Love. Local. Latebreaking.: Book 1 in the newsroom romance series Page 4

  Karli was surprised she noticed, as no other guy had ever impressed her that way before. And boy oh boy did she ever notice it. She could deal with it when he was being Jake-the-Jerk; he was good at his job and made her better at her own. But Jake-the-decent-guy was something else entirely. He didn’t show off his seriously great good looks. He was just comfortable in his own skin. Which made him even better looking and sexier. Most of all his smiles—at the curious, the elderly, and the awestruck kids—were all dangerously attractive. She found herself wondering when one would be directed at her. She also wondered when she would stop wanting to bring her lips to his.

  Karli hadn’t had huge experience with sex, but she had a feeling that Jake could make sex a major revelation.

  Yet he was, after all was said and done, just another news photographer. In her experience they were mostly not-too-bright, ambitionless, but interestingly creative walking libidos with a camera attached.

  Karli’s musings were interrupted as a boy, maybe 12 years old, rushed close by her, yelling, “Sensei Jake!” Karli watched as the boy came to a breathless and beaming stop in front of her photographer, his face smudged with powdered sugar presumably from one of the fair’s fried calorie-bombs.

  “Hey, Brian!” Jake practically shouted, throwing his arm around the boy’s shoulders and gently rubbing his knuckles on the blonde buzz-cut head. “When we’re out in the world, you just call me ‘Jake,’ right? No need for studio etiquette here at the fair. But it’s good to see you. Are you having fun yet?”

  “Duh! This fair is the greatest thing ever!” Brian’s smile practically cast its own light up at Jake’s face. “You’ve got to check out the animals. I just saw, like, the biggest bull in the history of everything! He was huge—more than 3,000 pounds!”

  “That big, really?” Jake asked with an impressed grin. “We’ll probably be heading over there in a bit. Have you had time to do anything else?”

  “Not much. But I want to go on the new rides, and they said there was going to be a magician show over behind the Ag building. And I’m hungry, and my mom gave me $15 to buy food. And I want a fried brownie.”

  “Brian Johnson, I want you to meet, uh...” here Karli saw Jake looking at her uncertainly, then back to Brian, “...my co-worker, Karli Lewis.”

  “Wow.” Brian looked at Karli in gape-mouthed dismay.

  “Um, I mean, I’ve seen you on TV.”

  Karli smiled, as to a new-found friend. “That’s where most folks see me, Brian. And I’m glad you recognize me. I must be doing my job well to have made such an impression. Do you remember any of the stories I’ve covered?”

  Brian hesitated, a look of confusion obvious on his face. “Not really, no. I mostly remember you because”—here his eyes flickered away from Karli’s face and down to her white open-toe high heels—“because you’re so pretty.” Brian’s head tilted slightly to one side, and he squinted back up at Karli’s face, a shy smile creasing his face.

  Karli was charmed. Brian was a very cute kid, and it was flattering that he thought her pretty enough that he actually got up the courage to say she was pretty to her face—or at least to her shoes. And he was only a boy, after all.

  “Thank you, Brian,” she managed to blurt after an uncomfortable pause. “You’re a handsome young man yourself.” Where had that come from? Karli wondered. And since when could a little boy make her chest squeeze?

  Karli saw Jake nodding in approval though, and wondered if she was catching the Iowan knack of enthusiasm for all.

  Jake put his hand on the boy’s shoulder to signal the end of the introductions. “Karli is definitely good looking, Brian’” Jake said. “But don’t forget that people are always more than how they look. It’s much more important to know if a person is kind and cares about others—or if they are dangerously good at charming people off their guard so they’ll answer all kinds of questions about things like fair food.”

  Jake’s dimple came back alongside a teasing grin as he made that last comment.

  Karli felt a different kind of warmth when she heard Jake’s words of praise—both of her looks and her mind. Maybe because she had just been thinking about how handsome he was, but it wasn’t the warmth of the blushes she’d felt at the hair salon. This was just as sudden, but it was down low and inside her. It felt kind of fluttery, too—like butterflies, but more intense and ready to drag more of her into its energy. Now he’s saying nice things about me? she wondered.

