“Ms. Reynolds,” I said curtly, getting up from my seat to walk over to the printer. I pulled a stack of news stories I’d printed off and turned, finding Dawn at my heel. “Can I help you?”
“You know better than to call me that,” Dawn was still smiling at me. I moved around her swiftly, heading back to my desk.
“Dawn,” I replied, glancing at her for a moment. As soon as our eyes met, I felt a shiver run through me. “What can I do for you?”
“I thought I could speak to you in my dressing room for a moment,” she replied casually. The comment made me scoff at her.
“Whatever you need to say, you can say right here,” I replied curtly.
“I’m pretty sure you don’t want me to talk about you nak--”
“Dressing room. Now.”
I’d never walked so fast in my life. As soon as Dawn had the door shut, she advanced on me till I was pressed against the wall of the room. For a moment I lost all inhibitions, letting her mouth collide into mine. Her hands roamed up my body again, and I found myself gasping. Eventually, my wits came about me again, and I managed to pry her off.
“I’m not doing this with you,” I said firmly to her when she fell back. We stared at one another, and it took every ounce of self-control not to push back into her. Instead, I stood my ground. “You left me. Didn’t even say goodbye. I don’t do flings. I actually thought I liked you.”
“You think too much,” Dawn argued, moving into me to let her long delicate fingers stroke my cheek. It made me shiver. I moved again, pacing around her office to get as much distance from her as possible.
“From now on, we’re coworkers. That’s it. Nothing more. That will never happen again. Are we clear?” I looked at her again, keeping my face as stern as I possibly could.
She looked at me curiously. “Are you sure about that?”
“Dead sure,” I replied. “Now, if you don’t have anything else you need to talk to me about, I need to get back to work.” Dawn shrugged and let me skirt by her. I made my way back to my cubicle without another word.
The rest of the day passed by without any more contact from Dawn. Instead, I found myself immersed in old reruns of the show and scribbling down segment ideas whenever they came to me. As I worked, I found myself growing more and more optimistic about the new position. By the end of the day, I’d convinced myself that Tyler’s gloom-and-doom attitude was just a product of his personality and not a reflection on the show.
Kathy had dinner ready when I’d gotten back home. She looked excited to say the least. “You got the job?”
“I already worked my first day!” I admitted, chowing down on the alfredo noodles she’d made. After I’d explained to her the events of the day, I finally got around to telling her about Dawn.
“That woman from the bar?” Kathy’s eyes went wide. When I nodded, she laughed. “Just your luck, huh?”
After dinner, Kathy offered for me to head out with her to the bar for a celebratory drink. I opted to stay in to continue to catch up on work. “There’s a show tomorrow, I have to get to sleep.” Kathy looked slightly disappointed but seemed to understand. We said our goodbyes, and I headed back to the guest house.
It still felt tainted from last night's events. I spent a good hour cleaning up and arranging things back to normal. When I was satisfied, I turned on the nightly news and sat back in bed. As soon as I did, I called Marty.
“So I was thinking, maybe we could try rearranging the segments on the show,” I said as soon as he answered. My notes from earlier at work were scattered across the bed. “I think if we organized it a little bit differently, it might attract more viewers.”
“Woah, missy,” Marty laughed into the phone. I could hear his kids yelling loudly in the background. “You know I have a life outside of the studio right? I’ve got kids and a wife to attend to.”
“Oh God, I’m sorry,” I said quietly, staring down at my papers. “I think I just got excited was all. My brain never turns off.”
Marty paused for a moment before he spoke. “Okay, you have ten minutes, tell me your ideas.”
We spoke for longer than ten minutes. When I finally looked up at the clock, an hour had gone by. Marty was by far the most patient and thoughtful listener I’d ever met. And he seemed genuinely interested in my ideas, even if he was slightly skeptical given the current state of the show.
“Well I can certainly say you are the most innovative producer we’ve had in a long while,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve never heard someone with so many ideas.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll have more soon enough,” I smiled. Just as I did, there was a beep on the line, signaling an incoming call. I checked and noticed it was Kathy. “Listen, Marty, I’ll let you go. Thanks for listening. Have a good night.”
“You too, Liz,” Marty replied as I hung up the phone.
“You need to get down here,” Kathy said as soon as I’d answered her call.
“I told you, I have an early morning,” I replied, taking a sip of water as I stared down at the notes that I’d just gone over with Marty. The late night news still played in the background.
“I’m telling you, you need to come. That woman, the one you work with. She’s here. And she’s hammered.”
“Dawn?” I asked, feeling myself start to panic slightly. “Dawn is at the bar?”
“Drunk as she can be,” Kathy replied. “I’m at the Main Street Pub.”
A half hour taxi-ride later, I’d ended up at the pub. It was relatively nice, but a place that I’d never imagine in a million years for Dawn Reynolds to be. As I made my way inside, I spotted Kathy at the bar. She was busy chatting it up with some guy, likely her fling for the evening. I tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned swiftly. We didn’t need small talk. She nodded towards the opposite end of the bar. In seconds I spotted her. She was busy chatting with the bartender.
“Thanks,” I replied curtly as I weaved my way through the busy crowd. When I finally reached Dawn, I slid into the seat beside her. It took her a moment before she looked my direction. Like the previous night, she wore a strikingly revealing dress that was hard not to look away from. I studied her over for a brief moment, but my mood was too sour to keep captivated for long.
