A Thousand Miles

Part 13

Shane sat at a corner table scanning the front page of the hotel lobby copy of US News, but not really reading it. The conversation he'd had with JoLynn, Mel, and Curtis yesterday played continually through his mind. That JoLynn assumed he and Truman had some plan for him to replace her troubled him. And more troubling was the fact that Mel and Curtis thought it might happen as well.

He took a slow sip of coffee and pushed out a burdened sigh. Truth was, he hadn't been completely honest with them. He hadn't lied. There was no deal, no contract, no plan that spelled out a secret agenda that would change the players in charge of the show other than his addition as a co-host. But in his initial meeting with Truman, the eventual possibility of his taking the hosting helm had come up. It had been one comment, made in passing with no bearing on the terms of his employment. No plan had been made.

Absently, he turned a page and scanned the contents, his thoughts still churning. Though Truman had mentioned the possibility, it seemed so remote he didn't take it seriously. He'd never been on T.V. before. What if he got out there and crashed completely? Truman wouldn't even offer him another contract, let alone move him into such a prominent position. The comment had just been bluster and talk, and he had recognized it as such.

But should he have mentioned it yesterday?

Shane took a deep breath and held it for a long moment. They had been concerned enough to finally ask him directly. But he didn't see the point in troubling them further by bringing up something that wasn't even a real possibility anyway. Especially now that he'd been with them for a few weeks. Bringing it up now would only destroy any trust they had in him, and he wouldn't be able to recover from that.

"Mind if I join you?"

Shane jumped slightly at the unexpected sound of JoLynn's voice. He folded the paper and laid it on the table, pushing his troubling thoughts aside. "You know, I was just sitting here hoping that you would. And might I just say, you make that dress look good."

She gave him a smirk and rolled her eyes. But it was true. It was quite a dress she wore; turquoise blue, like the sky on a cloudless summer day, with straps that tied behind her neck halter style, leaving her smooth shoulders bare enough to touch. She wore her hair up and big silver hoop earrings. Like she was ready for a party.

On her plate lay a waffle from the continental breakfast bar. She put it down along with a plastic cup filled with milk. He couldn't suppress a grin. Not that he would have tried.

"You drink milk." Shane pushed his own plate aside and folded his arms on the table top, enjoying the discovery.

One of her perfectly groomed eyebrows arched upward. "Is that not the kind of girl you had me pegged for, either?" She pulled back the foil cover on a small tub of syrup and poured it over her waffle. Then she opened another and added its contents as well.

"And you like a lot of syrup." He leaned forward.

"There's never enough syrup in one of these little things."

"See, I might have pegged you for an oatmeal and coffee girl, or maybe tea." He enjoyed the sight of her slow smile spreading in much the same way as the sugary syrup on her breakfast, even though she didn't look at him. "Up until yesterday, that is, when I found out you have a tattoo. After that I'm sure I would have pegged you for a biscuits and gravy with OJ sort of girl. You know, someone who likes to live a little more dangerously." He pushed himself back in his chair and willed her to turn those green eyes up to him, which she finally did. "But I never, ever would have assumed that your choice would be waffles and milk."

She took a bite and then spoke with her mouth full. "Maybe you shouldn't assume."

JoLynn met his gaze for a long moment, her smile never wavering, before she looked back down to cut another bite from her waffle. "So, what's going on in the world this morning?"

"Nothing new. Political unrest abroad, meanwhile back at home the rich keep getting richer." He took a sip of his coffee, realizing the offense in his words about the time the blush began creeping into her cheeks. He shook his head. "Sorry."

"What do you have against rich people?"

"I don't have anything against rich people."

She laughed and took a sip of milk.

The sound of her laugh transported him to a time when he'd sat with another wealthy girl, on a cool stone bench in a shady, secluded section of a private park. She had laughed, too, as he regaled her with stories from his life on the road with his father. She was so beautiful, and her interest in him that summer seemed too good to be true. He leaned closer to her, about to move in for a first kiss. She smiled encouragingly.

Then a pair of hands jerked him up off the bench from behind.

"Keep your filthy hands off my sister!"

Next thing he knew, he was pinned against a tree by two hulking football players. Almost before he realized what was happening, the girl's brother landed a punch in his midsection that took his breath, followed quickly by another to the head. The punches kept coming until he tasted blood and doubled over. He hit the ground, but the beating continued.

He felt the kick that broke his jaw and nose, as well as those that broke his ribs. The girl's screams for them to stop mingled with the profane shouts of the kids who were trying to kill him. Thankfully, at some point he lost consciousness and he didn't remember any more of it.

"Shane?" JoLynn's voice brought him back around, and he glanced back at her to find her brows knitted together in concern. "Where'd you go just then?"

He shook his head and took a sip of coffee.

"There is something, isn't there?" She leaned forward, interest lighting her features. "Something happened."

"It was a long time ago."

"Tell me."

He took a deep breath and let it out. He'd never told anyone. The settlement his dad reached with the other kids' families dictated that they not tell anyone of the incident, as if it never happened. But he'd never even really spoken with his father about it, either. Settling for money instead of justice made their lives easier. But it hadn't been satisfying in the least, and it created a rift between them that still existed.

It probably wouldn't hurt to tell JoLynn about it now. Twenty years had passed. Probably no one but him even remembered the incident anyway. But no, he didn't want to talk about it.

"Tell you what." He let a smile slide across his face and he leaned forward on the table, close enough that he could smell the sweet, floral fragrance of her perfume. "You show me your tattoo, and I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

She wrinkled her nose at him and took the last bite of her waffle. Then she wiped her mouth and rose from the table with a sly grin.

"You could have just said you didn't want to talk about it." She gathered her trash and his. "We're meeting in the lobby in half an hour."

"Yes ma'am."

She gave him a smile that he couldn't quite decode, then she turned and sauntered to the trash can slowly. As if she wanted him to watch her go. And if that's what she wanted, who was he to deny her? She stopped, deposited the remnants of their breakfast, and then, in a move very much like that of little Miss Spring Ho! yesterday, made a slight turn and glanced back him, deliberately drawing his attention to the yellow rose tattooed on the back of her left shoulder.