  Her attention came back to Jake and Brian’s conversation, which had apparently moved on. “Well, there’s nine more days of fair,” Jake chuckled. “Make sure you save something.”

  “Duh! There’s going to be new stuff every day, Sens... uh, Jake,” Brian’s smile stretched his cheeks into darling dimples. Karli grinned from sheer contagion, and she thought again that Iowa would soon have another heartthrob—one almost as handsome as Jake—as that sweet face grew up.

  “Okay, kid.” Jake thumped Brian on the back. “Just remember to get your mom a fried brownie, too. And get it to her while it’s still hot. Now, scram. We’re going live in a a couple minutes, and I need to get to work.”

  “See you soon!” Brian started off at a run, only to be brought up short by Jake’s hand on the collar of his t-shirt.

  “Brian, how do you greet and say goodbye to other men?” Jake asked, emphasizing the other men to include Brian in the group of adults.

  “Oh, that’s right!” Brian put out his hand and recited, as though by rote, “Hand out, thumb up, look ‘em in the eye, and say goodbye!” Jake grasped Brian’s hand, man-to-man, nodded curtly, and clapped the boy’s shoulder with his other hand.

  “Good job,” Jake said. “See you ‘round.” Then he turned back to his work, tidying up the cables leading to his camera. Karli saw Jake sneak a glance back over his shoulder and smile—another different kind of smile—at Brian’s rapidly retreating back. She saw the pride Jake felt in the boy’s good manners, and she felt that warmth that had nothing to do with the weather or with blushing swell in her again. Wait, she thought, Jake is turning me on by mentoring that boy? Really? But she remembered the boy’s delight at Jake including him in the world of men, and Jake’s calm guidance toward good, manly manners. Oh shit, Karli thought, it’s hard not to be interested in The Dick.

  Karli was going live for the Three NewsFirst noon show, and she and Jake were supposed to be working on special State Fair-edition reporting the rest of the day. She had to deliberately clear her mind and get on the job. So she checked her iPhone for the time remaining and began her live-shot ritual: insert earpiece, clear throat, last sip of diet Mountain Dew, check notes, clear throat again, check microphone, stand tall, look at the camera like it was a person. Just as she felt ready to go on the air, Jake, who had left his camera standing alone, again, just as they were about to go live, came running up with a sneaky grin and his hand behind his back.

  “Karli, this is for you—you need an authentic State Fair prop.”

  Looking both embarrassed and proud, Jake drew his hand from behind his back and presented her with a genuine Iowa State Fair grilled-pork-chop-on-a-stick.

  Before either one of them could say anything, Karli heard Arthur’s bass rumbling in her ear, took the pork chop, and gave Jake’s camera a significant raised-eyebrow look.

  “... Live at the Iowa State Fairground’s Grand Concourse is Three NewsFirst’s Karli Lewis. Karli, can it be true that you’ve never been to the Iowa State Fair before?”

  “Well, I’m not the only one enjoying a first today, Arthur. Five year-old Tiffany Buecher of Boone was here today with her parents. It was her first trip to the fair and her first attempt at eating one of these delicious pork chops-on-a-stick.” Here Karli took a smiling bite from her inch-thick pork chop, clear juices dripping down its stick and onto her hand.

  The director cut to a series of taped interviews Karli and Jake had done with various fairgoers, starting with little Tiffany’s gleeful struggle to gnaw off a bite
of pork chop, missing front baby teeth and all, as her chop clung precariously to its stick. Between wide-open efforts, Tiffany waved the chop-on-a-stick to emphasize her cries of mingled delight and frustration. Jake’s camera brought viewers within what felt like hugging range of the little charmer.

  The interviews went on to cover the highlights of fair food from tenderloins to corn dogs wrapped in bacon to funnel cakes drenched in powdered sugar, maple-flavored glop, and sprinkles of—what else—bacon.

  Karli chewed frantically during the 90 seconds the tape rolled so her mouth would be clear when she came back on the air. As the taped segment ended, the director cut back to Karli live, her mouth and throat cleared just in time. “And Arthur and Bailey, you can be sure that those firsts—especially the food (here she brandished her chop-on-a-stick, Tiffany-style, toward the camera)—will be followed by seconds.

