Kissing Mr. Right Read online

  Reaching into the center console, she pulled out a small notepad and pen. Ty scribbled an address and phone number. A spark danced across her skin as his fingers brushed hers when he placed the notepad back in her hand. It was probably just the spring breeze.

  She blinked rapidly to clear her head. When she spoke, her voice sounded squeaky in her ears. “Ok, well, I, uh, guess I should get going.”

  He looked like he wanted to say something but only nodded. With a quick tap on the Jeep’s door he moved back, turning to survey the line of cars behind them. After a moment, he stepped into the center lane, his arm extended to stop the slow stream of traffic. He motioned her forward with the other hand.

  Kendall gripped the steering wheel and turned the Jeep into the space he’d carved for her.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he called.

  She gave a quick wave out the window but kept her eyes on the road ahead. No need for two accidents in one day.

  Ignoring the blaring horns from the cars stopped behind him, Ty watched Kendall speed away and then walked back to his truck and slid behind the wheel.

  Jenny was waiting. “It’s sooo easy to be nice to someone so what? What were you going to say? Lovely . . . uptight . . . shallow?” She stuck her finger in her mouth and gagged.

  “You don’t know that she’s shallow.”

  “Maybe not, but she’s too perfect. Always wearing fancy designer clothes and never a hair out of place.”

  “Did you see her face a minute ago?”

  Jenny waved away his argument. “An exception to the rule. Stop thinking with your junk. Kendall Clark is expensive wine and four-course meals. You’re beer and wings at a sports bar. It would never work. You think she’s going to go for someone who’s practically a laborer?”

  “I own the company, Jenny.”

  “Semantics.” She patted his arm. “Trust me, women like Kendall are more trouble than they’re worth. If you need a date, let me set you up.”

  “I don’t need a date.” Ty turned on the radio and cranked up the volume, trying to block out Kendall’s face in his mind. Despite the mess of black goop camouflaging most of the left side of her face, she was a stunner. With her big green eyes, high cheekbones, and slightly upturned nose, she was the only reason he tuned into the local news. He’d had a crush on her since the day he’d watched her kiss a camel on air last January. Something had flashed in her eyes at that moment, barely caught by the camera. A mix of vulnerability and determination that spoke to him.

  Maybe he’d imagined the spark between them, but he believed there was more to Kendall than Jenny thought. It was the way she seemed to care about every one of her stories on the news, no matter how light or frivolous the topic. She might not look like the women he usually went out with, but outward appearances could be deceiving. His family was living proof.

  As he pulled his truck to the curb in front of Jenny’s mom’s house, Ty thought about the next morning. He hadn’t felt anything for a woman in a long time.

  He was pretty damn sure Kendall Clark was about to change that.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Glancing at the dashboard clock, Kendall screeched to a stop in front of the KDPO station. It was three thirty, which made her a half hour late for the weekly news meeting, where the anchors, reporters, and producers met to discuss the upcoming broadcast schedule.

  But instead of using the precious minutes on the ride over to call ahead so one of the production assistants could put together the footage from her zoo story, her mind had been occupied with thoughts of Ty Bishop and his sky-blue eyes.

  Mary Samuels, the receptionist, looked up from her keyboard as Kendall burst into the lobby.

  “Kendall, you’re never late.” The older woman pulled off her bifocals. “Is everything ok?”

  Kendall took the stairs that led to the production offices two at a time. “I’m fine,” she called down. “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.”

  “As long as you’re ok, dear.” Mary’s voice echoed from below.

  Oh, she was peachy, if she discounted walrus boogers, a mild anxiety attack, eminent career disaster, and an unwanted attraction to a virtual stranger.

  She raced down the second-floor hallway and veered into the conference room, slamming the door behind her. Her coworkers turned to stare as the questions started.

  “What happened?”

  “Where have you been?”

  The evening anchor, Jeff Baumgartner, raised his eyebrows but made no comment about her disheveled appearance.

