“Here’s that sandwich you wanted.” Jen placed the brown paper bag on Joey’s desk along with a can of Coke, disturbing a nest of yellow post-it notes.

Joey glanced up at Jen from behind her computer screen, her hair piled onto her head in a disheveled bun and her eyes hidden behind her thick black framed glasses. “Thanks.”

The brunette had really impressed Jen with the article she had written based on her interview with Pacey and they’d even begun to form a tentative friendship in the following weeks. Jen had been hoping Joey would stick to the new look she had given her, but it hadn’t worked. She did start to wear make up more, however lightly and it was an improvement. Even Jen had noticed that she sometimes began to wear her hair down as opposed to her usual French braid. She shook her head sadly and headed for the door. There was only so much she could do. “Oh and Kyle wants to see you in his office.”

“He does?” Joey appeared troubled by the information, her wrapped chicken sandwich now sitting on her desk.

Jen nodded. “Yep.”

She sighed and glanced down at her food. So close, she hadn’t had time to eat breakfast that morning and she was ravenous. “Fine. Just tell him to give me five minutes.”

“Will do.”

Kyle smiled into the phone, leaning back in his leather chair for once not looking as hassled in his wrinkled, striped collared shirt. He hadn’t even bothered with a tie that morning and the one he used for emergency meetings was slung around his chair “No, this will work out perfectly for us all.” He nodded. “Yes, I’ve already talked to Potter. Thinks it’s a great idea.” He lied into the phone. “The paper will cover all of her costs, not a problem. We’ve set aside space on the sports page for the next two months.” He was silent, every few seconds nodding into the phone.

He grabbed a pen. “Four o’clock,” he replied writing the words as he said them. “The Sheriton bar. Tuesday. Got it.” He smiled, just as Joey entered the room and Joey immediately got a good feeling about this meeting. Kyle waved her to take a seat.

Joey smiled politely and sat down on one of the two chairs in front of his desk, while she waited for him to finish, wondering what he wanted to see her about.

“It was great talking with you. This will be exclusive, right?” Kyle’s face broke into a grin. “Thank you and have a good afternoon.” He hung up and turned to Joey with a smile. “My dear, you’re being promoted.”

Joey’s eyes widened in surprise and she grinned. “Really?”

“Yes. That article you wrote on Pacey Witter was the best work I’ve seen out of you. It’s amazing given the fact you’re not a sports journalist.” He praised her.

She shrugged embarrassedly, remembering that night. “It was nothing, really.”

“No, Joey. It was something. So, I’m giving you a sports column for the next two months. Devoted to Pacey and the Red Sox. You’ll spend a week with him, and then follow him and the team down to spring training, right up until the opening game. Give our readers a behind the scenes look at life in the major leagues.” He grinned at her, proud of his idea.

She blinked, the smile falling from her face. “You’re joking, right?”

“No, not at all.” He smiled. “And you won’t be going into this as Jen Lindley, you’ll have your own byline.”

“B-but--but I’m not a sports writer,” she managed to stammer out. He’s off the deep end, Joey thought. He cannot be serious.

“I know, but you did wonderful with your article on Pacey. That’s the beauty of this column; you don’t need to know all that much about sports. It’s all human interest. Anything statistical that you feel the need to write about, get Jen to help with.”

“I know nothing about baseball!”

He ignored her. “You start today, Tuesday, you’ll meet him at the Sheriton hotel at four, and basically get the background info on his life. The first eight hundred words are due, tomorrow, Wednesday by three, in time for the evening edition then an article every weekday after that. You’ll have a week to get your things in order, before you fly down to Florida with the team for spring training. It’s all expenses paid, Joey,” he enticed.

“Then, after the six weeks, you’ll come back up here for the week long break before the opening game.” He smiled. “I think I can even get you to throw the first pitch.” He looked at her. “You should be writing this all down.”

“Right...” she replied dazed and grabbed a pencil from the holder on his desk, merely holding it.

“Think about it Joey, this is your chance to get your name out there. If you do a good job with this, you’ll be surprised by what you’ll be covering next. And I don’t see how this could be a failure, with your talent, and the subject matter. This is a win-win situation. Just reveal to the world what kind of man Pacey Witter is.”