  “Really, guys, this thing tastes great! And I can’t wait for tomorrow, when I’ll ride the Sky Glider for the first time. I’ve been watching people float by overhead all morning, and they look like they’re loving it.”

  Arthur’s deep basso laughter rumbled over the air as well as into Karli’s earpiece. “Karli Lewis, it looks like you have that fair covered. We can’t wait to see you gliding for us tomorrow.”

  ***

  Hearing the all-clear, Jake took his headphone off, hung it on his camera and began turning off and tearing down the blue-filtered lights he had set up to make Karli’s sunlit face pop out of the busy background of fairgoers. As the crowds that had clustered around the live shot realized the show was over and began to move on, he saw Karli considering the pork chop.

  “Hey, Jake, thanks for the pork chop. That really worked well in the shot. Um, do you maybe want the rest of it? This thing has to weigh almost a whole pound!”

  After Jake shook his head, chuckling, Karli looked longingly at the chop, took a final bite and reluctantly dropped the rest into a garbage can.

  “What are we doing now?” he asked her, folding the last light stand and stowing it in his kit.

  Karli put down her diet Dew and took a look at the notes she’d put on her iPhone. “Why is a butter cow newsworthy?” she responded. “Wouldn’t it melt in August in Iowa? And what in the world is a butter cow?”

  “Hey, the butter cow is a tradition here, Karli,” Jake said. “There’s a lady—well, there was a lady—she passed away. Now there’s a new crew. Anyway, they sculpt a life-size cow out of butter every year. It’s on display in the Ag building.” Jake stopped, saw no interest from Karli, and then went on. “It’s a mandatory story, you know. We’re going to have to do it sooner or later.”

  “We have nine more days to do our earth-shaking, award-winning story on the butter cow,” Karli said. Her voice carried a sophisticate’s contempt for all things precious. “The notes Vince gave me say today is the day for real animals. What did that boy say about a big bull? Let’s go interview the thing and get our bull right from the source.”

  Amusement at her word-play flickered in Jake’s eyes before he turned his back to her and began loading his gear into the golf cart they used to navigate the sprawling fairgrounds. She grabbed her diet Dew and sat in the passenger seat to check her iPhone for more notes on previous fairs and anticipated high points from this fair.

  Looking up from his neatly stowed gear, Jake saw a small trickle of sweat tracing its way down Karli’s temple—probably the first sign he’d caught that she was as hot as everyone else at the fair. Although he was sweating right through his company-issue Three NewsFirst polo shirt, she had shown no signs of perspiration or glowing or whatever up to this moment.

  The sweat prompted him to look at her carefully—and to work at not enjoying it too obviously. Her tanned arms were smooth and strong, the Three NewsFirst logo perched jauntily atop her left breast, and her shapely legs led his eyes up to the generous contours she sat upon. Below her slender ankles, a pair of white high heels looked impractical and diva-esque in the walking-intensive fairgrounds.

  Her glamorously photogenic face always captured his attention as great art would, but he felt a more personal attraction to her today and wondered what had caught his attention. He closed his eyes for just a moment to reflect on the urge and try to suppress it, smelled how the heat had amplified the vanilla and subtle spice of her perfume, and knew at once that it was her scent that had gotten its hooks into his libido. Knowing what had started the motor running did not, however, go any way toward shutting it down. Jake knew he would have to discipline himself to stay on task.

  The big animal competitions started right away on the first day Karli observed aloud, so Jake steered toward the animal barns. “These kids can be really great stories, Karli,” Jake said. “Have you covered many agricultural stories?”

  “I certainly didn’t grow up in farm country, if that’s what you mean,” Karli answered. “And how am I going to make this story not-boring? I fed this pig a lot of food. That’s why it got so big. Right?” she asked. “These giant animals are just like all the human midway plumpers eating Fried Anything On A Stick, wrapped in Big Pig Bacon.”