  Ignoring the questions, she pointed at Tom Brogan, one of the station’s interns. “Where are we on the zoo piece?”

  “I’ve spliced together most of your report. Everything up until the walrus sneezed.”

  Kendall ignored the titters of laughter from around the room. “Tom, you saved me. I could kiss you.”

  His face brightened, but before he could reply, Kendall felt a tap on her shoulder.

  “There’s a penalty for missing the afternoon meeting,” a voice as sharp as rusted metal said quietly in her ear.

  Embarrassment and anger washed over Kendall as she thought of the reason for her late arrival. “I haven’t missed the meeting, and this is the first time I’ve been late in three years.” Kendall turned to Liz Blessen, KDPO’s news director. “I’m fine, Liz. Your concern means so much.”

  “I get anxious when my reporters aren’t here on time. Extra stress is bad for my high blood pressure.” Liz straightened the hem of her St. John jacket. “Ward Davis is on his way in. Tell me why I shouldn’t bump your story for his piece about the Highlands food festival.”

  “I’m not sure Ward’s wife would appreciate her husband starring in your new dating show.”

  Something flashed in Liz’s eyes that looked like guilt. “You saw the billboard?” she asked, her icy tone melting.

  “I saw it and immediately rear-ended a truck. That’s why I’m late.”

  The news director cringed.

  “You look great in the promo shots,” Jeff said. “Like a real hard-hitting journalist fending off those tiny men.” He chuckled at his own joke.

  Kendall felt color rise to her cheeks. Jeff’s reaction was one of the reasons she’d said no to It’s Raining Men in the first place. He wouldn’t be the only one to make fun of her for it.

  “Was anyone hurt?” one of the other reporters asked.

  “Luckily, it was a fender bender.” Kendall turned to Liz and her voice became as heated as her face. “I said no to the dating show. It’s Raining Men, Liz? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  The news director pretended not to notice Kendall’s temper and patted her arm. “We’re glad you’re safe. The walrus story stays, of course.” She smiled, as if tossing Kendall that small bone would make the tension between them disappear. “Let’s finish the meeting so everyone can get to work. Kendall, do you want to have a seat?”

  “No.” What she wanted was to stomp from the room or throw a fit and demand that Liz take her seriously. But demands and fits weren’t part of Kendall’s personality, and Liz knew it. Kendall loved the reporting part of her job but had never mastered cutthroat office politics or even the ability to advocate for herself.

  “Fine.” Liz stepped around Kendall to sit at the head of the conference table. “We’re set for tonight and have already gone through the programming schedule for most of the week. Kendall, I’ve got your write-up on the flooring company owner who hires ex-cons.”

  Kendall squared her shoulders. She might not be good at advocating for herself, but even without notes, she could pitch a story she believed in. “It’s more than hiring ex-cons,” she told the group. “Here’s a small business owner trying to make a difference in his community, to break that cycle of poverty and give unlikely employees a chance. He also invests in at-risk youth, offering scholarships—”
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  Jeff groaned. “Another tearjerker? What a surprise. You’re a downer, Kendall. Viewers want to be entertained, not made to feel guilty for how much they don’t do to make a difference.”

  “I’m giving people hope, Jeff. This man believes these kids and his employees deserve a shot at a different future.”

  “But it’s in a similar vein to most of the features you do,” one of the producers said, shuffling papers as she spoke.

  That comment hit close to home, but no one at the station knew Kendall’s motivation for the type of stories she reported. “Because there’s too much hope in the nightly news cast?” Kendall shot back. “The point of human interest stories is to evoke emotion in viewers.”

  “Tell her about the baked bake sale,” Jeff said with a laugh.

  The young producer smiled. “A group of college freshmen have set up a bake sale outside one of the marijuana dispensaries on Colfax. They’re raising money for a spring break trip to Cancun.”

