The sound of his voice having his bro conversation with whomever he’s talking to snaps me out of my momentary insanity. He’s a player. He sweet talks whoever’s in his orbit to get what he wants. And his words to Jeremy come back to me, “It’s a mistake… she’s too green…”
Down deep, I know he doesn’t care that I blew it. He’s been expecting it since the day I walked in the door. He loves being right, and now I’ve given him exactly what he’s been craving. I tell him he doesn’t need to push back his plans with his source. I’m good.
But when he pats me on the shoulder in a reassuring way, I hate that I can feel the heat from his hand long after he’s walked out the door.
6
Jack
It’s possible that her temper is going to do her in, but I think it just might make her a great reporter. It requires a certain kind of tenacity to do the job well, and I’m glad to see she’s angry about her missed scoop, even if it means she’s misplacing her anger on me.
And hell if she didn’t look sexy, all fired up and raging at me, her cheeks pink and her lips turned into an angry snarl. So damned sexy. Too bad I don’t date reporters. Actually, scratch that. It’s a very good thing I don’t date reporters. She would spell trouble for me.
It’s not that I categorically dismiss people in the news business as being undatable. I should amend that. I don’t date colleagues. Or sources or executives on my beat or anyone else’s. Too much conflict of interest.
I tried dating a publicist for one of the smaller media companies on my beat and it blew up in my face. We slept together once and when I tried to leave it at that, she stopped returning my calls. All fine except when one of my bigger companies was trying to buy that little company, I needed information. She stonewalled and I learned a valuable lesson. There are enough women in the world that I don’t need to mix work and dating.
But man, if I did…
I have to stop myself from imagining what someone with her fiery personality might be like in bed.
So. Stop. Imagining. It.
Maybe I’ve been a little too hard on her, hence the dick comment earlier. But she’s an accident waiting to happen, as she’s just proven today. This is exactly what I warned Jeremy about. He was doing her a disservice by promoting her too fast and handing her a reporting job before she was ready. He was just setting her up to fail. I don’t know why he couldn’t see that.
Maybe that’s why I’ve tried to make sure she wasn’t missing anything in the morning feeds that would make her look bad.
Is that what I’ve been doing?
Actually no, it’s not. I’m just obsessive and I get to work early. I go through the feeds because it keeps me sharp and I might find my way to something good before anyone else gets to it. That’s why I’ve been able to stay on top. It has nothing to do with trying to help her.
Keep pretending you don’t like the feisty banter when she gets frustrated after you’ve done half her job.
Whatever. I need to meet my source and I don’t want to be late. I need to convince her to put me in a room with her boss, the CEO of one of the biggest companies I cover. I’ve been writing a big profile piece about him, but I need access to his private life to round it out, and she’s the key to making it happen.
7
Linden
I’m walking past Jeremy’s office when he looks up and signals me to come in. I really don’t want to, because there’s a fifty percent chance I’ll cry if I try to speak and I can’t be the reporter who cries.
“Come, sit,” Jeremy says, turning around so I can compose myself. He may be one of the most senior people in the bureau, but he has a heart bigger than anyone.
Obediently, I sit in the chair opposite Jeremy’s desk. He’s looking out the window toward the ocean, but since it’s dark out, the only view is city lights.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah. All good.”
“Sure, fine. Look, I don’t want to belabor it, but you know you can’t let stuff like this happen.”
“I know. Trust me, I really thought I could get them to talk.”
“Right, okay. This will blow over, you’ll write your story, and this little company won’t be your biggest problem anymore. You just need find something you care about and dig in. That’s where the best stories come from.”
He looks at his computer, then starts to smile. He turns the screen around so I can see what he’s looking at—an image of a large slobbery dog. “That’s Zeke. He’s part coonhound, part Rhodesian Ridgeback.”
“Cool dog.”
“Sure is,” he says, turning the screen back around and looking at me. “I know you’re driven and motivated. I’m not worried about you here. You’re gonna do great.”
“Thanks, Jeremy. I don’t know what I’d do here without you.”
“Aw, you’ll manage fine.”
“That makes it sound like you’re going somewhere.”
“Not today, not for sure. But I put in to take another book leave. My publisher’s ready, but I have to jump through some hoops before New York will let me go.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. What’s the book about?”
He shakes his head. “I can’t say anything yet, but the minute the ink’s dry on my contract, I’ll let you know.” He goes back to shuffling papers on his desk. Whatever he’s looking for, he doesn’t seem to be finding it. “Anyhow, everything worked out on Zumalife?”
I don’t want to talk about it anymore, but it’s Jeremy, so I tell him. “I’m already set with the CEO for a sit-down tomorrow.”
“Exactly, just how I knew you’d be.”
Still, I feel like I could use some advice. “What was it, the moment when you knew you were good at your job?” I ask.
He leans back in his chair and runs a hand over his chin in a classic thinking pose. “You know, it was when I found a story I couldn’t let go of, something I had to pursue because I knew it was important. When I was reporting that story, I knew I was good.” He gestures to a book on his shelf that he wrote. “That story turned into this book.”
I know the book. It sits proudly on the top shelf, standing up so the book cover is visible. I also know this book was on the bestseller list for months, but I hadn’t ever been aware that its origin was a story Jeremy wrote for the Examiner.
Looking at the cover, I feel almost reverential, like it’s something I can’t possibly reach out and touch. Jeremy takes it off the shelf and hands it to me. “This is what can happen when you follow a lead, even if you’re not sure where it will go. You’re welcome to take it home if you want to have a read.”
I look at the title, Hard Choices; One Man’s Quest to Find His Mother’s Killer, and nod, thanking Jeremy and taking the book with me. I vow to read it when I get home, even if I need to stay up all night to do it. I need to understand what that kind of passion looks like because I can’t seem to find my own, and I can’t bear another day like this one.