’s place on Long Island. When I go out to visit, it’s nice to have a car of my own to drive.”

  “Honestly, Taylor, once this piece comes out, you can junk that vehicle and move up in the world! Buy a vehicle from this decade, for crying out loud!” Victoria was beginning to get excited about the whole thing. Taylor only wished she could match her enthusiasm.

  “That remains to be seen,” she stated levelly. “Do we have any kind of schedule yet? Have we gotten an outline of how this is all supposed to go?”

  Victoria reached for a stack of papers on her desk before turning back and handing them to Taylor. “Legal is looking over the contracts, but this stuff here only pertains to you.”

  Taylor hesitantly took the papers. “What do you mean?”

  Victoria gave a small shrug. “These cover things like how many hours a day you’ll have access to Mr. Wade, your accommodations at the farm, and the parameters for the questions.”

  Taylor quickly scanned the documents. “Wait a minute,” she said and homed in on one particular item. “It says here that for the first week I’m not going to have access to Wade at all.” She looked up at Victoria in confusion. “What is the point of being there if I’m not going to be allowed to talk to him?”

  “Yeah, I saw that too. He’s out of the country doing research for his next book.” She shrugged it off. “It looks like you’ll be doing a lot of preliminary stuff with his assistant.”

  What little wind Taylor had in her sails over this assignment quickly left her. She collapsed into one of Victoria’s uncomfortable chairs and sighed. “Well, that just sucks.”

  Taking pity on her, Victoria sat down beside her and took one of Taylor’s hands in her own. “Look, I know it’s not perfect, but you’re looking at it the wrong way.”

  “Wrong way?” Taylor repeated with exasperation. “How can I be looking at it the wrong way? I’m expected to go to a place I’ve never heard of, to interview a person no one has ever seen, and to be away from home to work on an interview for two weeks when I’ll only have access to my subject for one of them! I’m getting less and less comfortable with this interview the more I find out.”

  “I know it’s not ideal—”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “But the assistant could be a wealth of information.”

  “Or she could be there to blow smoke up my butt for seven days.” Taylor wondered if maybe she would be able to bond with the woman over manicures and pedicures or chick flicks and ice cream…the types of situations where women normally got together to talk, relax, and generally gripe about life. That could totally work.

  “He.”

  “What?” Taylor asked.

  “He. Jonathan Wade’s assistant is a man.”

  Great. There went her momentary splash of inspiration of having a little girl-time to fish for information. With her luck, the assistant was probably older than what she imagined Wade to be and was more like a stuffy, formal butler. She immediately began scanning the documents again for some sort of information on the assistant—something, anything!

  “Michael James Greene Jr.,” she read aloud. “Well, that doesn’t tell me much.”

  “What were you expecting?” Victoria asked.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just—” Stopping, a slow smile spread across Taylor’s face.

  “What? What are you smiling about?”

  Another shrug. “I used to know a Mike Greene.” She paused. “It was a long time ago and I haven’t talked to him in years, but…what are the odds of it being the same guy?”

  “Pretty slim. After all, it’s a fairly common name.”

  “I suppose. Still, it’s kind of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

  Victoria didn’t seem fazed either way. “Wade’s traveling and wants the prelim stuff done before he gets there.”

  Maybe now was the time to voice her concerns before negotiations went any further. “Look, Vic, I know you’re super excited about this assignment, and I’m aware that it’s a huge honor that Jonathan Wade has asked for me specifically, but—”

  “No,” Victoria interrupted. “There is no ‘but’ here. Yes, this is a little unconventional, and yes, it’s a little weird to be going so far into the unknown, but think about all you stand to gain from this! You’re getting the interview with the man everyone wants to interview! He could have gone to Katie Couric, he could have called Oprah…but he didn’t. He wants you for this project! Can you honestly stand here and tell me you’re going to walk away from that kind of opportunity? Do you really want to be known as the person who walked away from the chance of a lifetime?”

  “Do you realize this could all backfire?” Taylor shot back. “This guy could be a total freak! His assistant could be a total freak! You’re sending me to a farm in the middle of nowhere with two guys who no one knows! I think I have every right to be a little bit skittish about the whole thing. I want someone else with me. A photographer, a bodyguard…somebody!”

  Taylor was growing more and more frantic with every word she said and clearly Victoria knew she needed to act quickly to get Taylor to calm down. “Okay, okay, okay…” she soothed. “I see your point and I don’t want you to worry about it. Let me talk with legal and with Wade’s people and see what we can do, okay?”

