Shameless by Rebecca J. Clark

side as if to swish around the creative juices. She reached for her coffee mug beside her computer. Empty. Caffeine might jumpstart these sidetracked wheels in her brain. Cup in hand, she navigated the rows of metal desks, heading for the break room.
    “Sam!” Bonnie Baldwin, fluff reporter and resident goody-two-shoes waved at her. “Your desk phone is beeping.”
    If they weren’t calling her cell phone, it wasn’t important enough to answer. “Grab it and take a message? I’m running late. Thanks.” Sam had just reached the hallway when Bonnie hailed her back.
    The young woman held the phone receiver toward Sam. “It’s a John Everest.”
    Double dammit . She’d forgotten she’d given him this number, rather than her cell. Sam closed her eyes, not ready to talk to him so soon after making her decision. “Tell him I’m not here,” she yelled.
    Bonnie put her hand over the receiver. “I can’t.”
    Sam rolled her eyes. “Why not?”
    “Because he’s, um, not on hold. I just can’t figure out these darn phones.” She giggled girlishly.
    Meaning John had heard her attempt to dodge his call. Great . Sam exhaled and headed toward her desk. Why would he be calling her unless it was to cancel— “Don’t. You. Dare,” she muttered each step of the way. Yanking the phone from Mary Sunshine, Sam took a deep breath and told herself to be nice. “Hello?”
    A soft chuckle echoed over the line. “You were trying to avoid me.”
    “And he’s smart, too,” she murmured. “Calling to work out a time for our date next week?”
    “Actually, I, ah, called to cancel. I pretty much forced you into saying yes, so I called to tell you you’re off the hook.”
    Oh, no you don’t , she thought, even though she should be happy he was canceling on her. “But you paid for my ticket.”
    “Forget about it.”
    “Nope. I don’t want 300 bucks hanging over my head and I can’t afford to pay you back.”
    “Samantha—”
    “A deal’s a deal. I won’t let you renege on it. And who knows? We might even have a good time together.” Sure. On a cold day in hell, maybe.

 
     
    Chapter 4

     
    Hard rock blasted from the Beetle’s radio as Sam drove north on I-5, heading home after a long day at work. This kind of music wasn’t her usual taste, but she was too wired to listen to anything even remotely mellow.
    Part of her mood was due to the article she’d just turned in. She grinned, pleased with herself. All day yesterday, rumors had abounded throughout the city about the possibility that Darwin Tooch, the star center of the Seattle Sharks basketball team, had asked to be traded. Tooch was known for his animosity toward the press and had refused all interviews. His agent and the team spokesperson hadn’t been any more forthcoming.
    But Sam had an ace in the hole. Six years ago, right around the time Darwin had been recruited to the NBA out of high school, she’d done a story about a disreputable sports agent who’d scammed several local athletes. Darwin had been about to sign with the guy when her story hit the streets. He’d sent her a dozen red roses in gratitude and told her if she ever needed anything from him…
    Today she’d cashed in on that offer. He’d given her an exclusive interview and her competition would die in envy when they read the morning paper. She especially enjoyed the thought of Wayne Metzger, her ex-husband-from-hell and evening sportscaster on Channel 2, reading her story in his condo with cigar and coffee in hand. He’d be royally pissed.
    Unfortunately, she couldn’t fully enjoy the thrill of having landed a huge story. She had another, more pressing concern. In less than an hour, she had a date with John Everest. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel.
    Glancing at the dashboard clock, she grimaced and pressed the accelerator. She needed to look her absolute, knock-his-socks-off best. She’d even wear a dress, which was a big deal. She only wore dresses when she wanted