Chapter 4 – Where are they now?
About 200 miles away, another young man lay in his bed next to an attractive girl thinking to himself "Life is good." He stroked her shoulder as she slept peacefully next to him, exhausted from his lovemaking. Gently sweeping the dark brown hair away from her forehead, Nick Braddon looked at Jackie with a wry smile. Who would have thought?
Who would have thought from their rocky beginning that Jackie would become his perfect partner, both professionally and in other areas? He thought back to her early efforts to win his approval – everything from low cut blouses to bringing him his favourite cream cheese bagel. His response had been to treat her like a mindless doll and make lewd insinuations which would lead to her temper flaring up. He chuckled at the memory – she was so hot when she was mad he just couldn't resist provoking her. One thing about Jackie, she was a quick learner. She soon found the ticket to his respect was to become damn good at her job. He remembered the day she had let him know she wasn't going to put up with any more crap from him.
"Braddon, when are you going to realise that until you get your head out of your ass and start teaching me how to be the best reporter in Chicago, you're only screwing yourself over?"
"How do you figure that, princess?" Nick had said as he packed away his camera at the end of a broadcast from the Illinois China Doll Expo.
Jackie grabbed his arm and turned him so he was looking into her eyes. "Just give me a chance, Nick," she said levelly. "Give me a chance and we'll be the best news team this city ever saw. Keep fighting me and you hurt your reputation as much as mine – you know my work reflects on yours."
"You just don't get it." Nick shook himself out of her grip. "How the hell can we put out anything good with the kind of shit we have to work with?"
Jackie had never thought of their stories as shit. Whenever she had watched the news, the fluff pieces were her favourite parts. "Well, what kind of story isn't…er… shit?"
"Hard news, baby. Political upheaval, crime bosses being prosecuted, fat cat corporations getting busted – stories that affect real people, real history. The kind of stories I was doing before I got busted down to fluff detail."
"It's not my fault you're doing these kind of stories, Nick." Jackie thought for a moment and then came to a decision. "Okay, here's the deal. You help me get what I want and I'll help you get what you want."
"What are you talking about?"
"You teach me all you know about reporting and I'll report the kind of stories you do best."
"Jackie, you know we have to do the stories we're assigned to," Nick answered in exasperation.
"Have to? I'm sorry, I thought you were the same Nick Braddon who shoved a camera in the Police Commissioner's face at his daughter's birthday party and hassled him about his Mafia connections. It must have been some other Nick Braddon."
"Yeah, I've broken rules, stolen stories – and look where it's got me."
"Nick, Nick, Nick" Jackie shook her head in amazement. "How ever did you get along before I came into your life? You're in the doghouse not because you broke rules but because you did it without finesse."
"Finesse? What the hell are you talking about."
Jackie gestured across the street towards Trellini's Restaurant. "Follow me, grasshopper and learn from the Master."
Mentally berating himself for obeying the tiny tyrant, he followed Jackie who managed to cross the street with a wiggling walk that distracted every red-blooded male on its receiving end, while at the same time tying the points of her shirt into a knot under her breasts.
"Why, Joel Hammond, is that you?" she cooed over a dapper middle aged man spooning pasta into his mouth. "Now don't tell me you've forgotten me? Jackie Burkhart? We met at the Richardson party last week."
"Why Jackie, of course, how could I forget such a gorgeous creature? I remember, we had a most engaging conversation regarding hair wands verses dryers. Will you be able to get away to New York for the spring collection? Walter and I are booked into the Hilton next week."
"Oh, where are my manners? Joel Hammond, meet my colleague Nick Braddon. Nick, this is Joel, Chicago's greatest authority on fashion and gossip. He is owner and head stylist at our city's leading salon."
"Hi," Nick said, uncomfortable with the way Joel was eyeing him like a cream cake he would very much like to bite into.
"Yes, Joel has the most prestigious clientele at his salon – the wife of every important politician, power broker and don trusts their hair to his genius. Joel, you must hear the most interesting things in your salon."
"Oh, Jackie, yes, the stories I could tell! But I really shouldn't."
However, whether it was the subtle refilling of his wine glass, Jackie's adoring attention or the way her shirt was tied (yes, he was gay but he could still appreciate), over the next two hours Joel told Nick and Jackie all kinds of things that he really shouldn't have. Nick sorted the information with rising excitement, discarding some tidbit as gossip and filing another away for future investigation. He could not help admiring the way Jackie skilfully charmed the information from the stylist.
"Not bad, Slick," he complimented her as he walked her home that night, an arm around her waist to steady her (Joel was not alone in sampling the wine). When they reached her apartment building's stoop he turned her around into his arms. "There may be hope for you yet," he decreed, favouring her with his devastating smile.
"Hey, don't go getting any ideas, Braddon," Jackie said while still propping herself up against him on shaky legs. "You and I are just business."
"Oh really?" Nick was amused. "Foolish girl, do you really think you can resist my charms?"
"I'm not sure. Let me see." With that, she took a step up so their faces were level, took his cheeks between her hands and kissed him slowly and thoroughly. Just as he was really getting into it and about to lock her body against his, she pulled away with a saucy smile and said, "Yep. Shouldn't be a problem." Then with her cocky wiggle walk she left him dumbfounded and aroused on her stoop.
