“God, I’m still not used to the cold here,” Dylan said, rubbing his arms to try and warm up.
“Where are you from, anyway?” I asked. He didn’t have a recognizable accent nor any physical features that gave him away.
“Florida,” he said and I laughed.
“Yeah, no wonder you’re freezing your ass off here,” I said as we queued up. I ordered an Americano with five shots—I needed it, despite the barista’s protests—and paid for Dylan’s drip coffee too.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said as we sat down at a table in the back corner of the café.
“And you didn’t have to invite me out for coffee, but you did,” I said. “I don’t know what your investment in this is, but clearly you’ve got something to say. So, what is it?”
“I just want you to really think this through.”
“Why? What does it matter to you?”
“I like you, Jeff. There are a lot of us out there who respect what you do—er, what you did—and want to see you do more of it.”
“I understand that and that’s nice of you to say and all but what does that have to do with the thing with Avery? Me shooting some bullshit documentary series on the guy who cost me everything isn’t exactly going to lead to hard, breaking journalism.”
“Maybe not right away, no. But think about the long game. If you do this and do it well, it would show a lot of good faith to the public. You could be back on top before you know it, maybe with your own show on NewSpin, or something even bigger than that if you really wanted it,” Dylan said.
“Maybe. Or more likely, it’ll be a complete disaster, I’ll end up punching Avery in his smart-ass mouth on camera, and then I’ll go to jail for aggravated assault.”
“Dude, what’s with your hatred for him, anyway? I really don’t get it,” Dylan said, sipping his steaming coffee.
“I don’t know. I guess it’s not really him I hate so much as everything he stands for and the way he does what he does.”
“Hey, everyone’s gotta make a buck, right?”
“Yeah, I guess, but I think there’s a line to be drawn when making that buck is causing real, lasting damage to the industry and to the country.”
“Do you really think that’s what’s happening, though? And I mean, seriously, Jeff, there are much more nefarious people behind that transition you could be going after.”
“So not only are you a brown noser, you’re also an apologist?” I asked and Dylan laughed.
“Not exactly. I just think you have to make lemonade when life gives you lemons, you know? Sometimes we all have to do things we don’t want to do. That’s life.”
“How the hell did you get so wise? What are you, like, 20?”
“I’m 28,” Dylan answered.
“Point still stands.”
“See, this is why people like Avery came after you. You’re too stuck in your ways and you’re too quick to write off us young’uns.”
“Are you calling me stubborn?”
“I’m only calling things as I see them.”
“Look, Dylan… I appreciate you trying to save me from myself, but I don’t think you really understand. Avery is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. I’d sooner live under a bridge than work with him.”
“Well, then be my guest.”
“I didn’t mean that. It’s just… It’s beneath me. No offense, but that sort of thing is something someone like you should be doing at the start of their career. I’m 40 years old and I used to helm the biggest news show in the country. Forgive me for feeling like a documentary on Avery is a waste of my time and talent.”
“Maybe it is, but like I said, you’ve got to pick your battles. Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face, Jeff,” Dylan said. Maybe he’s right, I thought. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to work with Avery. It would certainly be better than going back to being a beat reporter or an ambulance chaser.
“At the very least, this project will keep your name in the public realm and in a much better way than it’s been thrown about since your little moment,” Dylan said.
“That’s true. Any bit of redemption I can grab now would be useful.”
“Exactly, that’s my point. You need to win public trust back. Maybe some of them agreed with the things you said, but I think most of them didn’t take too well to essentially being told they were stupid for following the trends of the media,” Dylan said. “I mean, isn’t our whole basis for existence that people can trust us? You flat-out told them they can’t anymore. I think you might’ve done more damage than good.”
“Hey, I never called anyone stupid.”
“Maybe not explicitly, but you definitely implied it. No matter how you slice it, it didn’t look good.”
“Fair enough.”
“And you know, if this thing with Avery works and takes off, which honestly I think it will, you could find yourself doing something much bigger than even you’d imagined. Bigger than GNN.”
“Like what?” I asked, genuinely curious, because I couldn’t think of anything better than that.
“Hard to say. I guess you’ll have to see what happens.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you had some sort of stake in this.”
“Maybe I do,” Dylan said with a wink. “I might be cute, but that doesn’t mean I’m not also cunning.”
“I like you, kid,” I said, smiling at him. He was smarter than I gave him credit for, and maybe the whole awkward thing was part of his act. It disarmed people, made them trust him. “You’re going places, I promise you.”
“I sure hope so. And I hope you are, too.”
“That makes two of us,” I sighed.
“Well, we should probably get back. You ready to go?” Dylan asked. I hadn’t even touched my coffee yet but it had already turned lukewarm.
“Yeah, sure.” We set off into the cold again and raced back to the NewSpin office, Dylan’s size giving him the advantage of being able to bob in and out of the hundreds of people that were now on the streets that hadn’t been there earlier this morning.