  Jeff leaned forward in his chair. “They made five hundred bucks the first day. I wish pot had been legal when I was in school.”

  Kendall’s jaw started to ache from clamping it shut. She glanced at Liz, unable to believe the news director would pull her story for this piece of fluff.

  “The ex-con idea has merit,” the news director said after a moment. “It’s important to highlight people doing good work in the local community. I think it would be a great write-up for the station blog.” She reached for the notes the producer was holding about the bake sale. “We’ll go with the spring break piece for the broadcast, though. It’s timely and viewers will either be entertained or outraged. But they’ll be talking about it no matter what. We’re evoking emotion, Kendall.”

  Kendall’s mouth dropped open as Liz smiled at her.

  “Great choice,” Jeff said, standing and heading for the door. “Mind picking up a brownie for me while you’re down there, Ken?”

  Tom Brogan took a step toward Kendall. “Do you want to take a look at the zoo story?” he asked gently.

  She nodded, forcing a professional smile on her face. She’d had worse assignments than a pot bake sale and wasn’t going to push Liz. Yet. As awful as the dating promotion was, with the billboards for It’s Raining Men already up, Kendall realized she finally had some small amount of power at the station. The trick was figuring out the best way to use it.

  Two hours later, Kendall dropped into the chair that faced her computer in the newsroom office, massaging her fingers against her jaw. She’d smiled her way through the Live at Five! broadcast, feeling like a complete fool each time she looked into the camera and imagined exposing her dating life on-air.

  A knock sounded on the partially closed office door and Liz peeked her head around the corner. “Is it safe to enter or do you still want to kill me?”

  “I haven’t decided.”

  Liz smiled and stepped into the office. She perched one compact hip on the desk nearest the door and folded her arms across her chest. “It’s Raining Men won’t be that bad.”

  Kendall took a stack of papers off the printer next to her desk. “I’ve jumped through every hoop you’ve put in front of me for three years, but I want a legitimate career. You can’t make me into a reality television joke. This was supposed to be a charity auction—win a date with a local celebrity. Not a televised dating show.”

  “It is a charity event.”

  She pointed a finger at the news director. “Because I don’t date much? That’s low, Liz. Even for you.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.” She ran a hand through her crop of spiky blond hair. “I’m sorry, Kendall. Does that make it better? I’m sorry about the accident. I’m sorry we went ahead with the billboards. But we are raising money for charity. The two men chosen will have a thousand dollars donated to their favorite nonprofit. You’ll go on a second on-camera date with the guy the viewers like the best. His charity gets another five hundred dollars.”

  “The men are paid to date me? Even better.”

  “You’re looking at it wrong,” Liz said, straightening. “It’s two dates for a good cause. The publicity will be great for the station and for you. The promos started this morning and the response has been phenomenal.”

  Kendall’s stomach rolled and churned like she’d just gotten off the steepest rollercoaster at Elitch Gardens, the amusement park near downtown. “There are promo spots as well as the billboards? I did not say yes.”

  “Do you know how much money we’ve already spent on marketing? Now that the spots are running you can’t—”

  “No.” Kendall shook her head. “You won’t bully me into this unless . . .”

  Liz’s mouth thinned and it looked like a vein in her forehead might explode. “Unless what?” she snapped.

  “You give me the wildfire follow-up story.”

  Liz actually laughed. “You can’t be serious. That story has already been assigned to one of the senior reporters.”

  Kendall shrugged. “I want it, and I want Bob to call his contacts at WRKU in New York.” The station’s president, Bob Cunningham, had worked in New York City before taking over the Denver station. Kendall knew he still had friends on the East Coast. “There’s an opening at the weekend news desk. I’d be a good fit and will have a better chance with Bob’s recommendation.” She kept her voice steady, but inside she was a jumble of nerves.

  Liz didn’t reply for a few moments. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. “WRKU is the network’s flagship station.”

  “I know.”