“But he thinks I’m Jen.”

Kyle shrugged. “So? You tell him there was a last minute change and you had to fill in for her. No big deal.”

She looked at him hopefully. “Are you sure there’s no way I can get out of this? I mean, you should send Jen. Jen’s the sports writer. It was her interview in the first place.”

“Right, but you wrote it.” He paused, debating on whether he should continue, “Frankly, Jen couldn’t write something like this. She’s exactly that, a sports writer. What I’m looking for isn’t sports. I’m looking for something at the heart Pacey. And the heart of the team.”

Joey thought she might cry. “And when do I start?”

“You meet him at the Sheriton bar, four o’clock today. First article is 800-words due by three on Wednesday. You leave a week from Friday with the team for spring training in Florida. So the sooner you can get your affairs in order, the better. Joey, cheer up. This column could make or break you as a journalist. And I have complete faith that it’ll be the former.”

She fought the urge to glare at him and stood up. “Well, then if that’s all you needed to tell me, I guess I’ll be going.”

“Okay, Joey. And if you need anything, give me a call. Or Jen. I’m sure she’ll help you out if you need it.”

She just smiled weakly, a woman defeated, before she headed out the door. “Okay.”

~*~

Pacey lifted the longneck beer bottle to his lips. Even though it was only four o’clock, he figured he’d need a drink to get through the initial interview. This Potter guy, judging from that article he read earlier this week, was going to do his best to make him appear like a complete ass. He’d already been waiting at the bar for ten minutes.

He’d opted to stay at the hotel, instead of in the house with Andie. No matter what Jack said, he didn’t want the reporter exposed to them. There was only the probability of bad to come from it. He figured if he worked hard enough Potter wouldn’t have a clue. Besides, it was only a week, and then they’d be in Florida for six weeks.

Joey sighed as she walked into the bar, wondering how she let herself get into this mess. This time she was wearing a pair of black slacks, and a brown tank top. Her hair was held back behind her head in a French braid, a pair of black sandals on her feet. She smiled as she walked, definitely better than those death trap shoes Jen had her wear before. She adjusted the strap to her brown purse, a nervous gesture, and walked over to the bar, wiping her brow.

“Let me get a strawberry daiquiri.” She sat down on one of the stools and fixed her glasses, the air conditioning had been down in her building and it wouldn’t be fixed until later tonight, hopefully. She smiled pleasantly as the drink was placed in front of her and she took a quick sip from the straw, careful not to drink to fast so she wouldn’t get a brain freeze. She sighed happily; the drink was a welcome relief.

Pacey looked around, wondering where the heck this guy was. He really didn’t have the patience to wait around for someone who obviously didn’t have a very high opinion of him. He scanned the sparsely occupied bar and his eyes landed on a woman, it took him a few moments before he recognized her. “Jen,” he called, walking over to her.

Joey nearly choked on her drink when she spotted Pacey. She’d been hoping she’d at least have a little time to prepare for this. She raised the straw back to her lips and began to drink it down anxiously.

“Not even a hello?” He asked with a teasing smile.

She smiled nervously setting the nearly empty glass down. “Hello.”

“So, what do I owe the honor of running into you again?” He gave her a pleading look. “Please say it’s because you’re the journalist doing this expose and not Joey Potter?”

“Oh I wish it wasn’t Joey Potter.” She reached for her drink and finished it off.

“So you’re not?” He sighed, slightly disappointed.

“You’d figure they’d let the actual sportswriter handle this,” Joey went on and ordered herself another drink. “Not some columnist that knows nothing about baseball.”

“Exactly. I agree one hundred percent. What is it with this guy, does he have it in for me or something?”

Her drink arrived and she didn’t bother with answering him. She quickly began the task of finishing it off.

“I see the uncharacteristic hot weather has gotten to you.”

She shrugged.

“If you’re waiting for someone, I can go,” he gestured with his beer back down the bar where he’d been sitting earlier.

“I just want to finish this.” She motioned to her drink figuring enough alcohol would calm her nerves a bit.

