Romancing the News: A Lesbian Office Romance

by Violette Grey

  This grabbed my attention. "You know, I just read about that in the Denver Post. They said that, although it will increase the amount of parking for the area, there are concerns about a plan to sell some of the spaces for private usage, like they do in New York City. You know, a real estate purchase."

  Both Greg and Joanna stared at me, and I blushed under their scrutiny. Did I say something wrong?

  Joanna shot Greg a quick glance that he shied away from. "So this has been already covered extensively in the Post?"

  Something seemed stuck in my throat. I was not sure, but it looked as if she was not happy. Had she pursed her lips for a few seconds? Was her jaw clenched slightly? It was so fast, I was not sure I had even seen it. I weighed my options. I could lie and say that the article was not very extensive, which would only be half true. Or I could tell Joanna what I thought about it, that the writer had certainly done his or her due diligence, but, I had still seen holes in it.

  "Well..." I cleared my throat and looked from Greg to Joanna. I was nervous being put on the spot so soon. I did not want this to be Jason all over again. But this was what I did on the bus every day and it was just one stepping stone to moving into my dream job. "There was an article in the Post, yes, but what I noticed was that they could have done a better job covering it…" I bit my lower lip as I waited to see her reaction and then decided I had already put my feet in the water, I might as well take the plunge.

  “They left out anything about what you were talking about, where the money was coming from. People are under the impression that it will be a privately-owned structure, especially since they are talking about selling spaces with deeds and everything. But as I’m sure you know, it should to be a public parking lot, so they shouldn’t be able to sell spaces to private parties. Not if the taxpayers are footing the bill.”

  Joanna sat back in her chair and gazed at me, and try as I might, I could not help but shift in my seat. I felt like a horse being considered for purchase at an auction, and it made me very nervous.

  Finally, after several silent moments, Joanna sat back up and smiled. "Some very good points, Paulette,” she said finally. “So, they’ve written about it already? Well, then we'll just do it better." Her voice was confident. So much so that it made me feel that there was no question that we would, indeed, do a better job with it.

  "Paulette, I would like you to take a look at Greg's section of the article and give some feedback; if that is all right with you, of course, Greg."

  Greg looked back and forth between Joanna and me. He did not seem very happy with the situation, but he also probably did not want to undermine a superior. I was glad I was not in his shoes right then. As much as I did not mind looking over other people’s work, it usually happened because they came to me first. This was the first time I was asked to look at someone else’s work by a supervisor. I could not help but feel a little uncomfortable about it.

  "Sure, I'll e-mail it to you when I get back to my office.”

  I groaned inwardly. That was all I needed, to make an enemy in my first week of a new job.

  He stood and excused himself, his face still red when he closed the door behind him.

  After Greg left, Joanna said, "I appreciate your input with this. It's clear you have an eye for news." This made me smile. Finally, someone recognized my talent. And this woman was certainly a person I would love to have supporting me.

  "Thank you." It was all I could think of saying.

  Joanna leaned in conspiratorially. "Look, just between you and me, Greg is all right, but he needs some work. The problem is he is Blake Portley, the Editor-in-Chief of the magazine’s, nephew, so I don't want to rock the boat. You know how it is with any publication, we are all in the same boat and if one person looks like a leak, the whole boat will sink. Do you see what I mean?"

  I nodded.

  "OK, thank you, Paulette," Joanna said with finality. "That will be all."

  I stood and headed to the door.

  "Oh, Paulette, I forgot to tell you, we missed the window for the apprenticeship program; it closed just before we hired you. However, it will be available again next quarter.

  Disappointment poured over me like a waterfall, but I straightened my back. This was not the first time, nor would it probably be the last. I would just keep trying until it was my turn to be where I really wanted to be.

  Chapter Nine

  The bus rumbled along the busy street as I did my daily perusal of the day's newspaper and magazine articles. Today I was looking through political commentaries and articles, which made sense if I wanted to move up within the ranks at the Libertarian.

