Free Desert of Desire by Wynter Daniels Page A

when’s he coming to town?”
Jacoby sighed. “He’s not. Lives in Sedona, Arizona. Says he hates big cities.”
“A phone interview? How will we get photos? Is he sending some? ”
He reached behind his desk and grabbed something from the credenza. “Here you go,” he said, setting a digital camera on the desk. “We’ll use some of the publicity shots his publisher is sending over and fill in with one or two of yours. It’s a beautiful place, you know. Ever been out west?”
“Only as far as Buffalo.” She swallowed hard. Was he trying to tell her she had to go to Arizona? No way. She did local stories only. “Wait a second.” She stood up, ready to tell him what for.
He held up a pudgy hand. “Siddown, Eve. I know, I know, you don’t fly. But I got nobody else. Go to your doctor and get some nice anti-anxiety pills and then put that cute behind on an airplane. It’s a great opportunity for a newbie like you. I’ll have that pimple-faced intern cover for you here.” He laced his fingers together on the desk. “Plane ticket’s in the folder. You leave Thursday morning. Be at his house at four-thirty, Arizona time. Take the rest of today off. Tomorrow you can start your research. Have a wonderful time. Stay the weekend.” He stared at her for a moment. “Airplanes are safer than cars, honey. Get over it.” With that, he swiveled his chair toward his computer and started hitting keys . “That’s all. Thank you.”
Eve grabbed the camera and left the room with the file folder clutched against her chest, her head in a daze. How could he do this to her? She ought to refuse.
Yeah, right, and lose my job.
With a stack of credit card bills and college loans, she couldn’t afford a minute without a job. The last time she’d spent more than three hundred words on a subject was when she wrote for her college newspaper four years ago. And flying? After a horrendous flight five years earlier she’d promised God if he got her safely to the ground, she’d never set foot in another airplane as long as she lived. How could she break a promise to God?
    * * * * *
Eve’s flight approached the runway three days later at Grand Canyon Flagstaff Airport. Her knuckles had turned white and she couldn’t feel her fingers anymore, not after clutching the armrest for three straight hours even though the ride had been smooth. The moment they touched down she let out the breath it felt as if she’d been holding the entire flight.
She easily negotiated baggage claim then hurried to the curb to grab a taxi. She handed the driver Calloway’s address.
“Sedona?” The man scoffed. “That’s an hour away, lady.” He turned around and curled his lips into a snarl.
Like she couldn’t handle an irate cabbie. Ha! She was a New Yorker. “Buddy, I got the dime if you got the time. You want to chit chat or you want to drive?”
The man’s brow lifted, and after a long moment, he shrugged. “Sure. Why not.”
She settled into the seat and called the phone number Jacoby had given her.
“Calloway residence,” a man answered.
Eve cleared her throat. “Yes, Mr. Calloway?”
“No. Who’s this?”
“Eve Mason, Buzz Magazine. I’m on my way there from Flagstaff. Mr. Calloway asked that I let him know when I’d be arriving.” She looked out the window and watched the city disappear. Suddenly lush, green mountains lined the road.
“I’ll let him know.” Click.
She held the phone away from her ear and stared at it. How rude. She shook her head and returned the cell to her purse.
The car passed a roadside stand with tables full of glittering jewelry and two dark-skinned women with long jet-black hair. Not dark-skinned like her, definitely not of African decent like she. One wore a cowboy hat.
“Hey.” She leaned toward the driver. “Were they Indians? I mean Native Americans.”
“Yeah. They sell crafts along this stretch. Beaded stuff, turquoise and coral pieces set in silver. I got my wife a real pretty necklace for her