Chasing Tomorrow Read online

  She paused and looked at Lisa. Why does everyone think I should quit my job?

  “Definitely. I love what I do, and I’m determined not to let this deter me from following my passion. I admit this made me stop and think, but, of course, I’m going back to work.”

  “You are so brave.” They stopped outside Arianna’s bedroom door. “I’m proud of you. By the way, I saw your broadcast. What a great story, but I have to say, you looked like hell.”

  Arianna shook her head and pursed her lips. “I wanted my story on the air no matter how I looked. But thanks for the compliment.” She gave her a slight shove. “Now, go on and find your husband. You two have some catching up to do.”

  Arianna entered her bedroom and looked around at the opulence of it all. So heavenly and serene. Just the perfect place to relax and recoup from the stress of her job. It was now late in the evening, and she decided a hot bath was in order. She wanted to relax and soak her aching body in a warm bubble bath, with the Jacuzzi’s jets massaging her all over.

  She poured herself a glass of wine and sank beneath the bubbles. Laying her head back, she sighed and felt her body totally relax for the first time in days. She had practically fallen asleep, when she felt someone touch her on the shoulder. She looked up and saw it was Zach sitting on the side of the tub.

  “Thought for a moment you’d passed out,” he said. “Are you all right?”

  She smiled and reached for him. “Very relaxed, babe. Want to join me?”

  He hesitated. “Are you sure because, I mean, to be honest, Arianna, I don’t think I can be naked around you without wanting more.” He took her hand in his. “After what you’ve been through, I don’t want to press you into anything. Just being honest.”

  She reached up and pulled him by the collar, sealing her to him with a kiss.

  It was all the invitation he needed. Stripping out of his clothes, he slipped into the bath and nestled behind her. The message to go slow flashed in his head, while other body parts seemed to be on the fast track.

  His hands slipped up and down her sleek body, kneading her breasts, sliding down her belly, coming to rest on that sweet spot between her legs. Not quite as relaxed as he usually was, he made a special effort to note any sign of discomfort or rejection. He had no first-hand knowledge of what victims of a sexual assault felt, but he knew he would stop should she show even the slightest sign of resistance or distress at being touched intimately.

  Her soft moans told him all systems were go however, as she slid back into him, enjoying what he was doing. Before long, she turned to face him, straddling him, and allowing him to slip inside her as he let out an audible groan and fought for control. Slowly he thrust in and out, her breasts bobbing teasingly in front of his face. Capturing one taunt nipple in his mouth, he suckled and nipped at it, as he moved in and out of her.

  She leaned in and kissed him, his tongue finding its way deep inside. Their breathing in sync, it was as if they couldn’t get enough of each other. His pace quickened as her breasts raked across his chest. He pressed her bottom tightly to him, and she moved up and down searching for her own release.

  It was a clear green light. She gave herself completely to him so he held back nothing. In only seconds, she pitched forward, wracked by waves of ecstasy with him following close behind.

  As they lay there holding each other in the warm soapy water, Zach asked, “Are you okay? I mean was this too much for you? Too soon?”

  She rolled her head from side to side. “I’ll never totally be free of the memories of the assault in Germany, but I choose to block it from my mind so it can’t destroy what we have. Believe me, this was wonderful. You always leave me satisfied, but wanting more.”

  Neither spoke for a moment, when Zach finally said, “You know I’m opposed to you going back to work. You don’t need to work. I’ll take care of you.”

  Arianna stepped out of the tub and grabbed a towel. “Tsk. Tsk,” she said, “and I always hate it when you go to wherever you go, but let’s not ruin tonight talking about this again. I’m in the mood for love.” She dropped the towel, turned and flashed him her best “come hither” smile, and sauntered into the bedroom. He left the bath and followed her.

  COSTA LUNA: CARIBBEAN ISLAND

  Are you doing okay?” Tony asked, as he and Zach sat alone eating breakfast. “You’re awfully quiet this morning.”

