“He seems like a nice guy. Why, do you like him?”
Her blush answered his question. “Kind of, I mean, I don’t know him. He’s really cute—well not exactly cute—but he’s cute. And he’s not in town for long, and is it even fair to ask? Being a single mother’s hard enough. When your daughter is sick... I don’t know. Maybe I should forget about it. Do I really need this in my life right now?”
He hid his grin at her bumbling comment, knowing she would not appreciate his amusement. This was difficult for her but it was something she deserved to do for herself. “You’re allowed to date, Hallie. Your husband died, you didn’t. Don’t feel guilty. Jon wouldn’t have wanted you to be single the rest of your life. Yes, Ronan seems like a decent guy. He doesn’t stink, so he must shower,” Niko teased.
“No, he doesn’t stink. As a matter of fact, he smells really good, but that’s TMI.” A trace of the old Hallie surfaced in her smile. “I’d better get down there. You get some sleep, you deserve it.”
The pressure built behind his eyes. “Can’t.”
“I miss the days when we weren’t pinching every penny.” She moved to the door and paused. “Thank you, Niko. I don’t think I say it enough. Alice isn’t the only godsend. I love you.”
She didn’t wait for a response, and he couldn’t respond even if he wished. A lump filled his throat. I love you too.
Niko removed the shoes he’d just put on and donned the well-worn boxing gloves that lay on his weight bench. Shaking out his shoulder, he punched the body-shaped dummy with his left fist and followed up with his right, each strike more forceful than the last. Exercise, coffee, and hot chocolate kept him going on little to no sleep. The cadence of the punches coupled with his increased breathing took him out of his chaotic world and into one of action. His headache dissipated, and he swung his leg out in a roundhouse kick, sending the flat of his foot into the dummy that he’d secretly labeled cancer, the toughest opponent he’d ever faced. Sweat drenched his face, and he stripped off his clothes down to his boxers.
A left for the time suck cancer turned out to be.
A right for every day Chloe beat the disease.
A kick for every fucking helpless feeling he’d been forced to endure because of cancer.
And a reverse spin kick for the strength and stamina to wake up every day and keep fighting all over again.
Chapter Ten
Alice tucked her legs under the office chair at the desk in Grace’s condo. Sitting before her computer, pen in hand, she scanned the yellow pad full of notes. “All right. To summarize the contestants, Kate Dean is a baker who used to be a homeless drug addict. Diana Field is an Iraq war veteran, cake decorator and baker—”
“Afghanistan,” one of the three production assistants, corrected, his face broadcast on the small screen via a chat room link.
“Afghanistan. Beau Holston is a Cordon bleu pastry chef with a disabled son, and Niko Stavo is a chocolatier with a niece who has cancer.” Would saying the sentence aloud ever become easier? Until Chloe was in remission, she’d be tortured by the very word.
”Any luck on the snow machine or the puppies?” She asked Brooke, making a note on her pad.
“Nope, no puppies, no snow,” Brooke said.
Alice tapped the pen tip on the desktop and suppressed a twinge of frustration. Despite those two glaring problems, things were moving along at a good clip but there was still much to do. Appliances, lighting, sound, cameras, dinnerware, cutlery, and cookware from all of their sponsors were on a truck coming from Burbank. Brooke and the crew would be arriving on two touring buses that accompanied the semi-truck. Back in the early days, Alice had ridden in the bus. She’d been part of something big then, something fresh and new, her ideas come to life at last. After five years, the shine had worn off. It was time to move on. She’d accepted Richard’s proposal as a way to start a new chapter. Perhaps she’d work on a documentary about the blood donor organization once her contract for 3Square was up. Something to think about once this was all over.
“Well, keep trying. Thank you all. That’s all I have today. Road crew, I’ll see you tomorrow. Be safe.” Alice disconnected and clicked on the editing software app before she glanced out the picture window. It was gorgeous outside with soft wind gusts ruffling the flags on the building across the street, the kind of day to walk along the waterfront.
Or edit Niko’s footage.
Alice chewed on her lower lip, picked up her cell phone, and frowned at the phone face. No texts or calls from Niko. She had limited time with him yet she had countless questions to ask. From what she’d seen thus far, his schedule was all over the place.
She turned her attention back to the computer monitor and clicked on the internet to access the EN network’s shared drive. There was a lot of work to do and little time to do it in. The production assistants had all forwarded links to their interviews and Ronan had posted the footage from her interview with Niko. Transferring all of the downloaded files, she clicked on the editing software and waited for it to upload.
The interview had gone well until she’d mentioned Chloe, then he’d emotionally shut down. She’d have to be more careful when it came to his niece. He was very protective of her, which bolstered Alice’s opinion of him. Thus far, the family seemed stable and loving, the two things Alice wanted for her child, had ached for in her own childhood. Willing the painful thoughts out of her head, she took out her notepad and pen. Once she’d watched the entire video, she’d begin to cut it down to the appropriate length, do a preliminary edit, and then send the footage to the team in Burbank to polish.
The file size was large and she groaned. Sixty percent. She flipped the pages of her notepad until she found a fresh sheet. Tapping the pen against her lip, she detailed out the specific time restrictions she anticipated for this project. Typically, in an hour-long show, there were roughly forty-two minutes of airtime and the rest were for commercials. The live show on Christmas Eve would be two hours in total with limited commercial breaks from their biggest sponsors. While Niko was the featured contestant, she’d picked three others with strong human interest stories. If he failed to move past the first round, she’d still have strong backstories for the final two shows.
Filming the show at CG had been an unexpected plus. She’d be able to funnel money to Chloe without his knowledge. It was more than apparent by the sheer volume of work Niko was doing, they were in desperate need of funds.
“Dude, put your pants on,” Ronan’s voice sounded from the computer and she glanced up to see Niko in nothing but his underwear and socks. Heat rushed up to her neck and the same goosebumps that had raced along her skin on that day resurfaced.
She’d been speechless when he’d come out of the locker room, overwhelmed, in fact. Luckily, Ronan had taken care of the situation. She’d tried not to stare but what woman wouldn’t?
Freeze the frame, the devil in her whispered and before she could censor herself, she clicked the stop button.
Niko was frozen on the screen, broad shoulders tapering to a lean waist. Years of being an athlete showed in the cut abs that stood out in stark relief. A dark trail of hair ran down his belly, disappearing into his boxers. He was lean, muscled, and sported a dragon tattoo on his left side, the tail beginning at his hip and the head ending on his shoulder. And everything in between was hard-bodied hot.