Inside the office, Dylan gave me a smile, whispered “Good luck,” and went back to his desk. Taking a deep breath to steel myself for the conversation I knew I needed to have with Lee, I walked to his office and knocked on the door. For once, he didn’t seem to be preoccupied so he waved me in.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were stepping out? I’d kill for a caramel macchiato right about now,” Lee said, nodding at my cup.
“Oh, sorry, it was a little impromptu.”
“I’m joking. So, I take it Dylan talked some sense into you?”
“You put him up to it, didn’t you?”
“A magician never reveals his secrets.”
“Right,” I said, sitting down in front of him again. “Look, I won’t lie to you, Lee. I hate every part of this idea. Literally every part.”
“Understandable. Can’t say I’d feel any differently if I were you.”
“But I don’t have much of a choice. And this could really lead to something. At the very least it’ll make me look a little bit less like a shit heel publicly than I do now.”
“Smart way to look at it. So, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Not yet. I need details, Lee. Hard, fast details. What exactly are we doing with this?”
“Well, we’re still sorting all of that out, but right now what we’re looking at is about a month-long assignment. You’ll tail Avery during that time with as big of a crew as he’ll allow, ask him questions, get to know him. Show the audience he’s not just some cunning master manipulator. You’ll show them he’s a real person underneath all of the fake smiles and sheen. I’ve seen your human interest pieces on The Edge. If anyone can humanize Kile Avery, it’s you.”
“I think you might have more faith in me than I do,” I said and Lee chuckled. “I’m not sure there’s much human about him, honestly.”
“Well, now it’s your job to find
out. Look, I know it won’t be easy for you, and it won’t be easy for him, either, but if I didn’t think this could work I never would’ve brought you two together. You’ve got talent, Jeff, no one can deny that. Now’s a great time to put it to good use, really stretch outside of your comfort zone.”
“Oh, this is stretching it, that’s for sure,” I said. “Wait, do you mean to tell me Avery doesn’t know I’m attached to this?”
“Let’s just say I omitted that part of the truth,” Lee said with a wink and I couldn’t help laughing. “He’d never have agreed to it either if he knew about you. And it wasn’t totally a lie because I still don’t have a reporter for this project, do I?”
“Alright, fine, you’ve twisted my arm enough. I’m in,” I said, regretting the words even as they left my mouth.
“I’m thrilled to hear it. That said, I need you to go and talk to Kile, like a preliminary interview sort of thing,” he said.
“When?”
“Today. Like, in the next twenty to thirty minutes,” he said.
“Alright,” I sighed. “Does he at least know we’re coming?”
“Not yet but he will after I call and tell him.”
“Great. A double whammy.”
“Don’t worry about it, it’ll be fine. You’re not going to regret this, Jeff,” Lee said, extending his hand for me to shake. I took it in mine and prayed I hadn’t just signed a deal with the devil.
6
Kile
A loud knock at the door startled me and if I’d been sweating with nervousness before, it was nothing compared to now. I’d been doing TV appearances for years and my face had been all over the internet for longer than that, so I really should’ve been comfortable doing a simple one-on-one introductory interview but for some reason my nerves seemed to have gotten the better of me.
I stood from the sofa and went to the door. Looking through the peephole, I didn’t see anyone standing outside, so I opened it and nearly screamed when I came face to face with Jeff Taylor.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked.
“I could ask myself the same question,” he said. He wore a cream-colored, long-sleeved polo shirt and jeans. He looked every bit the outdated, stuffy, and somehow still sexy old man I thought he was.
“How did you get my address?”
“Lee gave it to me.”
“He what? Lee who?”
“Lee Noble. Didn’t he tell you?”
“He told me a reporter was coming, but he didn’t tell me it was going to be you,” I said, my mind racing. None of this made sense. The last time I’d seen Jeff Taylor he’d been frozen in front of the cameras looking like an idiot and now here he stood at my door, his stupid curls shining in the light from the hallway with a triumphant smile on his face. Lee told me he’d be sending someone over to do a preliminary interview and to go over specifics of the project with me before we got started in earnest, so I’d expected one of his low-level lackeys, but Taylor? None of this made sense.
“Well, surprise, you’re looking at the newest NewSpin employee who just so happens to be here to interview you,” Jeff said and I burst out laughing.
“You’re joking. This is some sort of hoax to get back at me, isn’t it?”
“As much as I wish I was joking, I’m not,” Jeff said. “What you see is what you get. It’s gonna be me, you, and a camera crew for the next few weeks.”
“This is unbelievable.”
“Look at that, we do agree on something,” Jeff said, his smile widening. “So, are you going to invite me in so we can get this over with, or are we gonna keep standing here talking about how ridiculous this is?”
“Or, a third option: I close the door and you leave and pretend like this never happened. Because this most definitely isn’t going to work.”
“I don’t think Lee would be very happy to hear that. Nor would his bosses at NewSpin.”
“Fucking hell,” I swore under my breath as I stepped aside to let him in. He took a long look around the condo, no doubt storing every little detail to use it against me at some point. He let out a long, irritating whistle as he admired it.
