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|Stormy Pride (standard:romance, 31692 words)|
|Author: Dani||Added: Nov 28 2000||Views/Reads: 4129/3230||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Jake has no respect for women. Melanie is a loner. Both are fiery by nature and when they meet and clash, the sparks fly. How can each survive with someone they dislike?....and how can they live without? An epic short story.|
PROLOGUE Jake paced restlessly back and forth in the quiet corridor. He was here on important business. The American President was holding some big pow-wow, its agenda a mystery, with other world leaders and Jake Cannon, leading Australian newspaper journalist, was meant to be covering it. Mobile phone pressed against his ear, he ran a hand through his usually immaculate hair in frustration. "I'm sorry but it's just not possible." He said flatly, his voice low. "But sweetheart," The high pitched voice, at the other end of the phone, whined. "It's my mother's birthday. It'd be great to attend the party together." "I've got things to do. I'm covering some pretty important issues over here in Washington, Jessica. Anything could happen, I can't leave." He bit out impatiently. "You never have time, Jake." The whining voice was suddenly hard and cool but Jake barely noticed. He really had to get back inside the conference room before proceedings started. "I have to go. Goodnight, Jessica." He hung up abruptly and switched on the answering service. Quietly he slid through the doors into the conference room, resuming his place, immediately ready for business. He was one of the best journalists in the business so it was no wonder that he was able to sit in that chair and write about something he wasn't even listening to. The conference went on and on, voices droning, pens scribbling, tape recorders clicking, camera's flashing, cameramen running up and down the aisles of the conference room. Jake paid no attention, staring dead ahead, his hand moving almost on its own. He knew it was an important decision between nations, groundbreaking even. However, his hand knew more than he did. He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, once and then the answering machine. He knew it was Jessica and had a gut feeling he'd basically botched everything up. Funny thing was, he didn't feel bad about it. No guilt, no remorse niggled at him, eating at him. He sat there and did his work, and he did it well. Suddenly the meeting was over, the country leaders shook hands, as per usual, and exited the room amidst watchful bodyguards and a flurry of entourage. Jake, along with all the other journalists, stood automatically and filed out of the room. Jake sighed. He really needed to work on something new, something different. This was old hat now and his work was less than groundbreaking, his lack of enthusiasm shining through. Once in the corridor he found a safe corner, beside a window, behind a potted palm, and checked the answering machine on his mobile phone. The blue skies and sunshine streaming through the window did nothing to amend the sinking feeling in his stomach. Taking a deep breath he held the impossibly small, black phone to his ear and listened. "You have five messages." The mechanical voice told him. "Jake? I suggest you answer your phone." Jessica's voice rang clear over the fuzzy connection. Click. "Jake, damn it. Ring me." Her voice a little cooler and sharper this time. Click. "Jake?" Click. "Jake....please baby." Her voice was high strung and panicky, he could hear her voice wobbling with unrestrained tears. Click. "It's over. I'll take what's mine." Click. Jake shoved the phone back into his pocket, cursed and ran his hands through his hair. Yep, it was well and truly over and he could see it Click here to read the rest of this story (3751 more lines)
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