Only Forever by Linda Lael Miller

her arm and squired herinto the makeup room, where fast-talking Oliver Richards was being prepared to go on.
    He glanced up at the monitor to let Vanessa know he’d witnessed her gaffe and wriggled his eyebrows. Since the day he’d made a pass at her and she’d set him straight, Oliver had taken pleasure in every setback she suffered, be it major or minor.
    “Good work, Van,” he said. “Keep this up, and we’ll all be in the unemployment line.”
    Paul gave the former sportscaster a dark look. “Go out and take over for Mel. He’s got a dental appointment and has to leave early.” Oliver immediately left.
    Vanessa lowered her head, braced for a lecture. “My mind hasn’t been on my work this morning,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
    Paul sighed. “This kind of thing happens to everybody at one point or another,” he reasoned. “One thing is a given—the board isn’t going to be pleased about that little speech you just made. Van, what possessed you to do that?”
    “I told you, I wasn’t thinking.” Vanessa looked up at her friend, feeling defensive. “Besides, what I said was true, even if it wasn’t a good sales technique. There are a lot of people out there running themselves into serious debtso they can put statues of Venus in their bathrooms.”
    “And I should pity the wretched masses and shut down the cameras?” Paul shot back, annoyed. “Is everybody supposed to do without the convenience of home shopping because a few people can’t control themselves?”
    “I didn’t say that!” Vanessa cried.
    Just then Nick walked in, looking reprehensibly handsome in gray slacks, a navy blue sweater and a charcoal sports jacket.
    “What are you doing here?” Vanessa demanded.
    “I’m going out to lunch with a friend,” he answered calmly, his eyes dancing with amusement.
    “We agreed not to see each other again until Friday,” she reminded him.
    “You’re not the friend,” Nick replied in reasonable tones. He looked over her head at Paul. “Ready to go, old buddy?”
    Vanessa’s face was flushed, and she turned away to hide it. “I’m due on camera,” she muttered, striding purposefully toward the door.
    “Try not to put us out of business before your segment’s over,” Paul called after her.
    Although Vanessa was seething inside, shesmiled at America and at Oliver Richards when she stepped back onto the set. A rowing machine had been brought on as the next item to be featured, and Oliver beamed as an idea came to mind.
    “The lovely Vanessa Lawrence rejoins us, folks,” he announced. “Just in time to demonstrate the rowing machine.”
    Determined not to lose her composure, Van kicked off her high heels and sat down on the machine’s seat, trying to be graceful as she tugged the straight skirt of her cashmere dress modestly over her knees.
    Despite the blinding glare of the studio lights, Vanessa was painfully aware of Nick’s presence as she rowed and chatted with customers from all over the country. He’d lingered to watch her make a fool of herself in front of Middle-America.
    By the time her replacement arrived, she had developed a megaheadache, but Nick was nowhere in sight when she left the studio complex to drive home.
    Upon reaching the house, she felt better, and, seeing Rodney’s car in the driveway, she decided to drop in to see if he was settled into the apartment over her garage.
    Music was blaring through the open door when Vanessa reached the top of the stairs, and she was smiling when she knocked.
    “Come in!” cried a feminine voice.
    With a slight lift of one eyebrow, Vanessa went inside. A lovely dark-eyed girl, dressed in blue jeans and a T-shirt, with chocolate-colored hair tumbling to her waist, was sitting in the middle of the living-room floor. She was breaking a thread with her teeth, a tangle of lamé and sequins resting in her lap.
    Rodney arrived from the kitchen, carrying two cans of diet pop, just as Vanessa was about to introduce herself. He