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them. Just a few months ago, they weren’t even convinced it was a good decision to have a professional athlete on the air. Publicity stunts were juvenile and immature. Surely the conservative board would veto the entire idea before someone took it seriously.

      “I appreciate your offer to help, Colin dear, but I don’t think a Christian radio station should have to resort to frivolous stunts to bring in an income,” Mrs. Franklin said with her hands folded in her lap.

      Nikki was pleased with the comment, suddenly realizing this might not have been Colin’s idea. If he hadn’t proposed the idea, who had? Was Chapman Communications in financial trouble?

      The advertising manager shook his head. “We’re not keeping the money, Mrs. Franklin. It’s going to a charity. We benefit from the exposure, not the income.”

      Nikki let out a mental sigh of relief.

      A heated discussion about the impropriety of the idea broke out again, leaving she and Colin watching the arguments volley from pro to con.

      “If I might add something here,” Colin interrupted. “Ever since September 11, non-profit organizations have suffered a terrible blow, as has our country. Efforts to help the victims were quite generous, and now it seems the public and the victims are ready to shift their attention to other needs that still exist elsewhere.”

      Around the table, Nikki watched heads nod.

      “Whether the task seems trivial or not doesn’t seem to matter. Pushing a peanut down the Sixteenth Street Mall with my nose raised $612,000 for medical research. Stadium-sitting raised nearly eight hundred thousand. Parachuting onto the pitcher’s mound made a couple of hundred thousand for medical bills for a leukemia patient. We can’t begin to underestimate the generosity of our community. I’m sure this will light a fire for giving.”

      Nikki managed to subdue her shock at the total of Colin’s efforts, though she instinctively glanced in his direction.

      The director of publicity interjected more astounding and unbelievable facts. “Colin’s stunts raised nearly two million dollars in the aggregate. It may not make any sense to all of us, but that isn’t the point. We need something to garner more attention for the newspaper and the radio station while raising money for those in need. We should set an example for the community to follow.”

      Nikki’s attention wandered to the man across from her. Colin didn’t even have the decency to argue the embellishment. How could anyone have raised that much money if there wasn’t something in it for him?

      “I believe Colin can help us meet that goal, as well as raise money for the homeless shelter at the same time.”

      Something in the conversation finally provoked a reaction from Colin. His dark brows furrowed, accentuating his receding hairline. “Homeless shelter?”

      “Yes, Good Sam Shelter. Didn’t I tell you that?”

      Leaning his elbows on the mahogany table, Colin matched fingertips on both hands and shrugged slightly. “I’m sure you did. I must have missed the details, I guess.” He seemed irritated by the information.

      “That isn’t a problem, is it?” Nikki asked, to the surprise of everyone there, including herself. The words were out of her mouth before she realized it.

      Colin’s tan looked considerably paler than it had ten minutes ago. Despite the odd expression, he shook his head. “No. I can’t think of a more worthy cause.”

      Nikki determined then and there that she was going to find out the truth behind Colin’s reaction.

      Chapter Two

      Colin couldn’t help but wonder if his past had finally caught up with the media. He wanted out.

      Out of the room and out of this commitment. Now, before Miss I-Know-You-Have-a-Secret Post plastered her suspicions across the front page of the paper. He inhaled slowly, carefully freezing his face in a confident smile.

      She hadn’t actually rolled her eyes at the ideas posed during the discussion, but she had yawned more than once. Still, her smile seemed to brighten with his slip of the tongue. Maybe it was her eyes. Did eyes smile and taunt, like heartless children making fun of little boys when their lives fell apart?

      Don’t be ridiculous, Colin. She’s just an intern, not a reporter.

      Nothing had stopped him from helping others before. No one had ever questioned why he’d agreed to participate in any of the previous fund-raisers. He glanced back at Miss Post, feeling like her next meal. She had barely taken her eyes off him the entire meeting.

      Journalists need to get a life of their own, he thought. Suddenly he had braces again and Molly with the big brown eyes and curly blond pigtails was staring at him, and he had the strongest urge to make a face, just like he had in fifth grade, when he decided girls were the worst invention God had ever made.

      He looked back at Nicole, realizing how innocently right his thinking had been. God had created Eve as a helpmate, but she’d turned out to be a temptress, responsible for Adam’s fall. How many times would it take before he learned—beauty is only skin-deep?

      When would the Lord introduce him to a woman whose heart led her life? One who didn’t care if he ended up in a homeless shelter, as long as they were together. Not that he ever planned to let his life get so far out of control, but still, every day the unexpected happened to those who least expected it. Did such a woman even exist?

      Colin smiled and waited for Nicole to glance his way again. It was the closest he could manage to making faces. Especially at this woman. Her broken-down car and a little grime did little to disguise her graceful poise and flippant attitude. He could feel his expression moving toward an unflattering scowl when Colin heard his name.

      “Personally, I don’t think we should take time for a contest to choose the events for a stunt. If the shelter is overcrowded now, surely we can come up with something Colin is willing to do. What if Colin walks across the state?” Mrs. Franklin asked in her shaky voice.

      “Every organization sponsors walks.” Chapman’s smile disappeared as he leaned back in the leather chair and tossed out other stunt ideas, none of which impressed Colin.

      “Pocketbooks are a lot thinner these days. And face it, Colin, the public expects more from you. The more outrageous the better.”

      “I agree, but I’m not pushing a peanut across the state. If we only do a ten mile walk, the event will be out of the public’s mind in a matter of an hour or two,” Colin said adamantly. “The focus of this should be on the needs of the homeless. Many of them live in their cars, or sell them for money to put food on the table forcing them to take alternative methods of transportation. I like the border-to-border idea.”

      Mr. Chapman’s assistant handed the publisher and each board member a packet on homeless families, suggesting everyone take time to peruse the statistics and send Mr. Chapman ideas. Colin felt memories return as he glanced at the pictures in the brochure. He felt perspiration on his forehead.

      “Do you really think this is a good time for this?” Colin asked.

      Ellis rubbed his hand over his clean-shaven chin. “Trust me,” Ellis said with emphasis, “this issue is a magnet right now. Anything you do in the name of this proposed shelter will draw attention.”

      More ideas crossed the table before the meeting officially closed. Colin and Mr. Chapman walked back toward his office. “I’m sure we can come up with something creative,” Chapman stated.

      Colin paused at the assistant’s desk, expecting to schedule another meeting. “This promotion is a great idea, and I’m glad to be part of it.” Colin could feel God’s hand taking control of the project even as they spoke. Even in the crevices of his memories, going through with this didn’t seem quite as frightening as it had an hour ago with Nicole Post staring him down like a head-hunting pitcher.

      Chapman motioned Colin to his office. “Unless you have

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