  Zach shrugged, not answering.

  “All right.” Tony put his fork down and shook his head. “We’ve been friends for years. I can read you like a book, so let me have it. What’s bugging you?”

  Zach dropped his fork in his plate and sighed. “I did something I thought I’d never do.”

  Tony furrowed his eyebrows, curious about what Zach had done. “What’s that?”

  “I killed Arianna’s job.”

  “What?”

  “Well, not killed it, but I talked to Veritas who made some calls. As a result, I’m pretty sure the most exciting thing she’ll be covering in the future is the Queen’s ninety- second birthday celebration at Buckingham Palace.”

  “Wow! I think I know why you did it, but she’s not going to like it.”

  “She’s not going to know what I did.”

  Tony didn’t say anything and continued to stare at him.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Zach finally said. “She’s been shot at, beaten, and nearly raped, and still has jihadi death threats hanging over her head. Only by a stroke of luck was I able to get her out of Afghanistan or she’d probably be dead today.” He pushed his chair back and raked his hand through his hair. “I don’t know, Tony. Seems like only a matter of time and her luck’s going to run out. I can’t stand by and let that happen.”

  Tony buttered a piece of toast and slathered some jelly on it. He took a bite and washed it down with a swig of coffee.

  “Aren’t you going to say something?” Zach asked. “Call me a prick, a cad, or something.”

  Tony dropped the toast on his plate and brushed some crumbs off his shirt. “We’re jaded. Because of our work, we’ve seen so much. Seen horrible, barbaric acts with our own eyes. I fully understand why you’d be scared shitless for Arianna, so I’m no one to judge you for doing what you did. Can’t say I wouldn’t do the same thing if our roles were reversed, but they’re not. Lisa’s safely at home, working as an interior designer. There’s no comparison to the situation Arianna puts herself in, so how can I judge what you did? I don’t judge you.”

  “Her producer, Steve Shine, was told, that if he values his job, he should only send her on the lowest of low risk assignments and that he’s to never reveal where these orders came from.”

  “Sounds simple enough,” Tony said, draining his coffee cup. “That should give you a lot of peace of mind.”

  Zach stood up and looked over at Tony. “Peace of mind? That’s interesting. Peace of mind that she’ll be safe…probably. Tormented by the fact she’ll never forgive me if she ever finds out…absolutely.”

  A knowing look passed between them.

  “Copy that,” Tony finally said, and stood up to leave. “But what’s done is done.” He slapped him on the back and started for the house. “Move on, buddy. Put this aside and just enjoy your time together.”

  ARIANNA CAME storming out to the tennis court where the men were engaged in a rousing game of doubles. She flounced down on a chaise lounge, folded her arms across her chest, and sat there with a grim look on her face.

  “Uh, oh,” Zach said, glancing over at her as she sat pouting courtside. They finished the game they were on and he said, “Take five, everyone. I need to see what this is all about.” He walked over to where Arianna sat sulking and asked, “Hey, babe, what’s wrong?”

  “Cannes Film Festival! The Cannes Film Festival, are you kidding me? What an insult.”

  Zach grabbed a bottle of Gatorade and sat down beside her. “I don’t get it. What about the Cannes Film Festival?”

  Arianna turned to face him. “Can y
ou believe it? Shine is sending our team to France to cover the Cannes Film Festival. That is so lame.”

  Zach finished one drink and reached for another. “Lots of celebrities. Maybe he figured you needed a break after your rough time in Germany.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what he said, but I’m not a Hollywood reporter. I’m a foreign correspondent. I need to be covering the real news, not what the next big movie is going to be or who’s the latest celebrity couple to break up.”

  “Did you tell him that?”

  Arianna shrugged. “Kind of, but he’s my boss, so what can I say really. I have to go where they send me, but I’m not happy. And there’s something odd about this assignment. Why would you send your foreign correspondent to cover some foo-foo event like this?”

  “Slow news cycle I’m guessing.”