  “Karli,” Jake responded, shaking his head over a gentle chuckle, “these kids work hard to raise truly wonderful animals. Give them the credit they’re due.” By now they had rolled up to the animal buildings. Every species of farm animal seemed to have its own building, with some, like the horses, having more than one. Karli was surprised to see the Sheep Building’s beautiful ornamentation, with sculpted sheep lounging, grazing, or caring for lambs all along the friezes set above the tall windows. And to think, Iowans erected this impressive building so they could use it only ten days a year.

  The enclosures within were huge pens separated by broad aisles for gawking fairgoers to walk through. Loudly whirring livestock fans the size of big tractor wheels kept the many and mostly inoffensive smells of the different animals whirling in their noses.

  After entering the Sheep Building, Jake watched Karli stop and look around. Coming in from the bright sunlight, the building was cast in semi-dark gloom, with countless Iowans milling around to look at one indistinguishable sheep after another. Jake touched her arm gently—so lightly that it was almost no touch at all—to guide her to a girl at the center of the crowd’s thickest clump. “This girl won the biggest ram prize today.” Jake said in her ear. “And this isn’t her first fair, so she should be a good interview.”

  Nodding her thanks for the tip, Karli threaded her way through the crowd to the girl. Jake heard her introduce herself as Kennedy Shearer, a recent high school graduate headed for Iowa State’s ag science program in the fall.

  She stood in well-worn work boots, tight, faded jeans, broad, ornately buckled belt, and pearl-snapped workshirt. Kennedy had the lovely smile that shines from the tan faces of late-summer Iowa farm girls. Long, sun-bleached hair was pulled back from her face in a no-nonsense pony tail. Her teeth were brilliantly white in the light Jake set up for the interview, and they had the unnatural evenness of braces worn in younger days. Daily physical labor and good helpings of sturdy farm food had thickened her young body, yet her complexion glowed with youthful energy. A spray of freckles decorated her round cheeks and cute, snub nose.

  Karli asked some basic questions while Jake fine-tuned his light and tripod. When he again touched Karli’s arm and gave her a nod to say he was ready, Karli took the microphone he held out to her and gestured the girl to come closer. Kennedy stepped up to Karli, and Jake’s head popped out from behind his camera.

  “I put the light where she was, Karli, not here,” Jake said. “Right there.” He caught the girl’s eye and pointed to where he wanted her to stand. She smiled and stepped back.

  Jake could see that Karli was irritated by being bossed, and she darted a stern look at him and stepped towards the girl. Right into a pile of sheep droppings. Jake watched silently as they clumped up like so many semi-melted Milk Duds and smushed under and around her white open-toe heels. Karli suppressed most of h
er squeal as she felt the unwelcome texture of sheep turds under her shoe and touching her bare, newly pedicured toes. Jake watched as she looked down to see a marble-sized ball of sheep poop rolling off her big toenail. The rest of her squeal escaped and was quickly cut off.

  The sheep girl laughed out loud. Jake made a little coughing sound.

  Karli blushed with anger and shame as she looked back at the girl and her big ram. “Don’t worry, Miss Lewis,” Kennedy said, cutting her laughter as short as she could manage. “It won’t hurt you any.”

  Jake saw Karli’s struggle to paste the smile back on her face so she could finish the interview. Karli brought the microphone up to Kennedy. “What’s your sheep’s name, Kennedy?” she asked.

  “My ram’s name,” said Kennedy, emphasizing her animal’s sex, “is Barry White.”

  “Why did you name him Barry White?”

  “Well, he had quite a way with the ladies before we pulled him out of the breeding herd,” Kennedy smirked. “And I suppose he bleats kind of low.”

  Karli laughed in spite of herself. “So how big is Barry White?”

  “He’s 393 pounds, the biggest one we’ve ever brought to the fair. And this year there were more big ram contestants than ever before in State Fair history. So we’re real proud of him.”

  “How did you get him so big?” Karli asked. “Did you feed him fair food?”

  Now it was Kennedy’s turn to laugh. “No, he didn’t get any fried ice cream on the farm. We just kept him on feed and gave him a lot of personal attention. Genetics plays a big part in his size, of course.”

  “You say you took him out of the breeding herd—did he eat a lot to compensate for something?”

  Kennedy’s eyes twinkled in pleased surprise over her glowing smile, “Let’s just say he didn’t have to exert himself as much as he used to.”