She shrugged. “Maybe it is. I’m no longer who the viewers are interested in. It happens.” She gave her head a sad shake. “It just hurts when it happens to you.”
“No. That’s not it. We’re dealing with a few nameless executives putting pressure on Tam to solve a problem. But they know nothing about what we do.” I turned to her and squeezed her hand. “You’re the best in the business. You need to hear me on this.”
She nodded, a look of determination on her face. “Thanks. Just trying to work through what all of this will mean. What now? I’m just still in shock. I should have known this was coming. I’m so mad that I didn’t.”
What now? That part hadn’t even occurred to me. If Carrie wanted to continue on as an anchor, she’d have to seek out another market, a concept that had my brain screaming. “You know what? Everything is going to work out. You’re going to have so many exciting opportunities now. You’re famous in this town, and the phone is going to start ringing.” I was convinced of that part. Too many people adored her. Right on cue, a couple approached.
“Love you on the five o’clock, Caroline,” the woman said. “Been watching you for years. You have dinner with us every night.”
“Thank you for watching,” she said back with a gracious smile. “And for the dinner.”
The couple continued on, beaming from having run into Caroline McNamara.
I winced. “Well, they’re not going to take this well.” That pulled a laugh, which was something.
She nodded. “I’m going to be okay. I am, right?” She was asking the cosmos.
“You are. I know that with every fiber of my being. But I’ll still scream my head off at the suits if you’ll let me. I swear to God. They will regret this.”
“Probably not the best for your career.” She gave my hand a tug and paused our walk. “But thank you for wanting to, and for getting me out of there before I imploded.”
“Anything you need.” I squeezed back. “Can I ask a question?”
“Of course.”
“You really didn’t see this coming?” Because I sure as hell didn’t.
She shook her head. “No. Can’t say I did.” I hated that answer because it meant she’d truly been blindsided, and she didn’t deserve that. Not after all the years she’d given them. My heart hurt even more. “Thank you for the walk, but we better head back. I need to be present. Let everyone know everything is fine.”
Another credit to her. She still cared about the station that just turned its back on her.
I wondered if the shake-up would continue. Would Rory be next? No. Rory had been signed for three more years and was practically dancing through the newsroom at whatever they’d offered him. Another example of the way women went underappreciated and were held to unfair standards. I seethed. Word of Carrie’s firing slowly made its way through the newsroom that afternoon. The mood dramatically shifted, and everyone kept their voices low and their heads down. They’d lost a valued leader. Morale had taken a definite hit, and just before going on air for the five, Carrie took matters into her own hands and climbed on top of her goddamned desk. My jaw hit the floor.
“Can I steal a moment of your time?” she called out to the newsroom.
The precious minutes before the broadcast were ticking by, and deadlines were looming. That didn’t stop the place from going quiet as all eyes turned to Carrie. “I know this is a weird day, and the changes coming down have us all a little on edge. But I wanted to reassure you that everything is all right. We’re still family, and we still have a ton of news to bring to the people of San Diego over the next week. So let’s set aside everything that we’re feeling and come together to make that happen.”
She was met with nods and smiles and even a shouted, “Love you, Carrie!” Her words seemed to work, and I felt the room collectively relax over the next two hours and then wake the hell up. I was amazed.
But that’s who Caroline McNamara was, a leader and the glue that held us all together. She would exit her role at the station with every ounce of respect and grace she came in with.
In the midst of my own broken heart, I couldn’t have been more proud of her.
* * *
The week from hell played on while I watched in horror, willing it all away. Carrie put out a heartfelt statement on her social media, announcing her departure from the station after over a decade on air. Her goal was to get ahead of what would surely be a sensationalized version of her firing that would hit the rumor mill soon. Once word was out, calls from her loyal viewers flooded in for a day or two before the world forgot and moved on.
I hadn’t.
We had three days left as colleagues when I got a dreaded call from Tam, too. “Skyler, can you come down to my office when you have a sec?”
“Oh. Of course,” I said, closing my eyes, my palm to my forehead. I hung up and stared, numb and nervous. My stomach turned over, and I wished I’d eaten a lighter lunch. Surely, just a check-in of sorts. I’d been with the station a few months now, and he probably wanted to work in an impromptu performance review. I’d had a couple of stories go to air that, honestly, could have been fleshed out more. I knew that. I’d been distracted this week and would be ready to own up to that in the meeting. I considered texting Carrie before walking down the hall. She was in the editing bay, consulting on her domestic violence cut. Something told me to let her be. Why send her into a similar panic?
Ty’s eyes went wide when he saw me approach Tam’s door. I passed him a silly look, which was every bit aimed at putting me at ease as it was at him. I couldn’t come up with any reason for Tam to fire me. In fact, I was well aware that they were more than happy with the attention I’d brought to the station with my viral video. Ratings had gone up after I’d been punched, and I’d scored points with the viewership. Tests had determined all of it. So what was it?
“Yeah, come on in,” Tam called, following my knock. He wasn’t on an overly intense multitasking mission today. In fact, the busy monitors were all off, the treadmill was silent, and a very calm version of my news director sat in front of me. He wore a tie and smiled the smile one offered before the kill. Fantastic. “Skyler. Let’s move to the conference room. Have a talk.”
“Okay, sure,” I said and followed him down the hall. Something big was happening. My brain made a list. “The conference room.”
I wondered if Kristin would be joining us as she usually did. Instead, sitting at the rectangular table was a redheaded gentleman with a folder, a silver thermos of coffee, and a pleasant enough smile. “Who is this?” I quietly asked Tam.
“Ted Bellows from Human Resources. He’s going to sit in with us today.” HR. That had my attention. Flashes of make-out sessions with Carrie all around the station bounced through my memory. I thought we’d been discreet enough, but now I had my doubts. This was a TV station. Maybe they had cameras everywhere. But no. Caroline was leaving. If they’d seen us kissing, it wouldn’t involve this level of intervention.