  One commentary caught my eye and I read through it quickly, making notes about the subject in a small spiral-bound notebook I had titled “Ideas”. I looked thoughtfully out the window as a plan began to take shape.

  I opened up the browser on my cell phone and began looking for anything and everything I could find on Bill 9432-The Hanover Project. I wanted to pound my head against the bus window as I tried to manipulate the web pages on the tiny screen. Unfortunately, there was little available about the Hanover Project, but I found enough to at least get me started.

  Every few minutes, I glanced out the window to see how far until my stop. It seemed like I would never get there, and I caught myself bouncing up and down on my seat like a little kid on her way to Disneyland.

  There might be a story here, I thought. I wanted to get it to Joanna as soon as I could.

  I jumped from my seat when the bus was a full block away from my stop, mashing the stop button as if it would make the bus get there quicker. I almost ran through the lobby to the elevator. If Joanna liked my idea, I would have something I could use to help me get into the apprenticeship program. I glanced at my notes and jotted down another point just as the doors opened.

  In the hallway outside the main office door, I took a deep breath. That’s all I needed, to go running in like a toddler. I wanted to be as collected and self-assured as Joanna, and so I would be.

  Joanna was already in her office, which did not surprise me at all; the woman worked night and day it seemed. I knocked on the door, my bag and notebook still in my hand.

  Joanna looked up from the report in front of her. "Oh, good morning, Paulette. Come on in."

  I could feel the nerves in my body tighten. What if she did not like my idea? Would she laugh me out of the office? Would she tell me that maybe journalism was not for me? Would she just be polite, nod her head, and then say something to just make me feel better, but then not really mean it? Or would she love it and tell me to get started on it right away?

  Well, I would never know if I just stood there.

  "I thought of and idea for an article and wanted to bring it to you to see what you thought. I'm hoping that it will give me a leg-up to get into the apprenticeship program."

  "Come on in. Have a seat,” Joanna said with an easy smile and a wave of her hand inviting me in. “Tell me what you have."

  "Well, I don’t know if you heard yet or not, but I’m sure you have…anyway, there’s a bill in committee right now to tear down the Hanover Building in Commerce City.”

  “You mean that huge apartment building for low-income families? Yeah, I know about the building. It was built in the eighties and there was a lot of hubbub about it back then, from what I heard, because it was erected in a higher-class neighborhood. Most of the people who lived there sold their houses for a fraction of their value and moved to other areas. I hadn’t heard anything about it lately, though.”

  “That’s the one.” I should not have been surprised she did not know about the bill; the only thing I could find about it that was outside of the governmental websites was that single commentary I had read this morning. “From what I read they want to tear the building down and put in a business complex with no mention of how to relocate the families that will be displaced. I still have some more research to do, but do you think there’s something there?”

  J
oanna had a thoughtful look on her face. "Well, this sounds like an interesting topic," she said finally. "I’ll tell you what…why don't you let me have a look into whether or not it's viable—you know how things can change on Capitol Hill from day to day, and sometimes from hour to hour. If there is something there, then you certainly can run with it."

  An overwhelming feeling of relief and excitement fell over me. "Oh, thank you, Joanna!" I tore the pages from my notebook with my notes and ideas and handed it to her.

  "I'll get back to you as soon as I can," Joanna said.

  I felt like I was walking on a cloud. This just might be the chance for my big break. If there was something to this rumor and I blew it up, there was no reason I would not be accepted in next quarter's apprenticeship program.

  ***

  "I can't believe she's looking into this story for me," I told Brook later that evening as I made dinner. "She is so helpful and supportive. I think this might help me move up into a journalist position, or at least into the apprenticeship program."

  "Yeah," Brook said impatiently, "Stir that sauce or it's going to burn."

  I looked down at the bubbling goo, now a deep brown color rather then the golden brown it should have been, and groaned. I had been so excited to talk about the possibility of another step toward my dream that I neglected dinner.

