Page 33 of Loving Jake

Luke gave Tom a silencing look and then returned his attention to Jake. “Jake, we’ve got the Jeep parked right outside the front doors. We’ve got to get out of here now?—"

“I can’t. I’ve got to charge my phone because I need to make?—"

“Jake, we need you to go live today in front of the cameras. We’re running out of time.”

“What about you, Luke? Can’t you do the story?” Jake questioned the other journalist before he glanced at his watch.

“No way, Jake. You know I’m a print guy only. I’m no good in front of the camera. You have to do this. We’ve got nobody else with Stevens out of commission.”

Jake ran his hand over his face, and he brushed against the dense edges of stubble growing on his unshaven jawbone. He needed to get back on a plane to San Francisco, but his sense of duty nagged at him. He had worked damn hard as a journalist. He knew what a story like this would mean if they could get it on the air. He had spent over two years in South America before going to the Middle East, fighting to bring to the attention of the American public the thousands of innocent people who suffered because of the wars between the rebel guerillas and the government.

He wanted to walk away from the problems of South America and go home, home to Kimberly, to begin a life together. But he couldn’t. Not yet. He would wait until Stevens was back on his feet, and then Jake would be on the next plane back to California. “Okay, let’s go.” He held up his hand. “But I need to make a call first,” he told them, and each of the four other men stopped in their tracks. “Can I borrow someone’s cell?”

“Take mine.” Tom reached into his vest pocket for his cell. He pulled it out and handed it over to Jake.

Jake gratefully took the cell from him, eager to callKimberly. “Why don’t I meet you guys out in the Jeep… I’ll only be a minute.” He looked expectantly at each of them. The group grumbled, but agreed to meet him outside.

“Think he’s calling a woman?” Jake heard one of them ask as they walked away. He was pretty sure Luke was the one to reply. “No way, he’s a journalist, remember? What woman would want a man who loves the thrill of a breaking story more than a soft body curled up beside him?”

“None that we know,” the deep voice of one the cameramen joked and sent the rest of the group into a roar of laughter.

Jake punched the first few digits of Kimberly’s phone number into the cell and paused. Luke, Tom, all of them, were wrong. He had changed. From now on, he listened to his heart, instead of his head. Kimberly came first in his life, starting... starting as soon as Stevens was well enough to take over again. Damn, he wasn’t off to a great start, but he would get there. He knew he would. Jake entered the last of Kimberly’s cell number into the phone with a renewed sense of determination. His heart beat rapidly in his chest when he heard the line connect, and Kimberly’s phone rang on the other end. The connection was marginal at best, the static vibrated in his ear.

“Hi—"

“Kimberly, it’s Jake.”

“…I’m not able to come to the phone right now; Please leave a message at the tone with your name and number, and I will try to get back to you.”BEEP.

Damn, voicemail. He hated leaving messages on voicemail. He never knew what to say and always ended up tongue-tied because of it. “Ah, yeah, hi Kimberly. This is Jake. I’ve just arrived in Lima, Peru. My plane was delayed because of some severe weather in the area,” God, he made no sense. “Anyway, I guess you’re busy. I’ll try you tomorrow. Take care.” He pushed the end button on the cellphone and temporarily placed it in hisjacket pocket. “My plane was delayed because of some severe weather in the area?” he repeated out loud. “Of all the stupid things to say.” He berated himself over and over again as he exited the airport. By the time he reached the Jeep, he was in a rotten mood and eager to get his report over so he could get out of Peru.

Jake unlockedthe door of his hotel room with a tired sigh. He threw his bag on a nearby chair and sat down on the bed. He was exhausted, bone-tired. For three long days and three longer nights, he and his team had interviewed everyone from a Catholic nun to a homeless teen about the recent killings of the priests outside of Lima. Despite the poverty and political unrest, the Peruvians maintained a rigid faith in God. The majority of them were Roman Catholics. The death of the three priests weighed heavily on their souls and minds. People were scared. The President tried his best to maintain peace among his people, but Jake was afraid it wasn’t enough. All hell was about to break loose in Peru. He could feel it in his blood.

Now back at the hotel, the reporters and camera crew had only to complete the wrap-up of their last segment, and they then could call it a night. Jake decided he would call Kimberly and then rejoin his team to film the final wrap-up, so he could return to his room to take a shower and then sleep for a good eight hours. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the phone from its resting place. Despite his best efforts to make it happen, his cell would no longer charge. He planned to replace his cell when he was back in the States, but for now, the hotel phone would have to do. He picked up the receiver, requested an outside line from the hotel operator, and then dialed her number. Hopefully, this time, she would answer.

Once again, as in the airport, the sound of the call rang in his ear, and it caused his heart pound in his chest. For the past six months, he hadn’t allowed himself to think about how much he missed her, how much he needed to be with her. While in Saudi Arabia, he had never once allowed himself any fantasies about Kimberly, at least not consciously. The nights were a different story. But now, now his hope was renewed.

Jake bristled as he listened to the call go directly into voicemail. Again, a recording repeated, “I’m not able to come to the phone right now, please—" He disconnected the call without leaving a message.

For the third time today, his call went directly into voicemail. Was there something wrong with her cell? Had she forgotten to charge it as she had at least a dozen times in the weeks he had spent with her?

Damn, he needed to talk to her. Her family must keep in contact with her, he decided determinedly. They would know whether there was something wrong with her phone, or not, or could at least get a message to her that he needed to speak to her and to plug in her phone. The only problem was that he didn’t know any of the Urbane’s phone numbers by memory. The only numbers he had memorized were his editor’s, Kimberly’s, and Zane’s. Why not? He reached over and picked up the phone receiver.

Zane answered on the third ring. “Speak to me.”

“How about trying hello once in a while, Zane? Maybe people wouldn’t hang up on you so often.”

“Very funny, Jake,” came his reply, and then he laughed into the receiver. “You know women never hang up on me, and who cares about the men.”

Jake chuckled in response. His brother may be laughing, but he spoke the truth. Zane Taylor attracted women like bees to honey. Jake wouldn’t be surprised if Zane entertained someleggy blonde right now, which reminded him to get to the point of his conversation before his brother hung up on him. “Zane, I need a favor. I need you to reach out to Carly and ask her to contact Kimberly. I’ve tried Kimberly several times, and her cell keeps going directly into voicemail.”

“You want to speak to Kimberly? What for?” Zane asked, not bothering to disguise his surprise. Jake had provided him with a minimal amount of details when Jake had returned home to deal with the passing of their grandfather. Whether Zane had been shocked to hear that Jake had been staying with Kimberly for several weeks, Zane didn’t say. He wasn’t much on relationships and typically avoided providing advice on the subject. As a result, Jake hadn’t bothered sharing the details with him, good or bad.

“The sweet Peruvian senoritas not treating you well? They do have some beautiful women there, don’t they Jake? Did I ever tell you about the time I was in Brazil during a break in my residency, and I got caught in a rain storm with this woman, Marcella, I think her name was. Anyway, you want to talk about?—"

“Zane!” He had no doubt that Zane had a story that involved him and some woman in every country in the world. There wasn’t a continent the younger Taylor had left unscathed. He was a notorious playboy with the looks and charisma that allowed him to be just that. Normally, Jake would listen if only with half of an ear, but now was not one of those times.

“Zane, I did not call you from Peru to discuss your worldwide conquests. I need you to contact Carly.”

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