“Wow, this is a nice place you’ve got here, Kile,” he said, his arms held out wide as he turned in a full circle. “Is this what blood money can buy these days?” he asked before he sat down on the white leather sofa in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the city. He sighed and made himself comfortable. If I’d hated him before it paled in comparison to how much I hated him now. I made a mental note to make sure I washed the leather after he left. I couldn’t have the place smelling like prune juice. “Though it does kind of look like an operating room. What’s with all of the white?”
I sat in the matching leather chair across from him and looked him up and down. He smiled back at me, a little too nicely, and I scoffed.
“Why are you here? Why are you doing this?” I asked.
“Didn’t have much of a choice. Neither do you, I take it,” he said.
“We always have choices in life.”
“Very true. And I made a choice. Now you’ve gotta make one, too,” he said as he pulled a tape recorder, a small pad of paper, and a pen out of his pocket. “You can work with me on this and try to make it as smooth as possible to build your bullshit platform, or you can call it off and we go our separate ways and back to our comparatively tiny corners. What’s it gonna be?”
“I hate you. Like, so much more than you’ll ever know,” I said, my face burning. He and Lee had trapped me and I’d never seen it coming, and now I had no choice but to go through with this. For the first time, I regretted kissing his ass at the press conference earlier in the week. Clearly, it’d been a fool’s gold moment that had now come back to haunt me.
“Well, since we’re being honest, I’m not particularly fond of you, either. That said, I can go if you want. The ball’s in your court,” he said.
“No. Let’s just do this. The sooner we get started, the sooner it’s over.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Taylor said, his smile widening. “Do you mind if I record this for the sake of accuracy?”
“Whatever you need to do,” I said. He was actually getting off on getting under my skin like this. It must’ve been so gratifying for him, revenge in a way, getting back at me for the way I’d embarrassed him on national TV—twice. But screw that, I wouldn’t let him win, there was no way I’d let him have the last laugh, much less keep control. This was going to be my show and I was damn well going to run it as such. He’d just have to learn to get in line.
“So, I guess we should go over the preliminary stuff,” he said. “We’re looking at about a three week production. We’re gonna shoot enough material for at least six episodes, but maybe more depending on how juicy things get. You with me so far?” he asked, looking up from his notebook.
“Yes,” I snapped. Great. Three weeks with this smug asshole and he hadn’t even gotten to the worst parts yet. There had to be more coming.
“Good. Of course, you’ll keep control over the level of access we have. Speaking of, I guess we need to figure out the crew. What are you comfortable with?”
“What do you need?”
“I’d say at least six camera guys and maybe two more to do sound.”
“No. Three at the most, I don’t want my house turning into a zoo.”
“It’s a little bit late for that, don’t you think?” he asked, nodding down at the zebra-print rug on the white tile floor beneath us.
“Clever,” I said, giving him my most sardonic smile.
“Have to be if you’re gonna make it in this business. So, fine, three. I can live with that. What about one sound guy?”
“Fine,” I said. “What else do you need from me?” The sooner I got this over with and got Jeff Taylor out of my house, the better. I couldn’t wait to get Lee on the phone to chew him out.
“Well, I thought we’d talk. Get to know each other a little bit since we’re going
to be spending a lot of time together over the next few weeks,” he said.
“Please, you’d sooner get to know a case of syphilis than get to know me,” I said and Jeff laughed.
“Very true, but I don’t have the luxury of choice in this case.”
“What do you want to know?”
“What’s your day-to-day routine like? When do you get up? What do you eat for breakfast? That sort of thing,” he said and I couldn’t help rolling my eyes.
“Really? That’s what this is all about?”
“It really, honestly is. Trust me, I wouldn’t be here asking these asinine questions if I didn’t have to be. I need to get a sense of what your day is like so I can plan out our approach for the show.”
“I hate this. Every part of it,” I said, again speaking without thinking. Jeff chuckled.
“You think I’m thrilled about it? Look, I don’t like you any more than you like me, but I can be professional. I hope you can do the same,” he said, crossing one leg over the other.
“I don’t think it’s me that’s in any danger of acting unprofessionally,” I said and Taylor grimaced, which brought a smile to my face. Maybe he was right. Maybe I did need to make the best of this, and maybe that meant making his life as miserable as he was sure to make mine. If I had to do this, I might as well have some fun with it, right?
“So, I get up around 6 every morning, I make myself a large cup of coffee, and I catch up on my Grindr messages,” I said and Jeff blanched. Good. He was so uptight, always seemed that way, so part of me looked forward to shocking him as much as possible.
“Are you serious?”
“No, you ass. Of course I’m not,” I laughed. “Jesus, you really do think I’m some sort of deviant sexual predator, don’t you?”
“Am I wrong?” he asked and I glared at him.
“I don’t think you really want or even need to know this stuff. So let’s cut to the chase. If this is going to work, which I’m highly skeptical it will, there’s one rule you need to remember: don’t bore me. I don’t have the time or the patience for that; I have much better things to do.”
Clickbait (Off the Record Book 1) Page 6