“Okay.” He nodded, lifting his drink to his lips, wrapping them around the opening. She glanced away, staring at the counter top as she finished her drink. “So, what’s the story with this guy? Does he have a history of being late?” Pacey hated silence.

She shook her head and set her glass down, before standing up. “No.”

“Leaving?”

“No.” She shook her head again and straightened her purse. “I just think this would be easier at a table than sitting at the bar.”

“What would?” This woman was incredibly confusing.

“The interview.”

“So you *are* doing this?” He followed her to a table.

“Unfortunately.”

He frowned. “Jen, you’re confusing me.”

She motioned to the seat across from her as she sat by a table near the entrance. “Sit and I’ll explain.”

“O-kay,” he warily sat down. “Is this about what happened after our interview?”

“That was a mistake,” she said briskly, all business, and pulled a notepad and pen from her bag.

“Yeah, fine.” He agreed. “So then, what’s to explain?”

“I’m not Jen Lindley.”

He gave her a blank look. “Then who the hell are you?”

She uncapped her pen. “I’m Joey Potter.”

“I thought Joey Potter was a guy.”

“Well, obviously you thought wrong,” she said simply.

“Then who’s Jen Lindley? And why would you lie to me?” His eyes narrowed as his distrust grew.

“Jen was sick and she couldn’t make it, so I took her place. I had no idea I’d get stuck writing this thing.”

“So, you’re the one that has it in for me?”

She raised an eyebrow. “And you’re not getting paid a ridiculous amount of money?”

“Great,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair. “So what? As Joey you dislike me for reasons beyond my control, and as Jen, I’m worthy enough to share your bed?”

“Like I said, that was a mistake.”

“Just to get this straight, you’re back to disliking me?”

“I’m not getting paid to like you. I’m just here to get the story.”

“We’re going to be spending a lot of time together, Potter. And believe me when I say I’m not going to enjoy it. But the least we can do is maintain a friendly atmosphere.”

“Professional would be just fine.”

“Fine, then. Fire away.”

“Do you normally drink so much?”

“You mean this one beer I’ve had?” He lifted the bottle up. “I should be asking you that question.”

She glared. “And how many random women do you sleep with? Can we be looking forward to illegitimate children?”

“I don’t know, are you trying to tell me something?” He shot back.

“If I were I wouldn’t be so subtle that way you’d be able to understand.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, this is gonna be a great two months. To think, I actually enjoyed your company.”

“And this is just going to be a real picnic for me.”

“Fine, lets get this over with today. What do you need for the first article?”

“Just basic background information, like what school you went to and where you grew up and blah, blah, blah, blah.” She rolled her eyes.

“I grew up in a small town, Rostberg, Michigan. The youngest of five children. My dad was the town sheriff and my older brother was his deputy. I played softball from the time I was old enough to hold a bat. Then joined little league, my high school team, then my agent, Jack McPhee found me and recruited me for the minor leagues.”

Joey wrote down what she would need diligently. “Anything else?”

“Off the top of my head, no.”

She smiled sweetly. “Maybe I should give you a few minutes to think.”

“Cute, “ he replied sarcastically. “How should I know what information you need?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot that I needed to be more specific.”

“For someone who’s supposed to be a journalist, you aren’t very good.”

“Shall I speak slowly for you?”

“Okay.” He stood up, tossing a few bills onto the table. “Since you obviously have nothing else to ask. Good luck with that article.”

“Not my fault you have the attention span of a two-year-old.”

“Hey, I answered the question, and you didn’t ask another one.” He slipped his wallet back into the pocket at the seat of his pants. “Have a good day, Potter.”

“You’re impossible. How am I expected to get eight hundred words out of that?”

“I asked you what else you needed to know.”

“Oh, c’mon. It shouldn’t be that hard for you to talk about yourself.”

“Maybe not for someone as self-centered and self-righteous as yourself, but for me...it’s a little difficult.”

“Ooh such a way with words.”

“Bye Potter.” He grumbled turning away and heading for the lobby. “Call my agent for our next *meeting*.”

Joey scowled. “Jerk,” she muttered under her breath.