Minding Amy

Chapter One

Amy Norton pushed her coffee cup to one side and clicked on the email that had just arrived from Roger Green, a TV producer who was helping her out with a possible news scoop.

I've attached three editions of the Ghost Hunter show in MP4 format, for your perusal.

I'll be in touch with you soon. Yours, Roger.

Amy smiled as she read over the message. Roger Green had been most helpful. In fact it had gone a bit further than that—they'd been flirting wildly over the phone, and every exchange had left her in a breathless state of arousal. She clicked on the attached files. Each one was numbered with a code and the date of an episode of the popular live TV series "Ghost Hunter." On the cover image the enigmatic presenter of the show, Quentin Edwards, waved from a set featuring a ghoulish walled castle shrouded in an eerie twilight mist. Quentin Edwards was the man she was hoping to write a feature on.

It wasn't the sort of story that Amy, a journalist on the London weekly, The City News, covered. She’d been working on the Women's Page for over three years, and when the popular TV show host went missing it caught her attention. She'd been having itchy feet for some time. What better way to cure the restless feeling than covering a story outside of her usual line? While her proposal for the feature circulated upstairs on the senior editors’ desks, she was doing some hasty background research.

Amy was about to launch the first file when the phone rang. She glanced across the office to Janine, her senior, to see if she was going to pick up the call. Janine threw aside her magazine and reached for the phone. She rested back into her chair and flicked back her blonde-flashed hair.

"Hello, Women's Page, Janine Fairfax speaking." Janine grinned across at Amy, nodding her head and waving her hand.

"Yes, of course, Roger. Amy's here and I know she would love to speak to you. I'll transfer you now." She put her hand over the phone. "He wants to check if you received an email from him." Janine rolled her eyes.

Amy smiled. Her phone conversations with the TV producer, Roger Green, had brought no end of speculation over the last twenty-four hours. Aside from the fact he was sourcing information on her proposed Quentin Edwards' feature, Roger had also been flirting outrageously with her. Janine was thoroughly convinced Amy was "in there" with the TV producer and was urging her along with enthusiasm, while Amy had become quite reckless in her verbal encounters with the faceless man at the other end of the phone.

"Roger, hello." She tried not to appear too eager.

"Amy, it's good to hear the sound of your voice again."

She laughed softly. It had only been an hour since they last spoke. Arousal rolled through her. His voice was pure sex. There was a distinctive, intimate tone to it, tempered by a strong northern accent that gave it an earthy quality. An ache sprang from the pit of her belly, reminding her she was a woman and she had needs. She'd been trying to ignore that fact for the sake of her career. There hadn't been room for a man in Amy's life for quite some time.

"Likewise," she replied.

"Glad to hear it. So, did the files open up for you?"

She crossed her legs, squeezing her thighs together. With a voice like that he could charm the most devout celibate. It made her think dirty thoughts—it made her want him to whisper to her while he made love to her. An image assailed her—an image of herself face down on a bed, clawing at the sheets while he talked dirty and took her from behind.

"Yes, they arrived, thank you." She swallowed hard, trying to rid herself of the sexy image, but it wouldn't go away. "I can't express how much I appreciate your help," she rushed on. "I'm hoping I'll be able to approach this story with an investigative slant. I've put a proposal in to the senior editor on investigative features and should be able to confirm tomorrow. I'll be checking out the shows you sent this afternoon."

"Those lucky shows. I'd sure love you to check me out." He gave a distinctly filthy groan.

Amy purred aloud. She couldn't help responding.

"Look, Amy…" He lowered his voice until it was conspiratorial, and when he said her name it felt like a caress, sending tingles down her spine. "How about we get together for a drink?"

Her pulse rate increased, anticipation building rapidly. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Yes."

Score. "In that case, I'd love to."

Across the room, Janine did something that looked like a Mexican wave, rising from her seat and waving her arms. Amy mouthed "stop it" at her, but smiled. Janine loved to sit behind her desk surrounded by women's lifestyle magazines, signaling across the office vigorously while she tried to motivate her colleague into a potential relationship. That's because Janine was a deluded sweetie who always believed the next tall dark stranger around the corner was "The One," but Amy tried to be a bit more circumspect about such things.