  "Damn it," I said. "It burned."

  "Don't worry about it," Brook said, her voice curt. "Let's just get this food on the table. I'm starving."

  I felt bad, but at least the rest of the dinner looked fine. Pork chops—originally honey-garlic pork chops, but that was not going to happen now—, mashed potatoes and gravy, and steamed veggies. I had left work in an amazing mood and decided to make a decent meal to celebrate the possibility of being allowed to write my first important article.

  I took out plates and silverware as Brook set the food on the table. Brook hated eating there, but I always insisted we eat homemade meals at the table and not in front of the TV. As a way of compromise, Brook had agreed as long as the TV was on so we wouldn't miss her favorite shows.

  "So, if Blake Portley accepts it, it might even go into one of the issues of the magazine!" I continued as I brought out the potatoes and placed the hot pot on a heat pad.

  Brook gave me a grunt that could have meant anything, but I was not about ready to let her ruin the euphoria I felt.

  "Just think," I added as I stared off into nothing, "I could end up as a political columnist, after this."

  The TV came on and the sounds of the theme song to some detective series blared through the room.

  "Let's just eat," Brook grumbled as she pulled a chair from the table and dropped into it. "I'm hungry."

  Brook hated when I tried to talk to her during her shows, so I kept quiet the rest of the meal. I would just call Daisy after dinner. At least she was interested in my life. I tried to push away the anger I felt, but it was not easy. Brook was not convinced I would ever make it as a journalist, but I would not allow her mood to turn mine around.

  Once dinner was eaten and the dishes cleared, I called Daisy and told her about my encounter with Joanna.

  "Oh, my God, girlfriend," Daisy shouted into the phone, "that's so great! I'm so proud of you."

  I could always count on Daisy to be there for me.

  Well, Brook would come around once I was accepted into the apprenticeship program. When that happened, the chances of actual on-the-job training was guaranteed. Then the great job I had always wanted would be within my grasp.

  Chapter Ten

  "...And then he said that I could do whatever I wanted for my birthday, so I said I wanted to go to Vegas!" Daisy had been yapping in my ear for over twenty minutes about how things were going with Dean, her boyfriend. It did not bother me. As a matter of fact, I was glad to have her yapping in my ear; I had to admit that I missed our bus rides together. But at least we had our cell phones. "So, are you going?"

  "Just over a weekend, right?" I said. "I can't just go and ask for time off at a new job."

  Daisy laughed and then shouted, "Mind your own business, grandma!" I could tell Daisy had moved the phone away from her ear. "Sorry, it's that old nosy bat who has nothing better to do than listen in on other people's conversations.” She moved away from the phone again. “Yeah, I'm talking to you.” Then she was back. “Anyway, yes, it will only be over a weekend. I have to save up some money, so it won't be until about two weeks after my birthday, but that's actually better; then it won't be so hot."

  I hated Vegas in the summer. A hundred and fourteen degrees was well above my comfort level. "Yes, please, let's wait until it's cooled down a little."

  "So you'll go?" Daisy sounded ecstatic.

  "Of course I will," I replied, although Daisy should have known by now that there was no way I would not go.

  "OK, well, my stop is coming up, so I'll talk to you later."

  "Have a great day," I said, missing my rides with Daisy even more today than normal.

  I heard the piston sound of the bus doors closing behind Daisy. "I will," she replied. I pictured her walking up to the old building I used to work in. "And don't forget to tell Brook about the trip."

  "I won't." I was not sure I really wanted to tell Brook about the trip. We had enough problems with her gambling where it was only legal in a few places, let alone being in Vegas where it was the major entertainment. I sighed. But there was no way I was going without her.

  Once I arrived at work, I glanced into Joanna's office. The woman was on the phone and seemed to be speaking frantically to the person on the other end of the line. I left her to finish her call and went to check my email.

  Ten minutes later, Joanna came out of the office. She did not look happy.

  "Paulette, I need to ask a huge favor."