  “Humph! Not. There are plenty of things happening in the news. I just don’t get it.”

  “So when do you leave? Not for a while I hope. I thought we might fly up to New York, catch few matches at the US Open, and take in some night life while we’re there. Are you up for that?”

  She helped herself to a drink from the cooler. “The festival isn’t until the end of the month, so I have time to get away, and New York sounds like fun, but…argh!” She tossed the bottle cap into the trash. “I’m so bummed out about this assignment. I need to be where the action is.” She took a long swig of her drink and looked over at Zach. “Maybe you could say something to get Shine to change his mind. Use your influence to get him to send me on better assignment.”

  Zach swallowed hard. “Uh, no. Not sure what influence you’re referring to because, no, I can’t tell the network where to send you. That’s their call.”

  “Well,” she said, blowing out an exasperated sigh, “I guess I’ll just have to cover this story for now and hope they send me on a more news-worthy assignment in the future.” She stared off in the distance, a dejected look written all over her.

  “Hey.” Zach pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. “It’ll be all right. Just go with the flow until a different assignment comes along. I’m sure better ones will come around in the future.”

  She slowly nodded. “I hope so.”

  And he stood there thinking, God, I’m such a liar.

  CANNES, FRANCE

  ARIANNA YAWNED and began checking the email on her phone, oblivious to the celebrities waltzing down the red carpet. Kevin snapped away with his camera while Raul stood off to the side, scanning the crowd as usual, ever vigilant, watching for potential danger.

  They’d arrived in Cannes three days ago and had gone to one press conference after the other, listening to directors and their casts endlessly promote their films. Every who’s who of Hollywood was in Cannes, looking for their big break.

  Kevin had taken enough pictures to paper Steve Shine’s office many times over. They’d even gotten some canned interviews from a few aspiring actors and actresses, but nothing newsworthy for sure. Rumors flew right and left concerning what film was going to be the big hit of the festival, so like a flock of locusts, the reporters swooped in on those filmmakers, hoping for a scoop.

  Looking back at Arianna on the phone, Kevin said, “You’re missing all the action here on the red carpet. Don’t you want to try to interview some of these celebrities?”

  Arianna dropped her phone back in her bag and walked up to the rope line where Kevin was taping. “No, I think I have the hot story of the day. There’s nothing else to see.”

  “Really,” Kevin said with a sly smile. “And what hot story would that be?”

  “Well, it’s hard to say because there’s been so many. First, we have the one about Victoria Beckam where it seems the ink on her wrist tattoo has almost vanished…same for the one on her back. Misbegotten acts of her youth, we’re now happy to report, these tattoos are slowly fading. Everyone is talking about that hot news.”

  “You don’t say?” Kevin asked with a wink while he changed the battery in his camera.

  “That’s right. Also, there is the other hot news about the bad hair extensions she was sporting. Gone is her usual short bob hairstyle, replaced by long, flowing tresses of fake hair. Now, that’s what I call titillating.”

  Kevin gave her a shove. “You’re so funny. I love how you’re pouring your heart and soul into this assignment.”

  “Oh, brother, don’t get me started. This is a crap assignment.”

  “Agreed, but we still need to come up with a story worth covering, little sis, so I suggest you put your little pouty face away and start digging for some real news.”

  “Me? You hate this gig as much as I do so what are you talking about?”

  “Oh, not quite as much as you. The view hasn’t been all that bad.” He snapped a picture of a young ingénue wearing a dress with a deep plunging neckline with her tatas about to fall out. “Mmm! Mmm! Now, that’s what I call titillating.”

  “Ha. Ha.” She returned his shove almost knocking his camera out of his hand. “Very funny. Let’s move to the front of the line and see if we can catch any of these guys when they first arrive. This is Hollywood. There’s got to be a juicy scandal here somewhere that I can report on.”

  Kevin packed up his equipment, and they ducked under the rope and headed over to the entrance. A security guard stepped in front of them, momentarily blocking their way, but when they flashed their press credentials, they were allowed to proceed.