  Taylor was fairly shaking, but she agreed and stood on unsteady legs. “Okay. If it’s all right with you, I’m going to head out of the office. Grab some fresh air and maybe something to eat. I’ve downloaded all of Wade’s books so I can listen to them while I do my research and go about my day.”

  “That’s very clever,” Victoria said, speaking carefully so she wouldn’t spook Taylor more than she already was.

  “I wish I had my bike with me,” Taylor said, more to herself than to her boss. “A good ride would go a long way to help me relax and come to grips with this assignment.”

  Inspiration struck. Victoria came up beside Taylor and put her arm around her. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Go home, grab your bike, and go for a ride. It will be good for you.”

  “But…?”

  “Taylor, this is an important assignment and I’ve already gotten approval to let you know that if you need to work from home until you leave, that would be okay. Just check in and keep me posted
on how it’s going and how we can help. Okay?”

  Nodding, Taylor considered the offer. “And you’ll get someone to go with me?”

  “As soon as you leave, I’ll get on the phone to try to make it happen.”

  The fact that it was a long shot was left unspoken. “Sure. Okay.” Taylor stepped away from Victoria. “Vic?” The older woman stopped to consider her. “I won’t let you down. I know this is a big deal, and I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed by it all. But I promise to do my best to make the magazine proud.”

  * * *

  As soon as Taylor stepped out of the building, she felt like she was able to breathe for the first time in an hour. Her day had started off relatively boring—as did most days—and never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined the turn of events that took place today.

  Why her?

  Why now?

  All around her, people were walking and going about their business. Didn’t they see she was spinning out of control? That the biggest celebrity interview was just dropped in her lap and rather than feeling privileged and honored, she wanted to run and hide? Obviously not, judging by the way no one even glanced in her direction.

  Damn city.

  Taylor didn’t live far from the office, but today the short walk gave her time to think and plot and plan her strategy for this assignment. She felt so far out of her league and yet invigorated at the thought of this being the piece that helped her break out.

  As she walked along the crowded streets, her mind raced with different angles to approach her subject—and then convinced herself they all sucked. She second-guessed everything she thought up, and by the time she was walking through the front door of her building, she was exhausted. She climbed the four floors to her apartment and quickly closed the door behind her before sinking to the floor.

  What had she agreed to?

  How was she going to make it work?

  What if her story wasn’t good?

  On and on the questions swirled in her mind until her headache grew from dull pain to full-blown pounding.

  Trying to push her depressing thoughts aside, Taylor wondered where the confident girl of eighteen had gone. She had started college with all the confidence in the world—she was going to win awards with her stories and be the darling of journalism. She almost snorted at that thought now. Darling of journalism?

  After all her years of studying and writing and researching, she had some success in her career—yet still she felt inadequate. Maybe that was why this assignment was weighing like a boulder around her neck. Why would someone as gifted and sought-after as Jonathan Wade want her for such an anticipated piece? Surely all the major television networks as well as the mainstream news publications would be better suited for a man of his caliber.

  Ah…that had to be it. Because of who he was and the life he’d led, maybe he still didn’t want the glare of the media on him too strongly. A well-known journalist would bring a lot of publicity in their wake. Maybe Taylor was a safe entry back into the world without complete loss of privacy through overexposure. That had to be it.

  Relaxing a bit, Taylor recalled what she did know about Jonathan Wade’s writing.

  All his books had a recurring theme—his hero-slash-detective was not quite the same caliber as James Bond, but was compelling and handsome just the same. He attracted women as Bond does, but Jonathan Wade’s detective was constantly searching—no, aching—for the one woman who got away.

  His description of this elusive woman struck a particular chord with Taylor. Maybe it was her own ego talking, but the woman’s physical description almost fit her perfectly. From the blond hair and aquamarine eyes to the height…why, the woman in all the books even had a birthmark on the small of her back like Taylor did! It was an eerie coincidence.

  Surely that’s all it was, right? Honestly, Taylor wasn’t conceited enough to believe she was the only blue-eyed blond on the planet with a birthmark, was she? Still, when she read or listened to his stories, she’d mentally placed herself there, in the arms of the hero. The woman of his fantasies.

  How awesome would that be? If such a thing were even possible. As far as she knew, Taylor had never been anyone’s fantasy—and she had the dating track record to show for it. So for a little while, as she prepared for her trip, she allowed herself to slip into the world Jonathan Wade had created and pretended there was at least someone out there who pined for her.

  Too bad he was fictional.

