“I—”
Stuart doesn’t let me finish. “I think it’s a good idea.”
“What?!” Jack’s eyes are practically bugging out of his head.
“She has a point. And I want to encourage initiative. Linden followed a lead and here we are.”
“Yes. Here we are. I’m going to the Nichols’s house for the weekend. I’m sure I can find a minute to interview this game show host—”
“Reality show host—” I say.
“—Or whoever the fuck he is when I’m there. I need to control whatever this other story is and weave it into the narrative. I can’t have someone else following leads all over the goddamn place without me.”
“Fine. Write it together,” Stuart says, rubbing his hands together. I’m liking Stuart more and more for his zen-like calm in this situation but I’m not sure I like this suggestion.
“Together.” Jack says it like the word makes no sense. I have to say I agree. I’m not sure Stuart understands what he’s unleashing, based on the chipper tone in his voice. He’s putting two people who currently can’t stand each other on one assignment and hoping we don’t kill each other. But in the interest of not getting murdered right here in his office, I don’t dare say a word.
“Or she writes and you edit, which would be good for you—”
Jack holds up a hand and interrupts him. “Not happening.” Only he can get away with talking to Stuart this way.
“Fine. Share a byline, divide it up however you decide. You each have a unique in with the company now. You both take different approaches to sources, which I think can be useful. This is a situation where the parts will add up to more than the whole.”
“I’m not sure I agree with your strategy—” Jack starts to say, but Stuart waves a hand.
“I understand, but hear me out. I think this is an opportunity. Come at this company from all sides. You work your angle, Linden works hers. She’s good with people.” Stuart’s excitement almost has me convinced it could work. The look on Jack’s face says otherwise.
He’s shaking his head, his whole body in danger of convulsing. A vein in his temple is bulging and I’m a little worried it might explode. His face is a shade of pink mine only gets when I’m mortified, and I know that’s the reason in his case.
“Stuart, I need to focus on the profile. If I can wrangle an invitation this weekend, I can close it.”
“So, take Linden with you.”
“I’m sorry?” I can see the vein pulsing from where I sit. I wonder if it will be hard to get his blood out of my clothes when he has an aneurysm and it blows all over me.
“Just an idea. If the reality host is going to be there, you can kill two birds. She can interview him too.”
“Stuart, this is feeling complicated.”
“Do it or don’t do it. Figure out what will get you your story, is all I’m saying.”
Stuart sits back and looks from one of us to the other, his way of saying the meeting is over. We each stand silently and walk back to our desks. I don’t dare look at Jack or utter a word to him. I can feel the anger emanating from his body like a force field, threatening to knock me over with how much he hates that we have to work on something together. I don’t blame him. I’m not happy either.
15
Jack
I can’t decide if I’m irritated or impressed. No, I’m definitely irritated. Okay, and a tiny bit impressed.
First, she goes and meets with someone on a potential story that’s clearly squarely in the middle of my beat without telling me. Then she tells Stuart her source only feels comfortable talking to her. It’s ballsy, which is why I’m impressed. She needs that attitude and killer instinct if she’s going to be successful at the job. But not at my expense.
That’s why I need to plow ahead and get my profile done and written. I know it will either run on Page One or it will be the lead story in the Sunday magazine. Either way, I’ll blow all the other publications out of the water. I need to nail down my invitation for the weekend a and finish my reporting. No, it’s not a done deal yet. That’s another issue. Claudia hasn’t confirmed and I’ve got a lot riding on getting it to happen. This reality show garbage is an annoyance I don’t need.
I’m also pissed as hell at Stuart for suggesting I edit Linden’s work because no one is supposed to know that may end up being my fulltime job. Jeremy told me a few months ago that he’s probably leaving the paper to go on an extended book leave. He has a deal with a publisher to put out a massive personal narrative of corruption in the solar industry, rounding up years of reporting on the subject. He’ll be on a two-year leave of absence from the paper while he does more extensive reporting and writes the book.
With Jeremy going on book leave, the assistant chief job needs to be filled for at least a year and it’s been offered to me by the New York editors and seconded by Stuart.
It’s a big deal to move from reporting to running a bureau. It’s the right career move, but I haven’t committed yet to taking the post. The last thing I need is for everyone in the office to know about it before I’ve made a decision. Jesus, Stuart almost blurted it out like it was a done deal.
Isn’t it? Assistant chief is a huge promotion and most reporters wouldn’t think twice.
I don’t have time to think about a new job right now. I’m trying to do the one I have.
I call Claudia to see how she’s coming along in trying to land me an invitation to Ken’s weekend event. I pretty much told Stuart that my going out there this weekend was a lock—it needs to happen.
“Hi love, I was just talking about you. Were your ears burning?”
“Oh, yes, definitely. I wanted to follow up on the weekend event you mentioned.”
“Yes, I knew that’s why you called. And we’re all set. They’d love to have you and your wife or girlfriend. I told them I was pretty sure you’re not married… yet. I didn’t see a ring the other night, and Shane never said anything.”
“No, not married.” Jesus, this again?
“So, girlfriend it is. They can’t wait to meet her.”
Hold up. When did this become a plus-one situation?
“D’you think it would be okay if I just came by myself? I’m not sure my… plus-one is free this weekend.”
My mind returns to our conversation from last night when I’d unequivocally told her I’d like to come alone. She’d completely invented the idea of a girlfriend—or a wife?—and I’m not about to complicate things by having some date trailing after me all weekend long. Not any of the women I’ve dated this decade, that’s for sure. And definitely not Linden, despite Stuart’s suggestion.
I can hear her pout over the phone. “Oh, that’s a shame. Well, I’ll have to check and see if there’s another weekend that would work. This time it’s just a small gathering of some of their couple friends. Okay, let’s see… I know they’ll be in Europe next month and Ken has a golf tournament, so maybe in the summer…”