Hide Yourself Away Read Free

of here, I’m going to miss my train to Rhode Island.”
    “That’s what I’m here for,” she replied, taking the paper from him. She didn’t relish the grunt work part especially, but sheknew that trust was established bit by bit. Do the small things well now and they would trust you with the bigger things later.
    “You’re coming up tomorrow, right, Grace?”
    “Yes.”
    “Can I ask you to do me another favor?” B.J. didn’t wait for her answer. He was holding out a sheet of yellow lined paper. “Put together a short research package on scrimshaw and tattoos. We are doing a segment with a scrimshander and, perhaps, a tattoo artist, and we’ll need to have some questions for Constance to ask during the interviews. Don’t go overboard,” he continued. “Just enough to cover the bases, and fax me what you come up with. The fax number at our newsroom at the Viking is on the paper.”
    “No problem,” answered Grace as she took the information from him and noticed his strong, tanned hands.
    “Thanks, Grace. Thanks a lot.” He flashed a smile revealing white, even teeth and leaned closer. “I’ll let you in on a secret. This is my first remote as a producer, and I’m a little nervous.”
    “Really? I thought you were an old hand at this.”
    “Nope. I’ve been a cameraman and editor here for six years, and at local television stations for years before that. But just a few months ago they made me a producer as well. That’s the wave of the present, you know. Hyphenates. You gotta do two or three jobs for the price of one if you want to stick around a place like this.”
    Grace was a bit envious. She figured B.J. to be about her age, maybe a couple of years older, and yet here he was, well establishedin his career. She wondered if he was married and had a wife who stayed home with his child while he was carving out his place in the world. Somehow, she thought not. Not only because there was no ring, but because she just had the indefinable sense that he was available. You never knew, though. There were guys who acted unattached when out in the workforce, when in reality they had families depending on them. Frank was one of those guys. Watching B.J.’s lanky frame as he walked back to his desk, Grace found herself hoping that he was not like her former husband.
    As she turned to execute her task, punching in the numbers on the fax machine phone pad, the intern with the miniskirt walked over.
    “At least he gave you something to do,” the dark-haired beauty whispered. “I’m going out of my mind with boredom. If I spend one more minute surfing the web, I’ll slit my wrists. They don’t have enough for us to do.”
    Grace smiled as she listened for the electronic beep signaling the fax was going through. Jocelyn Vickers was right. The interns did have a lot of free time on their hands.
    “It should be better when we get to Newport, don’t you think?” she offered. “There should be plenty of things they’ll need us for. At the very least, we get to spend a week in a beautiful place in the summertime.”
    Jocelyn shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”
    “I’ve never been to Newport before, have you?” Grace asked, wanting to extend their talk if she could. The younger internshadn’t exactly been seeking her out for conversation. They didn’t seem quite able to make out what to think of her. Grace, the old lady. What could they possibly have in common with a divorced mom?
    “Just about every summer of my life.” Jocelyn sighed. “My parents have a house there.”
    “Really? That sounds great.” As Grace took the transmitted Newport schedule out of the fax machine tray, she glanced downward and caught a glimpse of the familiar beige, black, and maroon plaid peeking from beneath Jocelyn’s perfectly manicured toes. Burberry. Over a hundred bucks for a pair of plastic strapped sandals. It must be nice. Grace was suddenly aware that her own shoes, the black pumps she had purchased on further