by Nic Tatano
“And … how much more would you need to make?”
I shrug. “Everything’s negotiable. But I think, oh, a half-million base salary per year would be a good starting point. Considering you make considerably more. I could bring a lot more politicians into the fold. So maybe there could be some bonuses as well for clients I recruit.”
He slowly nods, obviously figuring out he has no choice. “Okay, Madison, you’ve got a deal. You’ll clean out your desk today?”
“Consider it done.” I lean back and pick up the menu. “Okay, while I understand the process, I’ve gotta know … who came up with the idea and the way to do it? You or Senator Collier?”
“My stepfather. He knew I was frustrated as a reporter and wanted a way to take money from his campaign and keep it in the family. So he came up with the idea of a slush fund that would bankroll third party candidates to guarantee his re-election while depositing several million dollars into my bank account. Of course I kick back some to him through the same shell corporation that’s in my mother’s name. I’m amazed that you found it. My compliments.”
“Thank you.”
“The way I look at it, Madison, is that people contributed to the Collier campaign because they wanted him to win. And he spent the money to do just that. The fact that he kept money in the family makes no difference to the people who supported him. For them, the bottom line was keeping him in office, and they didn’t care how it was done. It’s a win-win situation for our family.”
“Interesting way to look at things. But it does make sense. The ends do often justify the means.”
“Glad you can see it from my point of view.” Jamison smiles at me as an FBI agent dressed as a waiter arrives at our table. He looks up at the agent. “Oh, can you give us a few minutes?”
I stand up. “I don’t need any more time. I know what I want.” I nod at my photographer who has been sitting at a table in the corner. He picks his camera up from the floor and begins shooting video as I get out of the way.
The agent pulls his ID from his pocket and flips it open in front of Jamison. “I’m Special Agent Kirk Butler, FBI. Jamison Rogers, you are under arrest for embezzlement and violation of federal election laws. You have the right to remain silent.”
The color drains from Jamison’s face as another agent arrives. They finish reading him his rights, handcuff him and start to lead him out of the restaurant. I’m at the door, smiling with my arms folded. Jamison stops and locks eyes with me. “How could you?”
“Because you’re nothing more than a common thief. And I’m a reporter after a big story that will make the world a better place. This is a win-win. For me.”
I arrive home around seven-thirty after breaking my story. I stayed at the studio since a major story like this demanded I be on the set. Besides, Nick is up and around, having traded in his wheelchair for a walker, so he hasn’t needed me to rush home.
I find him along with Rory, Tish and A.J. wearing party hats and blowing noisemakers as I walk in the door. Rory pops a bottle of champagne as they all cheer for me. “You kicked the Senator’s ass, Freckles! Congratulations!”
“Finally got your great white whale,” says Tish.
“She harpooned the sonofabitch,” adds A.J.
Nick moves forward and gives me a hug with one arm as he braces himself on the walker. “Really proud of you, Madison.”
“Hey, without your idea to look in the other direction it never would have happened.”
“Actually, Bumper gave me the idea. So don’t forget to thank your cat.”
I pick up the cat from his spot in the window and he meows. “You’re quite the detective, kitty.” I look at the dining room table and see it filled with goodies from A.J.’s deli. “Okay, enough of this, I’m starved. Let’s eat.”
Nick is on the phone talking to his partner in the other room, which gives me a chance to chat with my friends about the final loose end in my life. “So, what do I do about Jamison?”
Rory laughs. “You don’t have to do anything. He’s going to jail, right?”
“Yeah, but not for as long as he should. The FBI agent said he ‘flipped like a pancake’ on his stepfather in return for a reduced sentence. So he will be out eventually.”
A.J. takes a seat on the couch with a glass of wine. “Yeah, but Jamison will have moved on by then. He’ll make a new girlfriend in prison.”
Tish wrinkles her face. “Ewwww. Anyway, Madison, Rory’s right. You don’t have to do anything.”