  “You think you’re ready?” her boss asked with an arched eyebrow.

  The eyebrow was Liz’s trademark. She could communicate a dozen types of disdain with a few millimeters of movement. It had stopped Kendall from speaking up on more than one occasion. But not now. This was too important.

  “Absolutely,” she answered, almost surprised to find she meant it. “You know the publicity from It’s Raining Men will pull us way ahead during sweeps. Bob must be salivating at the prospect. If he gets the ratings, I get his support.”

  “And the wildfire story,” Liz added.

  Kendall nodded. Three summers ago, shortly after Kendall had arrived in Colorado, a wildfire devastated the foothills southwest of Denver, making the area a local and national news story. Hundreds of people had spent weeks evacuated from their homes when the fires swept into heavily populated neighborhoods. Dozens of families living in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains lost their homes and most of their possessions.

  Even miles away in Denver, a heavy coat of ash had hung over the south end of the city, turning the normally clear sky into a churning mass of smoke and debris.

  Viewers had watched scenes of destruction with horrified fascination. Kendall had been given the opportunity to interview a few of the families since all of the station’s manpower had been focused on the fires. She’d been touched by the stories she heard from people who lived in the area. The way the community had banded together to support families who lost their homes, as well as the firefighters and police officers working the scene, had made a big impact on her, especially since she’d never felt that kind of community connection growing up.

  Restoration of the area was well underway, and she wanted to be the one to tell the stories of people whose lives had been affected by the disaster.

  “I can’t believe you’re making demands,” Liz murmured. “I didn’t think you had it in you, Ken.”

  “I guess I wasn’t the only one shocked today.”

  Liz gave a reluctant smile. “If I agree, you’ll go forward with It’s Raining Men? The dates, the interviews, social media? Plus enthusiasm—at least on camera?

  Kendall pressed her fingers to her temples. She focused on the reaction of people back in her tiny hometown in Kansas if she was on the national news. She imagined the ladies who lunched at the count
ry club, where her father worked, seeing her on TV just like Diane Sawyer. That would cause a few mouths to drop. “The men will be decent, right?”

  “We’ll make sure of it.”

  “If you promise the wildfire story and New York, I’ll do it.”

  Liz held up her hand, her littlest finger wiggling. “Pinkie swear.”

  Kendall laughed. As juvenile as it seemed, Liz took her pinkie swears seriously. She crossed her little finger with Liz’s. Their relationship had been up and down over the years, but Kendall still felt a strange loyalty to the woman who’d given her a break in this top-25 market.

  From the time she was ten years old, Kendall had wanted to be a television news anchor. She watched the national newscasts the way other kids watched reruns of Scooby Doo. The women she saw on TV fascinated her, especially Diane Sawyer.

  Diane had been the epitome of female journalists to Kendall. She was a trailblazer, original and tenacious but always with a sophisticated elegance Kendall had longed to emulate. Growing up in small town on the outskirts of Kansas City, Kendall felt a connection to the woman who’d made it to the top of broadcasting all the way from rural Kentucky.

  What Kendall lacked in pedigree, she made up for in determination. When she was twelve, one of her teachers helped her become the first scholarship student at the elite Graves Academy in Kansas City.

  She’d been tingling with excitement the morning her mother had driven their battered Dodge Duster toward the affluent community that housed Graves. She knew a fancy education could open the right doors for her. But just as her mother pulled away from the curb, Kendall felt something hard hit her square in the back.

  “Pull the car around, sweetie,” a voice behind her taunted. Everyone knew her dad worked at the country club parking cars. Soft laughter followed, but when Kendall turned, cheeks burning, she’d only seen a set of keys lying at her feet.

  She’d never forgotten the shame she felt at that moment. Each morning after, Kendall had kissed her mother good-bye and exited the car three blocks away from the school. Her mom hadn’t mentioned the change or the fact that Kendall never brought home fliers about school activities. She kept her parents far away from Graves.