I don’t know much about reality shows. In fact, I’m probably less savvy than the average viewer because I only watch the one show and I consume it like the mindless entertainment it is. Still, I’m pretty sure the contestants aren’t supposed to be involved—even just for a minute—with other people while the show is being filmed. “Involved how? Can you be more specific?” I ask.
“It was during week three. I’m so embarrassed now, but he seemed interested and I was flattered because—well, you’ve seen him—and it just kind of happened. A couple of times. The details of how and where aren’t that important, are they?”
“It depends. Did he force you into anything?”
“No, no. It was totally consensual. Are you kidding? Just a couple nights in my room after the camera stopped rolling. But totally inappropriate because I worked for the show. Also because he’s a contestant and it’s against the rules.”
“When did you work there?” I ask. I’m focused on the fact that she’s referring to her job in the past tense.
She nods, looking again into her coffee. She blinks heavily. “Up until a month ago. In the camera department. I was downsized. Of course, right?”
I can’t jump to conclusions about the reason, even though she seems to think it’s obvious. It’s fair game to eliminate someone’s position. But with the show still in production, it does seem unusual that her job suddenly became redundant.
“Did other people get laid off?” I ask.
“Nope, just me. About a week after Jake and I hooked up. I’m sure he got me fired. He’s a slimeball. I know he seems smooth and desirable to the audience, but trust me, it’s an act. He’s not interested in winning because he wants to fall in love. He wants the money.”
I put up a hand to stop her. There are too many accusations coming all at once, and frankly, it wouldn’t be the first time a reality show contestant was more interested in money than love. The main issue seems to be that they both violated the rules and she’s the one who lost her job over it.
“Did you tell anyone on the show that you two hooked up?”
“A few people know, but they’re my friends. I trust them to be discreet, but obviously someone reported it because I was fired,” she says, pressing her lips into a line.
I have to be careful here because she’s leveling accusations without evidence. “Can you prove you were laid off in retaliation? Did anyone say that to you? I mean, why are you certain you weren’t downsized as part of normal cost-cutting?”
She levels me with a stare. “Because I live in the real world. We both know this kind of shit happens all the time. I ended it with him after a week because I knew it was a stupid lapse in judgment and I didn’t want to jeopardize my job. Turns out, I did anyway.”
“Did anyone reprimand you for the affair before you were laid off?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Because, think about it. If they reprimanded me, they’d have to reprimand him. Which would mean he’d be kicked off the show, and that’s not something they want when he’s a ratings magnet,” she says.
“So you called me.”
She nods her head. “You can investigate. Maybe you can prove they got rid of me and let him slide because they wanted to keep their audience favorite. I can’t say anything publicly or I’ll be blackballed from the industry. Television is a small world. That’s why they paid me a generous severance, so I’d go away. Worldvision makes so much money on that show, they can’t risk losing fans over a scandal.”
Suddenly, the coffee bean grinder sounds like a power drill in my head.
How do I continually hurl myself into such deep caverns of crap? How did I not notice that Worldvision produces Bachelor Bay when I watch it every single week? Worldvision is the biggest company on Jack’s beat and of course he’s going to care about this. I’ve just dug myself another deep hole.
“Okay,” I say, my brain spinning out scenarios that include my public hanging in the newsroom if I’m lucky and career suicide if I’m not. For now, I try to keep it together. “This is a lot of good information. I’m gonna need to take a beat and figure out where to go from here.”
“Of course.” Megan looks relieved to have unburdened herself, even though I haven’t said what I plan to do with everything she’s told me. I wish I felt as good.
After Megan leaves, I use my phone to do a little digging. From what I can see in the annual reports that Worldvision has released over the past few years, the company makes nearly half its money on its television division, but it’s not broken down by show. I find a list of all the shows produced by the company, a couple low-rated dramas, and a few other reality shows, but I can already tell that none of them have the earning power of Bachelor Bay. It’s their cash cow, so it makes some sense that the company would want to maintain its success. But if they’re knowingly burying a scandal involving a contestant and a crew member, they’re leaving the company exposed if anyone talks. It sounds like a handful of people know about it, and all it takes is one who blabs. Why take that risk?
I’ve been a reporter long enough to know the answer to that. It’s the same reason anyone does anything with questionable moral underpinnings: to make money. Dollars drive everything in business. What I don’t know yet is whether what they did—if it’s all true—is a crime.
14
Linden
When I get back to the newsroom, it’s relatively quiet. A few reporters are out at meetings and some have already filed their stories for the day and gone home. In the time since I left Megan at Starbucks, the self-doubt has crept in. It seems like a story. It’s a story, right? Am I crazy to think this is a story? She was downsized and she thinks it’s retaliation for sleeping with Jake.
I consider the possibilities. Maybe the show was just cutting costs. Maybe it’s unrelated to Megan sleeping with Jake and telling only a few people. Maybe they all kept quiet. If I go to Jack with my investigative lead and I’m wrong, his contempt will be etched in my brain forever.
Why don’t you stick to your own beat and stop pretending you know how to do my job?
I can see his sneering smile, enjoying my failure. Again.
The problem is, my instinct tells me Megan is right. I’ve seen every episode of Bachelor Bay, and I can understand how a scandal involving Jake would tank the show. Megan is more expendable than Jake, but he’s equally culpable. It galls me that he can continue on unscathed.
Even though I just drank a latte, I head for the coffee room, knowing that more caffeine will push me into jittery territory. Maybe I can find something soothing. Like herbal tea. Or valium.
I need a little more time to think before I go back to my desk. The coffee room is a dumping ground for lunch leftovers, which fill up most of the fridge, and assorted sodas, flavored waters, and teas, none of which appeal to me. I forage around in the cupboard for a mug, which I fill with water from the dispenser against the wall.
I can’t decide whether to talk to Jack about the potential story or whether I should take it to Stuart and see what he thinks. Stuart will want to know everything Megan told me, which is fine as long as I tell him it’s off the record, but then he’ll want to know how I plan to investigate the rest. I don’t have a good answer to that, not yet.