“I meant about Nick. Do I tell him? And if I do, how?”
Rory shakes her head. “I vote no.”
“Me too,” adds A.J. “Leave it alone.”
Tish takes my hand. “There’s no reason to do so. You wouldn’t tell him about old boyfriends anyway, so why bother?”
“Good point.”
Nick comes back to the living room. “So, now that you’ve broken the ultimate story, what will you do to top it?”
“I’ve got an idea.”
I head into Nick’s bedroom carrying two glasses of champagne, finding him sitting up on the bed reading a book. “Help me finish this, will ya? It’s no good once the fizz is gone.”
He takes one from me. “Thank goodness I’m done with the medication.” He clinks my glass. “Cheers to the best reporter in America.”
“Thank you. You didn’t tell me you were done with the pills.”
“Yeah. Rory took me to the doctor this morning and he said I didn’t need them anymore. And other than the fact that I still need a walker for a while, he gave me a clean bill of health. I can start desk duty at the precinct next week.”
“Hmmm. Y’know, when I talked to him last week he said you would still need some physical therapy.”
Nick shakes his head. “Nope. Doc said I’m done going to that facility.”
“I wasn’t talking about that.” I put my glass on the nightstand, sit on the edge of the bed, lean forward and give him a long kiss. “There are some different exercises you need.” I swing one leg over him and straddle him. “This is home-based physical therapy. We need to get your heart rate up. Y’know, some cardio would be good for you.”
His hands come up, slide under my blouse and rest gently on my waist, his touch sending my pulse rocketing. “Ah. The doctor didn’t tell me about this.”
“Well, this isn’t exactly something you’d find on webMD.com.” I give him another kiss and run my hands under his shirt, savoring the touch of his toned chest while stealing his breath.
“Madison, I’m not sure my legs are strong enough—”
“Shhh.” I put one finger on his lips. “Let Madison do all the work. You do know I like to be in charge, right?”
“Right.”
“Good. Now lay back, relax and let me take you. That’s an order, Officer.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
One month later …
MADISON SHAW NAMED “MOST ADMIRED AMERICAN WOMAN”
By Kelly Driver
She bottle feeds orphaned kittens, nurses a seriously wounded cop back to health, provides key testimony for the newly-passed adoption bill, and oh, in her spare time, breaks the biggest political story of the year that takes down one of the country’s most powerful United States Senators.
It’s no wonder that America admires network reporter Madison Shaw.
“Honestly, I’m humbled by that title, but I’m nothing special,” said Shaw upon learning of the poll that has people looking up to her. “And to be honest, if I hadn’t taken in those kittens none of this would have happened.”
By now the country is familiar with the story of the driven journalist who basically “got stuck” taking care of a litter of orphaned kittens, discovered while on a Friday night story. And the resulting events that took place as a result. What people might not know is how this simple twist of fate changed her. “I will admit I was a total bitch in the newsroom before I found those kittens and most of my co-workers probably hated me. My career was all that mat
tered. But the cats gave me a wake-up call about what was really important in my life. I’m a completely different person now. I’m not real proud of the way I used to be, but glad I saw the light.”
While the story of the bottle-fed kittens went viral, what wasn’t known is that Shaw was channeling Florence Nightingale as she nursed her boyfriend, a New York City cop, back to health after being shot. “We really didn’t know each other that well,” said Officer Nick Marino, who nearly died after a shootout left him temporarily unable to walk. “We’d only had three dates yet she moved me into her house, remodeled it to accommodate a wheelchair and got the network to let her do live shots from her living room so she could spend more time taking care of me. As long as I live I’ll never be able to repay her for that. She’s the finest person I’ve ever known with an incredible heart.”