From that day, a new partnership was formed. Nick taught Jackie how to research facts, substantiate stories and the rules of journalism which were his most sacred creed. He taught her how to look through the camera into the eyes and hearts of their viewers and tell them a story rather than read them the news. She in turn stood by him when they started turning in stories which could by no stretch of the imagination be regarded as fluff pieces and when Joe Talon himself had called them into his office to answer for their actions, she somehow managed to charm the gruff old media magnate into giving them more freedom in their subject matter. Between her finesse and his journalistic experience, they were fast becoming CRN's greatest asset.
The best part of the journey to Nick's mind was the sexual excitement between them. Both of them were born flirts and had a connoisseur's admiration for the other's gifts. It started with a smouldering look during a story pitching session, a little sexual innuendo in their banter, the way she would accidentally brush her breast against his arm as she passed him in a corridor. His attention well caught, Nick pursued in earnest, stealing kisses from Jackie when she least expected it, running his hand down her back when standing behind her on location. For some reason, Jackie was hesitant to cross the flirting line, even after he made it clear he was seriously interested in her. Then came Nick's lucky break – a contact of his leaked information about a sweat shop being run down by the river. It was the most important story they had done together, an exclusive for the network, and the thrill of chasing and then breaking the story had finally swept away whatever had been holding Jackie back. The cab drive back from the sweat shop had been a tangle of limbs, lips devouring each other's flesh, desperate hands trying to stroke, fondle and caress every part of each other they could. He didn't know what note he gave the driver – from the way he sped off it was probably a fifty – but it was worth it as he and Jackie worked off three months of a sexual tension that had begun from the first moment he laid eyes on her.
"Hey, you" he heard her soft voice next to him. "Can't sleep?"
"I've got the rest of my life to sleep," Nick replied. "But there's only one night in history that will be the first night you finally gave in and admitted you're crazy about me. About time, Burkhart."
"Don't get a big head, Braddon. I just couldn't stand the way your puppy dog eyes were following me around everywhere. You know what a soft heart I have."
"That's not the only soft part of you," Nick retorted as his hands explored Jackie, causing giggles, hand slaps and then gasping moans. Just before Jackie drifted off to sleep after their encore performance, she murmured "Wait until Sharon finds out. She's definitely going to be all 'I told you so'."
"Yeah," Nick said distractedly. The mention of his lifelong best friend's reaction to their liason for some reason killed his mood slightly. He guessed it was because she was like a sister to him.
Sharon and Nick had grown up together in a small Illinois town west of Chicago, living three houses down from each other since he was 5 and she was 4. Ever since kindergarten they had been there for each other – he was her chief tormenter and staunchest defender, she was his personal cheerleader and greatest critic. They had grown up discovering the world together – any new experience was incomplete if it wasn't shared with the other. It was only natural, in a way, that when they became teenagers they would explore love and sex together. Four months after they declared their love, their relationship had ended in jealousy and heartbreak that took a year to recover from. Both had come so near to losing the most important person in their life that they vowed never again to try to be more than friends. Our friendship is the most solid relationship in my life, Nick thought with a fond smile. Jackie didn't know it, but that day 6 weeks ago he had introduced her to Sharon he had put his seal of approval on their relationship, vague as it was back then. He had been nervous about how Sharon would take to Jackie, but to his relief they hit it off from the start. Since then, when he went down to the corner coffee shop to meet Sharon for their daily catch-up, Jackie would be with him. When a new jazz club opened or a favourite comedian was in town, the three of them would form a tight knit group.
Yeah, Sharon is definitely going to rub it in, Nick thought ruefully. She had never bought their protests that they were just workmates, back in the day when they were refusing to admit their attraction. He remembered the dance club they had gone to last Saturday night, how she had teased Jackie to admit that it was the slow dancing with Nick and not the heat that had her blushing. Jackie had turned the tables on her; "Enough with this constant probing into my love life! When are we going to meet this mystery man of yours? I'm starting to wonder if he's real."
"Well said," Nick concurred. "You say he is rich, powerful and would make Robert Redford look homely but can't give us a name? Something's wrong with that equation, Shar."
"Lay off," she had laughed, shaking back her long dark hair. "I told you, he's just trying to keep a low profile at the moment and doesn't want his name appearing in any gossip columns, which they definitely would if he was seen with Sharon Wilder, the most striking young talent in Chicago theatre."
"That doesn't explain why you can't tell us – we don't write for gossip columns. Sure, Jackie lives and breathes them but we don't contribute." He rubbed his arm where Jackie had frogged it.
"You are the last person I would tell, Nick," Sharon said. "When we were kids you made fun of every guy I ever dated. Now we're adults you're even worse – like that security check you ran on Dan, or the way you shook Peter down for no good reason."
"You know I'm just looking out for you. Dan had a prison tatt and I caught Peter speaking gang slang. Plus I know you're track record – if there's one maladjusted psycho in a room of good guys, you'd make a bee line for him every time."
Sharon had responded by throwing peanuts at him until Jackie had laughingly broken up the fight by pulling Nick back onto the dance floor. Good times, Nick thought as sleep finally claimed him.