  What must that be like—to be the object of one man’s fantasies? To know there was a man out there who was consumed with thoughts of you and who would move heaven and earth if he could, just to be with you. Did such a love even exist? It had never happened for her, and with thirty quickly approaching, she feared it never would.

  Chapter 2

  Friday morning found Taylor up before dawn to catch a 9:00 a.m. flight out of LaGuardia up to Maine. Sleep had become a distant memory since accepting the assignment. She’d been listening to Wade’s books almost nonstop and she was down to the final one. For days, she had listened while at her laptop until her eyes crossed just trying to find something—anything—about the man. It seemed as if he had appeared out of nowhere almost eight years ago. How was that possible? Bill collectors looking for her wayward mother seemed to find Taylor no matter where she moved, even when their last names were different! How could someone so popular be so hard to find?

  Knowing it was finally time to get started had given Taylor her first glimpse of peace in days. Who knew, maybe she’d actually get some rest once she was up at the farm.

  She glanced at herself in the mirror and earnestly began to pray for a full night’s sleep once she arrived. Taylor had never been a woman to obsess about her appearance, but she began to worry about how Jonathan Wade—and his assistant—were going to react to seeing this clearly exhausted mess coming to stay in their home. Maybe she’d scare them and they’d ask to do the interview over the phone or via Skype!

  Leaning closer to the mirror, Taylor came to the conclusion that makeup would have to go a long way in hiding the shadows under her eyes. All her life she’d been told how blessed she was with her hair, her skin, all the things women placed in the hands of professionals to make them perfect. Her hair was naturally blond; the highlights in it caused her to receive envious looks from women in salons, but to Taylor they meant nothing. She wore it long, easily six inches past her shoulders, and straight. Ponytails were a favorite style because they required so little effort.

  True, she had gotten it cut yesterday just to make it look a little neater and more polished, but as much as her stylist begged, Taylor refused to budge on shortening her long locks. And she’d even splurged on a manicure and pedicure—just because. And an eyebrow waxing. With one last swipe of the mascara wand, she cursed the fact that she hadn’t gotten the facial or the massage. Maybe then she wouldn’t look so damn tired. At the time, she’d thought it was the right decision—it was practical—and she prided herself on keeping her life as practical and uncomplicated as possible.

  It was her life’s motto. Her appearance, simple. Her little studio apartment six blocks from the office, simple. Too many complications made her crazy. She didn’t date much because she valued her privacy and had experienced far too many crazy boyfriends who’d walked away after messy breakups. Was she lonely? Maybe. Did she miss the sex? Not as much as she would have thought. Still, it would be nice to find someone with common interests who she could spend some time with—occasionally—and just fill that tiny void in her life that needed to be filled.

  Something she’d have to look at a little more closely when she got back from Maine.

  * * *

  Sitting on the plane awaiting takeoff, Taylor let her mind linger on all the things she had packed for this assignment. In her habit of simplicity, she had made a list and only took what she deemed absolutely necessary. True, sh
e had no real idea what one needed for life on a farm, but she figured no one was going to ask her to go out and feed chickens or milk cows.

  At least she hoped they wouldn’t.

  Mentally cataloging the numerous pieces of equipment she’d packed—digital audio recorder, cameras, laptop, batteries, flash drives, and chargers—brought on the now-familiar headache she was beginning to associate with this assignment.

  The only thing missing was the colleague Wade would not allow.

  Her insecurity was starting to get the best of her and if she didn’t get it under control right then, her work would most definitely suffer.

  Taylor couldn’t remember a time in her life when she didn’t enjoy writing. As a grade-schooler, she wrote short stories; in high school, she worked on the school newspaper, and her friends used to marvel at the letters she’d write to them. By high school, she’d known her destiny was to be a journalist, and she’d even received a scholarship to Columbia University because of her talent.

  A lot of good it was going to do her when she fell on her face before an international audience because she had a mental breakdown on a plane over this assignment.

  Sighing at yet another depressing thought, she fought to focus on the audiobook that was playing. It was a ninety-minute flight up to Maine, and then it would be another hour’s drive to the farm. Taylor needed to finish this audiobook and get her thoughts gathered so she was prepared to meet the man who had taken up her every waking moment for the last five days.

  Or, rather, meet his assistant.

  If all went as planned, she was confident that her knowledge of his work would carry her through the early parts of the interviews with Wade himself. As for the assistant, she was sure she was coming properly prepared for her time with him. She’d want a tour of the farm and to find out how long he’d worked for Wade, and then gauge how much information he’d be willing to give. She wouldn’t jump into instant interviewer mode with him. No, Taylor figured she’d have to spend some time earning his trust without appearing overanxious.