Shaw is also revered among some Congressional circles, as her emotional heartfelt testimony was instrumental in passing the adoption bill. But the icing on the cake was her takedown of Senator Joe Collier, long known as “Teflon Joe.” Her investigation resulted in a veteran member of Congress and his family receiving jail sentences for embezzling campaign funds. “He was my great white whale,” said Shaw. “So many reporters had tried to find the smoking gun on the guy over the years; I’m just glad to expose a common criminal. Of course the idea for where to look came from my boyfriend, who got it from the cat.”
She laughs when asked about the upcoming special election to fill Collier’s seat. “A few political bigwigs actually contacted me suggesting I run. But I think that was a clever ruse to get me out of the media. They don’t want me digging up dirt on anyone else. Too bad, you guys will have to keep looking over your shoulders if you’ve broken the law because I’m not going away.”
Shaw seems at total peace as she strokes the fur of the tortoiseshell kitten she adopted, named Bumper, who is blind in one eye and can’t jump due to a deformed leg. “This kitten is really attached to me. He waits for me in the window to come home every day. And I can’t wait to see him. It’s amazing how everything that happened came about because of the kittens. I met Nick when I ran a stop sign trying to get home to feed them and he pulled me over. Shelters got a ton of donations and pet adoptions are up. Kids that might not have homes are getting adopted. And a corrupt United States Senator is in prison because Bumper walked backwards to get out of the way of Nick’s wheelchair and he gets the idea for me to reverse-engineer Collier’s financial statements. They need to change the name of the butterfly effect to the kitten effect. At least in my case.”
As for what the future holds, Shaw no longer considers it. “When you’re in love with a cop you live every day to the fullest and take nothing for granted. The present is all that matters. I love my job, have a terrific boyfriend, great friends and a pet that turned my house into a home and me into a real human being. They say you can’t have it all, but I do. I have it all.”
Nick is busy fiddling with a long wand at the kitchen table, obviously making another toy for Bumper as I finish the article. “Wow, that was really nice. You read it already?”
“Yeah.”
“Well?”
He puts the wand on his lap and shrugs. “I thought it was nice.”
I sit down next to him. “Nice? That’s all? Seriously? That was about the most glowing thing anyone could write.”
“Yeah, but I hate it when reporters have errors in their stories. Or leave stuff out.”
“What got left out?”
“Well, it would have been nice if you said we have the best sex ever. Since you say it to me every night.”
I slap him on the shoulder. “That’s private! I’m not going to tell that to the whole world!” I drop my voice a bit. “Though I did tell Rory after she heard me scream from across the street.”
“Well, at least someone knows.”
“Typical man, wanting the world know you’re a stud in the bedroom. Meanwhile, what errors are you talking about?”
“The part about me. The writer called me your boyfriend.”
“You are my boyfriend.” Suddenly my face tightens. “Aren’t you?”
He pulls the wand from his lap and holds it up, dangling something shiny on the end of a string in front of me.
An engagement ring.
“Madison, I think the term fiancée is more accurate. Don’t you?”
I reach for it and he yanks it away. “Hey! I’m not a cat! Gimme that thing!”
He holds it in front of me and I pull the ring off the thread holding it. A beautiful antique platinum ring with a solitaire diamond, probably about one carat. “It’s my mother’s. I hope it’s okay. I don’t make a lot on a cop’s salary and can’t afford to get you what you really deserve. Maybe someday.”
My eyes well up as I look at him. “It’s perfect, Nick. And I don’t need outrageously expensive jewelry if I’ve got you.” I hand him the ring. “Put it on me.”
He takes the ring and smiles as I extend my hand. “So I assume that means yes? That you’ll marry me?”
“Yes, okay? Now put it on me before I change my mind.”
“I can’t get down on one knee—”
“Oh for God’s sake, shut the hell up and ring me!”
He slides the ring onto my finger, a perfect fit. I extend my hand into a ray of sunlight, and smile as it sparkles. “It’s gorgeous. And I’m honored to wear your mother’s ring.” I get up and slide onto his lap, wrap my arms around his neck and give him a long kiss. Bumper meows and I reach down to pick him up.