  "Sure," I replied without thinking. It did not matter, I would probably say yes regardless of what Joanna asked me to do.

  "My mother is having surgery tomorrow..."

  "Oh, I'm sorry, is she OK?"

  Joanna laughed. "Oh, she's fine. Just a little nip and tuck." She shook her head. "I swear that the woman has had more plastic surgery than Cher."

  I tried to not to giggle.

  "Anyway, even though she's been through all of this before, and quite often, I always promise her I'll be there, you know, ‘just in case'." She rolled her eyes and laughed again. She seemed to take a lot of humor from her mother's troubles. "The woman swears she'll die every time she has surgery, but she has the best plastic surgeon in Oregon and he's never gone wrong."

  "What do you need me to do?"

  "I have a cat," Joanna said. She picked up a framed picture that was sitting on her desk. A black and white cat sat in a basket, reminding me greatly of the puppy on my notebook.

  "He's very cute," I said. I liked cat pictures, but I was not necessarily a cat fan. There was no way I would ever own one.

  "He is a dear, I don't know what I would do without him." Joanna looked at the photo as if it were of a lost love. "Alex didn't care for cats, but I didn't care; I got him anyway."

  Joanna had never spoken about her personal life before, and I was not sure how to respond, so I stayed quiet. I was glad I did because within a second of putting the picture back on her desk, Joanna was back in formal form.

  "So..." Joanna said as she sat back into her chair. "Would you feed Seamus, make sure he has water, and empty his litter box?"

  "Yes, of course," I replied. Yes, I’ll clean the litter box? God, what was I thinking?

  "If you would also water the plants and get the mail for me, I'd be most appreciative."

  "Not a problem. So, you leave tomorrow?"

  "Yes." Joanna handed me a piece of paper. On it was a schedule with times and activities. "I've put together a list of when Seamus eats and how often to clean his litter box. I also included which plants need how much water and when. Some of them are quite rare."

  I stared at the page, my eyes wide. Indeed there was a list of the type
of plants I would encounter, accompanied by pictures, for which I was thankful. I had no idea what plants were what. I always told people I had a black thumb.

  "You will find a watering can that measures the amount of water you use. I find it very helpful."

  Amazement was the only way I could describe the anal-retentive list I was viewing. But I was going to be paid good money for taking care of a cat and watering a few plants. Plus, I was able to do all of the work during working hours. I'd have to look up the bus schedule to get to Joanna's apartment, but that would be pretty easy.

  As if reading my mind, Joanna handed Paulette an envelope. "Here is some cab money. I know you take the bus, but it's my understanding that the bus is a very slow method of travel."

  I laughed. "You have no idea," I said.

  "I thought so. This will help get you to my place much quicker so you're not missing too much office time. Although, since I'll be gone, you probably won't have much work to do."

  A vacation at work suited me just fine.

  “Oh, one more thing,” Joanna said, her face taking on a sad look, “I looked into that bill you told me about. It looks like it won’t make it through the committee level, so it is going to be dead soon.”

  My body felt like a lead jacket had settled on my shoulders. This was supposed to be my big break and now it was gone.

  “I thought it was a great idea,” Joanna continued. She must have sensed my mood because she added, “Don’t give up. Your big piece will come along soon enough and you’ll look back and realize it was not such a long wait after all.”

  Her smile did nothing to ease the feeling of loss. I was so sure about this idea that I had neglected to keep my eyes peeled for something new. Now I was back where I started three weeks ago. I wondered if I should even bother trying.

  "Now, let's get started on that article about how the cabinet members use the funds..."

  I opened my notebook and began taking notes, trying to keep a smile on my face but knowing I was failing miserably. My mind kept wandering to the ‘what ifs’ until I shook my head and tightened my resolve. Many ideas were out there floating around, and if I sat here feeling sorry for myself instead of trying to find something new, then I would never get where I wanted. Well, maybe my next idea would pay off. I could not, and would not, give up!