  “Over there,” Arianna said, pointing toward a large gathering of people. “Some big mucky muck must have arrived. Let’s go see what’s going on. Maybe I can get a pithy sound bite from one of these movie moguls.”

  They had only taken a few steps when an explosion blew them off their feet. Raul did his best to cover Arianna as debris rained down on them. Seconds later, he hauled her to her feet, and they took off running as the panicked crowd rushed away from the blast.

  “Are you okay?” he asked when they stopped far from the source of the explosion.

  She dusted herself off and panted for breath. “Okay. I’m okay. Just a little roughed up.” She glanced down at her arms and legs. “A few minor nicks and cuts, but nothing major. Where’s Kevin?”

  “Back there.” Raul pointed back toward the explosion. “He’s somewhere in that throng of people, running for safety” Suddenly he spotted Kevin working his way toward them. “Kevin! Over here,” he yelled.

  Kevin pushed his way over to where Arianna and Raul stood. “Are you guys all right?” He coughed and wheezed, out of breath and overcome with smoke. “What the hell happened?”

  “It looked like a car blew up,” Raul said. “Possibly a suicide bomber.”

  Sirens screamed in the distance, and thick, acrid smoke hung in the air. Everywhere, people were moving like zombies, stunned by the concussion of the bomb. Back by the street, bodies lay strewn about.

  “Holy shit!” Arianna said. “This is bad.”

  Kevin dropped his bag and retrieved his camera. As he began filming the pandemonium around him, he said, “Very bad, but it looks like you’ve got your hot news story after all.”

  CANNES, FRANCE

  Arianna, Kevin, and Raul stood watching the aftermath of the explosion from a distance. First responders attended to the victims on the ground, while other injured were loaded into ambulances for transport to the local hospital.

  “We need to get to work and cover this story.” Arianna approached a policeman working the scene and flashed her press credentials. “Arianna Garrett with CNS news, USA. Can you tell me what happened here tonight?”

  “Someone blew up a truck full of explosives.”

  “Suicide bomber?”

  “No suicide. Remote detonation. A man parked the truck and ran from the scene.”

  Crowds of gawkers gathered in the area and tried to cross the police line. “Move back,” the officer yelled, blocking their entrance. “Only police and first responders are allowed in here.”

  “My fiancé,” a young girl cried.
“I think he’s over there.”

  “I’m sorry, mademoiselle, but no one is allowed beyond the yellow tape. Go to the hospital. They’ll have a list of the injured.”

  “Officer,” Arianna yelled when the policeman started to walk away. “Officer, do you know the bomber’s name? Any description?”

  The policeman kept walking, not answering her questions.

  “Shoot,” Arianna said, frustrated at her inability to get answers. “We need to move around to the other side in order to see if we can get more info over there.”

  The trio made a wide birth around the crowd and arrived closer to the entrance of the red carpet. More first responders were scurrying about, and the French version of a SWAT team had stationed themselves in and around the area.

  “Look,” Arianna said to Kevin. “Get a shot of this.” Right in front of them was the charred, mangled frame of a cargo truck, its rubber tires still burning.

  Arianna saw another officer standing nearby. She flagged him down and flashed her press pass. “Officer, what can you tell me about what happened here tonight? Do you have a suspect?”

  “Morte. The man who set off this bomb is dead. We are searching for a possible accomplice.”

  “Do you have a name?”

  “Over there,” he said, pointing to a French officer. “Talk to her. She is our media liaison.”

  Arianna joined a handful of other reporters gathered around the information officer, who spoke in French as another person interpreted.

  “Here’s what we know so far. The perpetrator’s name is Malik Shahab, now deceased. We are looking into any connection he had with known terrorist groups. He drove the truck to the scene, exited the vehicle, and detonated the bomb with his phone. He was spotted running away by a security agent and taken down.”

  “How many casualties?” someone in the crowd yelled.

  “Seven dead so far. About a dozen injured.”