She woke up to the smell of coffee brewing, sausage frying, and shafts of golden sunlight streaming in bars across the bed. She couldn't remember how she got here. She was lying on an immense king size bed with a huge carved oak headboard. The comforter was a beautiful hand quilted design in muted reds, blues, and cream. When she sat up, she realized she was devoid of any clothing.
Still not yet recalling the series of events that led her here to this bedroom, she slid out of bed, pulling the cream coloured sheets with her. Wrapping her self in the warmth of the satin sheets she moved towards the bathroom, at least what she thought was the bathroom. Instead she came to a railing that overlooked the main floor of a rustic, yet fully furnished log cabin. She could see an awe inspiring vision of mountains, clouds, trees and a mirror smooth lake. Where she was, and what had happened to her crashed back into the forefront of her memory, the sensations overwhelming her, causing her to drop to her seat on the floor, reliving each sensuous moment.
Three weeks ago, Melissa had been in her downtown office furiously redrafting her latest column. She had gotten a new source on the congressman's finances just this morning, and after frantically tracking down the details had the scoop to finish off the rotten scoundrel for good.
Her editor had been leery of going after the politician because of the political machine in the city. Yet as Melissa had uncovered each layer of graft, swindle, and lies to the voting public, he had become more and more convinced of the story, only Melissa had to have incontrovertible fact before they would print anything. The editor didn't want the newspaper sued for libel, and wanted to protect young Melissa from ruining her career.
Minutes before the deadline, Melissa emailed a copy of her article to her editor, and sent a copy down to the presses. Slowly the stress of the frantic effort of the last two months was beginning to bleed off. The fact that she had finally caught the deviant at his own game was sinking in, and a sense of euphoria settled into her soul.
Melissa was one of the newest members to the reporting staff. Of medium height, auburn-brown hair that hung below her shoulders, a pair of legs shapely enough to cause men to break out in a sweat, and an ability to make people feel that what they told her was the most important secrets in the world made Melissa an overnight wonder in the newsroom. She ferreted out facts and secrets that most of the oldsters had given up on and unrecoverable.
The editor had taken to her quickly. Very much Lou Grant, to young Mary. While the most desirable single female in the entire paper, Melissa was devoutly single. She enjoyed men, and hoped to find the right one, but he hadn't shown up yet. Not that all the men in the paper hadn't tried.
Melissa was very focused on her work. She enjoyed the investigations. She knew how men and women alike responded to her. While she felt that her looks were adequate, she was very comfortable with her body. It was easy to tell that men desired her. If she wanted, she could have a bed partner anytime she wanted. But now wasn't the time.
Melissa's editor burst into her office the following morning with a shit-eating grin on her face. Melissa had quietly slipped out of the building yesterday and went home to celebrate on her own.
"My dear, you are the best!" Grabbing her in his infamous bear hug he swung her around the office. Finally setting her down, he kissed her soundly, and noisily on the lips, danced a jig, winked and with a knowing smile bounded back out the door.
Melissa sat down in a daze. She had done what she had set out to do. The paper had made her article the top story. The morning news had followed up on her story and were hounding the congressman to death. But the credit was all hers. And now it was all done. All the work, the effort, the hours scrounging up details, the tedious minutes listening to countless assistants bemoan the long hours and short pay to get to the information she needed. The constant worry that someone would squeal her investigation to the congressman, and him sending the goon squad after her. It was all over now.
The DA called and asked for copies of some of her notes so he could begin his investigation. Melissa was more then happy to comply, she had the box all ready and sent a messenger from the paper over with it.
Now what to do. The labours of the last months had seriously sapped at her stamina. Long hours, little sleep, and awful eating habits had depleted her stores of energy. While not an exercise freak, Melissa did enjoy hiking, climbing, and cycling and had maintained her body rather well, until she went after the congressman. Then the time just wasn't there.
Melissa's editor found her slumped in her chair after she missed the morning editorial roundup. Her color was off, her pulse week, and breath very shallow. Calling 911 he rushed her off to the hospital.
That evening the doctor broke the news. "Melissa you have run yourself too hard. Your body is screaming for rest. I can't allow you to go back to work. You need to go someplace quiet and just rest for a month. Then you come back in for a checkup and we'll see how you are then. But I mean rest, now work, no writing for the paper, no chasing down leads, no nothing. Just eat, sleep, soak up some sun, and some mild exercise." Nodding to her editor, the doctor left Melissa and him alone.
"Well dear, you gave us all a scare. Can't have our best reporter working herself to death now, can we." He smiled. Like the uncle she never had, he kissed her forehead. "I've got an idea of a project for you. Yes, I know the doc said no work, but I know you, you need a project to work on. When you get home, I'll come over and give you the details."
Later that week, he gave her the scoop. Paul Nielson was a political columnist that had retired two years ago. He had disappeared. The paper wanted to get him back on the staff. There had been some anonymous columns that had been emailed to the paper over the last months that could only have come from Nielson.