She had to admit she was tempted by his suggestive voice. Maybe it was time to break out and have some fun. A fling, nothing heavy. She could definitely do with some bedroom action. She suppressed another smile when Janine gave her the thumbs-up and a wink.

"Great news," Roger replied. "Why don't we meet up this evening?"

"Let me check my diary." She leaned back in her chair, swiveled it from side to side and tried to count to ten. Stay cool, she reminded herself. Three, Four. Impetuosity was one of her more hazardous characteristics, her wardrobe attested to it—half the clothes she bought were entirely unsuitable for her. Her father often told her she was impetuous and hotheaded. He didn't mean either as a compliment. It was a difficult thing to shake, though, and she often found herself landed in trouble because of it. Janine was craning her neck, trying to catch any details that might escape across the ether. Five, six, seven. "Nothing I can't rearrange. Let's do it."

"Excellent. We'll have a drink and a chat. No strings attached."

There was no doubting he meant that to sound provocative, especially with those sexual overtones in his voice. For Amy, it unleashed a sense of freedom. Her mind began to wander. She pictured herself sliding into the arms of a gorgeous hunk who breathed husky suggestions in her ear while fondling her.

"Six o'clock?" he added.

"Six o'clock," she repeated. "I look forward to it."

They agreed on a meeting place and when she put the phone down Janine leapt to her feet.

"Well? Did I hear right?" Janine demanded.

"You did, now don't make me nervous. Besides, I've got to look these shows over." She clicked the play button.

Janine crossed her

arms over her chest, looking disappointed. "I'll want the complete low-down tomorrow."

"Deal."

Janine still didn't look pacified. "I know," she declared. "I'll pop out and get you a shot of Dutch courage to have before you go. How's that?"

Amy shook her head. It was Janine's way of getting her to talk, but at least it would give her time to focus on the job in hand while she was out. "Okay then, you win."

Janine grabbed her bag and set off.

While she was gone Amy whizzed through the introduction sequence of Ghost Hunter, pausing each time the show's host came on screen. This is what she was after. It was why she'd got in touch with Roger in the first place. Quentin Edwards—a man loved by his audiences and his co-workers alike. Amy had never watched the show herself, it wasn't her sort of thing, but she'd talked to two admin people at the studios as well as Roger, all of whom spoke highly of Quentin. He certainly appeared to be a loveable rogue, and his disappearance had stirred up a lot of public concern.

Anticipation buoyed inside her at the prospect of working on such a high profile feature. Making the decision to tout for the job had been a big thing in itself. For a start it meant going to the senior editor on investigative work, and the senior editor was her dad. Normally they kept their distance from one another in the workplace. A few colleagues believed Richard Norton had helped his daughter to get a foot up on the career ladder, but it wasn't the case. She'd got her job fair and square via agency work. In fact she often felt he’d made her climb even tougher than the other fledglings. Despite those obstacles, she'd made the decision to go for it and sent her father a proposal for the scoop. He'd had it on his desk for twenty-four hours and his secretary had finally emailed her an acknowledgement of her memo and an appointment for the following morning. The feature was almost hers.

The "Ghost Hunter" show seemed to be mostly filmed in infrared and featured a bunch of willing, easily excited victims, sent to spooky locations and filmed live while they scurried around, eyes glowing, waiting for any sign of ghosts or the supernatural. Luckily it looked like pretty tame stuff, the high point involving a soundman on his hands and knees with his boom, following noises around the plumbing. Amy was an outgoing, confident woman, but when it came to anything remotely scary she turned into a bag of nerves. She couldn't even sit through a horror film. Ghost Hunter seemed quite silly though. Even she could deal with that amount of creepiness if it led her on to more challenging work. The Women's Page had become a bit too predictable for her liking. She was fed up with extolling the virtues of the latest cosmetic breakthrough. Securing the occasional feature for a different column would liven things up a bit.

She was skimming through the third show when Janine returned.

"The goodies have arrived." Janine lifted the tote bag in her hand.

Amy looked at her watch. It was nearly five.

Janine reached into the bag and slapped a packet of straws onto her desk. "Remember the press party I went to last week?"

"Yes," Amy replied, eyeing the straws with curiosity.

"Well, this is what they had for hospitality. One of these and you'll have no problem bagging this Mr. Green, I assure you." She lifted two miniature bottles of Moet et Chandon out of the bag.