“But are you ready?” Kristin asked. “That’s my question. This place isn’t for the faint of heart.” It looked to me like Kristin might have firsthand experience with that last part.
I locked eyes with her. “I’m more than ready. All I need is a chance.”
Tam held up his phone. “We send you to the bank. What do you do?”
I didn’t hesitate. “A statement from the PIO. Tons of B-roll and talk to the witnesses.”
“They’d don’t want to talk to you,” Tam shot back. “Their loved one is still inside, a hostage, and they want to be left alone. Did the elementary school field day prepare you for that?”
“I explain to them that putting a plea out there, on camera, might actually help the situation. Humanize the captors and connect them to life outside the bank, to a family that loves the hostage. They’d no longer just be a number.”
He tossed his pen onto the desk. “Do you believe that?”
“Yes.”
“And if you didn’t, would you say so to get the interview?”
I hesitated.
“So you have a moral compass. That can hold you back.”
“It can also steer me toward the right story. I don’t get caught up in sensationalism.”
Tam sat back in his chair, and I couldn’t tell whether my comment had resonated or offended. I opened my mouth to elaborate, but he cut me off, asking questions about the kinds of assignments I’d done at my current station, my education, my goals. Boring stuff. Nothing that would get me this job. I had a sinking feeling.
The interview seemed to end before it began, and I was left with so much I wanted to say.
“Thank you for coming in, Skyler,” Kristin said. She closed her notebook and stood. “We have quite a few applicants to meet with, but we’ll review your reel again and be in touch.”
“It was a pleasure,” Tam said and began switching on his monitors, ready to scope out the competitors’ coverage on that bank, no doubt. It didn’t seem like I’d left much of an impression. I had to say something, but this didn’t feel like the right moment. Didn’t matter. The words were on their way.
“Have you ever known deep down that you were meant to do something specific?” And there they were.
Kristin studied me. “I’ve felt drawn to certain things, sure.”
I had a fire in me. “I’ve always known that I was meant to be a journalist, but I haven’t been given much of a chance to prove it where I work.” I shifted my gaze from Kristin to Tam. “If you hire me, you’ll be hiring someone who is hungry beyond measure. I will work tirelessly for you and make sure you never regret it. When you’re sleeping, I’m looking for that next story. A tiger on the hunt. I have an eagle eye for important story details and strong connections with people. I know I can do a good job here. I apologize for all the wildlife imagery, but it feels apt.” I nodded and exhaled. “Thank you for speaking with me today. I hope to hear from you. Let me be the best risk you’ve ever taken.”
I saw them exchange a look I couldn’t decode as I exited the office. My feet stopped moving for a moment, however, when my eyes took in a beautiful blonde, standing at a desk across the room. Caroline McNamara. Right there in front of me. I swallowed, my skin prickling. The cameras didn’t do her justice. She was quite simply striking beyond all measure. Large blue eyes, hair that fell in perfect layers just past her shoulders. She was taller than I’d realized. Maybe five seven? I wouldn’t know for sure unless I got closer, which of course I wouldn’t. She was concentrating on something and then shifted her focus across the room as if looking for someone specific. Her eyes landed on mine briefly before continuing to scan.
“Skyler?” Kristin said. Right. She was supposed to be walking me out.
“Coming.” I thanked her again and resisted the urge to take a final look at the woman I’d long admired. Suit guy was still in the waiting room when I breezed past him, unsettled by my interview and simultaneously wondering if his perfect polish would leave a stronger impression than the farm reporter from the middle of nowhere who wasn’t thrilled with her shoes and kept mentioning animals.
All I could do was hope they called.
I wasn’t prepared for them to do so, however.
I’d grown used to my rut and expected to stay in it. When my phone rang three weeks later as I stood in the middle of a high school football game, waiting for the giant bird mascot to kick the festivities off with his traditional march around the field, I was nervous to slide onto the call.
“This is Skyler,” I said with feigned confidence. Just me, answering any old call on a Tuesday.
“Skyler, Gilbert Tam.”
“Mr. Tam, how are you?” I prayed the crowd noise wasn’t too loud, but the bird was on the field now, and the people were going nuts for his blue ass.
“Just Tam, remember?” He didn’t wait for a response, his tone terse, like I was one of many things on his morning to-do list. I put a finger in my ear to hear him better. “Listen, we’ve talked about it. You want to give this thing a shot?”
My breath caught. No buildup, no polite exchange, just bam. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? Was this the job offer I’d been trying to manifest, envisioning myself taking such a call every night as I lay in bed? I flipped around, away from the field. Greg was a pro and would be sure to grab the marching bird footage. He didn’t need me for that. “I do. Yeah. Very much.” My mouth fell open, and I swiveled around again, facing the field, because I had no idea what to do with myself in this very exciting and unlikely moment. Galloping fucking gazelles, I was getting out of the small-town news business and moving up.
Tam pressed on. “Fantastic. I can offer a six-month contract and see how things go. From there, we can decide if it’s a good fit. The salary is not really negotiable.”
I was supposed to speak now, given it was the customary thing to do when it was your turn. I closed my mouth and searched for words because, dammit, speaking was what I did for a living, and I needed to continue doing that, so I could eat food. “Great. Yes. All of it. The money. Six months.” Way to play hard to get. I amended, “Six months is workable, I mean.” It was a test. I had to prove myself in that time or they’d cut me loose. Big stations didn’t blink when it came to firing reporters who weren’t working out. It was the longtime personalities they held on to. People like Caroline McNamara and Rory Summerton. Rory had struck a chord with the San Diego community a few years back when he went rogue and fired off a monologue about the evils of corporate greed. I’d thought for sure he’d be axed, but to my amazement his star only rose. People felt like he’d stood up for them. I couldn’t help but wonder if Caroline, being female, would have received that same treatment. The news industry was as sexist as any other, if not more so, unfortunately.