“We’re one big happy family, huh?”
“You know, come to think of it, the article was a bit premature.”
“Huh?”
“Actually, I misspoke when I said I had it all. I was premature.”
“So now you have it all.”
“Almost. I need one more thing.” I put Bumper down, get up and turn on the stereo to play our song. Belinda Carlisle’s voice fills the room as I extend my hand to Nick. “C’mon. Dance with me.”
“I’m not that steady yet.”
“You can lean on me. Always.” I take his hands and pull him out of the chair, then wrap my arms around his waist. He puts his arms around my shoulders as we lock eyes, swaying to the music. “Now I have it all.”
Acknowledgments
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any cat, living or dead, is not coincidental and is purely intentional.
Most writers use this part of a book to thank an editor, cover artist, family and friends. But since this is a book about cats, I felt it would be proper to spotlight the two real cats who inspired the kitten named Bumper.
Bumper is a kitten facing challenges, as he is an orphan who has to be bottle fed. This part of his character comes from our Siamese cat Pandora, who was with us for seventeen years. My wife found her, abandoned by the mother cat, when she was just a few days old. We fed her first with an eyedropper and then a bottle. Since my wife is a teacher and I was a reporter at the time, I was able to run home during lunch to feed her. I got to spend more time with her as a kitten. When she opened her eyes she imprinted on me and became very attached, a true one-person cat. At the time we didn’t know she was a Siamese, as that breed is born all white and gets the points (mask, socks and tail) as they become adults. Pandora was a highly entertaining cat, exhibiting two personalities depending on our house guests. She would either be a sweet, purring cat or turn into the Tasmanian devil. One friend said we should have named her “Sybil” after the literary character with multiple personalities. But Pandora fit her well since she was more curious than any cat I’ve ever had.
Bumper is blind in one eye and runs into things, which is a trait shared by our current cat, Gypsy. The little tortoiseshell tabby showed up at our house one day, meowing at me through the window and looking hungry. I fed her and she stuck around. The vet guessed she was about five. She was already fixed so she either ran away or was abandoned. She’s been with us about six years and is an incredibly sw
eet cat. We named her Gypsy because when she first arrived I would often see her all over the neighborhood.
A while ago I noticed she started walking around the perimeter of rooms rather than taking a direct path across them. I thought it was one of her cat quirks until I moved some furniture one day while cleaning and saw her walk face first into a door when she took a different route. The vet confirmed that she had cataracts in one eye, which affected her depth perception. She no longer jumps, as she can’t really judge distances correctly and was missing her targets. So we do our best to keep things in the same place so that she can get around without any problems. She’s very demanding of attention, and spent a good deal of time on my lap while I wrote this book.
I’ve always had cats since I was a kid, and perhaps being an only child I understand their independence more than most. To me I’ve always thought they were angels keeping an eye on us, reporting back to Heaven about how we treat little animals. While that is speculation, what’s clear is that in my case, a home without a cat is just a house.
Also by Nic Tatano
Twitter Girl
Cover Girl
It Girl
Boss Girl
Wing Girl
Jillian Spectre & the Dreamweaver
The Adventures of Jillian Spectre
About the Author
I’ve always been a writer of some sort, having spent my career working as a reporter, anchor or producer in television news. Fiction is a lot more fun, since you don’t have to deal with those pesky things known as facts.
I spent fifteen years as a television news reporter and anchor. My work has taken me from the floors of the Democratic and Republican National Conventions to Ground Zero in New York to Jay Leno’s backyard. My stories have been seen on NBC, ABC and CNN. I still work as a freelance network field producer for FOX, NBC, CBS and ABC.
I grew up in the New York City metropolitan area and now live on the Gulf Coast where I will never shovel snow again. I’m happily married to a math teacher and we share our wonderful home with our tortoiseshell tabby cat, Gypsy.
