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forcing the image of his torn face from her mind.
    “ I didn’t tell. I didn’t tell anyone what happened.”
    “Must be nice to get paid for sleeping.".
    Startled, she jumped, nearly falling out of her chair. “I’m not sleeping, Josh, and even if I was, I deserve a little rest. I worked nearly all night.” Josh sat at his desk and turned on his computer. “I see that. You look like hell.” She snorted. “Thanks.”
    following his example, she turned on her own computer, deciding to check her email.
    He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. So, how did it go? Did he give you any hassles?” She browsed through her email, eyes never leaving the screen as she answered him. “No, not really. He took me to a cookout.” Josh’s brows rose to his hairline. “You’re kidding!”
    She shrugged as she deleted various spam messages. “It’s embarrassing really.” She turned her chair toward him and filled him in on the whole story.
    Josh laughed. “You have to admit he knows how to get to you.”
    “He does not,” she protested.
    “Are you serious? He got you to do what he wanted. I’ve been trying that for years. And if he’s calling you and trying to get you to come to his game, well, it’s obvious he likes you.”
    Closing out her email, she shut down her computer. Getting up, she grabbed her bag, her heart a mess. “No, Josh, he does not. He’s trying to clear his guilty conscience.”
    Josh wandered over to her side and perched on the corner of her desk. He placed a hand on her shoulder, a gentle smile on his face. “But you didn’t see him when he came looking for you after graduation.”
    “I was sort of busy, remember?”
    He squeezed her shoulder gently and ran his free hand through his short hair. “Of course I do. But still, he was a mess. I’ll never forget it.” She let out a bitter laugh as she brushed his hand off her shoulder. “Yeah, right. Brady Nolan is never a mess. And why the hell are you defending him?”
    “I’m not defending him. I know what he did. I just think maybe you should talk to him.” He held up a finger to stop her protest. “Before you get all defensive, I’m only suggesting this because I think maybe you need some closure.” She shrugged. “I’m going home. I don’t want to think about this anymore.”
    “You can’t avoid it forever, Taylor.”
    She just waved as she worked her way through the people filtering into the office. When she made it to Luther’s door, she rapped quickly on the glass before poking her head inside. “Hey, Lou Grant. I’m beat so I’m heading home.”
    “Not so fast. Get in here.”
    She stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. She shifted nervously from foot to foot, feeling as if she was about to face a firing squad.
    Looking up at her, he peeled his glasses off his face. He held two sheets of paper up in his free hand. “This is marvelous. I mean, better than newspaper reporting marvelous. You shouldn’t be reporting, you should be writing a book.” A furious blush warmed her cheeks. “Yeah well, I need the paycheck.”
    He sighed. “I know, kid.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his graying head. “Well, at least this gives me leverage when I start putting you on real stories.”
    Her face lit up as she dropped into a chair in front of his desk. “Really?”
    “Yep. Now get lost and get some sleep,” he told her, fighting to keep the embarrassment off his face. “You and Tia take my tickets tonight.
    Louisvil e is in town and it's going to be a good game.”
    He shuffled through a drawer on the left hand side of his desk until he produced a slim envelope. He handed it to her and sent her on her way.
    She shot out of his office, pausing only to smile at Josh, who was on the phone, as she grabbed the cell phone off her desk. At least the tickets weren’t the ones Brady had left for her. Luther’s tickets were down the first base line and ten rows back. Brady would never think to