She offered me a surprised look as she took a sip of her martini. “Liz Mudd. Fancy seeing you here. I thought you were an all-work-no-play type of woman.”
I was surprised for a moment that she remembered my name. We studied each other for a moment before I spoke. “I just so happen to be. Which is why I’m here to take you back home.”
“Forward, aren’t we?” Dawn said, raising a brow. She finished off her martini and sat up from her seat. “But if you insist, I’d be up for another go.”
Of course, she’d go there again. What the hell was wrong with her? “I’m taking you home because you have a show tomorrow. Your first show. Or have you seemingly forgotten that fact?”
“Oh I haven’t forgotten,” Dawn leaned in closer to me, and I slid off the bar and backed a step away to get space between us. “I’m just preparing to reduce myself to mediocre morning television show material.”
“There is nothing mediocre about morning show television,” I argued with her.
“Except for the fact that there’s no substance to it.”
“There’s plenty of substance to it. You’re too busy on your high horse to notice or care about that fact.” I leaned against the bar, suddenly feeling the urge to get a drink myself. “Why the hell are you not anchoring the evening news anymore?”
Dawn seemed surprised when I asked her. She stood thoughtfully for a moment and then decided to ignore the question. “Come on, let's get out of here.”
“I’m taking you home,” I replied firmly.
“Sure,” she gave me another curious smile, and then I followed her out the door. Mesmerized by her swaying hips and long pristine legs. We made it out to the street, and I waved down a taxi. Once I’d gotten Dawn inside, I sat up front, as t
o not give her any ideas. She gave the driver her address, and we took off down the LA city streets.
Dawn lived in a fancy high rise building right in the thick of things. Her building was a mere two blocks away from the studio, which I’m sure was on purpose. We exited the car after I’d paid and tipped the driver, and the two of us wandered into the building. Much to my annoyance, Dawn held onto my shoulder most of the way inside and up to the elevator.
When we finally made it inside of her condo, I was breathless. The views were breathtaking outside, but the inside. Photos of Dawn’s travels across the world lined the walls. Trinkets from the places she’d been sat on shelves and in glass cabinets. While Dawn wandered into her kitchen, I made my way carefully around the room, studying every piece. Antique plates from the middle east. A clay pot from Egypt. A landscape painting from Japan. Then, on the far side of the room, on invisible shelves, Dawn’s dozens of awards sat. Peabody, Emmys, you name it she’d won it at some point in her career.
My hand glazed over one of her Emmys just as she came back in the room to check on me.
“I can’t believe I’m in Dawn Reynolds house,” I said breathlessly, turning to look at her. She was leaning against the doorframe, lips pursed and arms crossed over her chest. She looked stunning with the lighting. I shook the unwanted thoughts from my head.
“You haven’t even seen my favorite room yet,” Dawn cooed at me. Would she ever quit?
I gave her a dirty look. “Big day tomorrow Dawn. For both of us. I suggest you go sleep off all that alcohol you had.”
Dawn smirked at me for a moment, looking as if she was about to argue with me. “Do you need me to call you a taxi?”
“I’ll be staying on your couch,” I replied. “Someone has to make sure you make it to work in the morning.” Dawn looked as if she didn’t know what to think about that idea for a moment. Finally, she shrugged, turning back into the kitchen.
“Sleep well, Liz Mudd,” she called as I watched her turn down a hallway.
“Goodnight, Dawn,” I replied, watching her until she disappeared into a room. Even after she’d gone, I thought about her. A small part of me wishing that I’d followed after her. Instead, I stretched out wide awake on the couch, laptop in hand, and set to work.
Dawn Reynolds house. I was really in Dawn Reynolds house. I still couldn’t believe it.
Chapter 4
Dawn
The ceiling spun above me. I stared into the darkness of my room after having sprawled out on the bed. My head was already starting to hurt. Even amidst my drunken stupor, I found I couldn’t fall asleep. Admittedly, my thoughts were all on Liz. When I finally looked back at the clock, an hour had passed. Midnight. I had a good two hours of sleep left before I’d need to be up for the show.
Quietly I managed to get myself up from the bed. The room still spun a little when I walked, but this wasn’t my first rodeo. The hallway was dark outside. I wandered curiously down the hall, peeking around the corner. Liz sat with her laptop in her lap. She looked fast asleep, her mouth slightly open. I could hear her snoring ever so softly.
After a moment, I found myself wandering into the room, doing my best to stay quiet. Carefully, I wrapped my hands around her laptop, sitting it on my mahogany coffee table. After, I pulled the throw I’d gotten in Mexico a few years ago off the back of the couch and laid it on her. The act was strangely satisfying. Once she was sufficiently covered, I made my way into the kitchen, pulling a book from my wooden shelf as I went.
A few hours and a hangover headache later, I heard Liz stir in the living room as her alarm went off. It was just after two. I had nearly finished the book by then, still feeling wide awake.
Liz roamed into the kitchen sleepily, surprised I was awake. “Did you not sleep?” When I shook my head, she looked disappointed. “I swear to God if you fall asleep on your first day..”
I waved her off, swiveling the barstool I sat in to face her. “This isn’t the first time I’ve worked on no sleep. You seemingly forget the fact that I’ve been a journalist in a war zone.” A journalist who was about to be on a subpar morning show - and not for an interview. The thought disgusted me. Just as I was about to speak again, my head began to throb. I stood up, making my way to the cabinet for some aspirin.
“Can I have a look in your fridge?” Liz asked me curiously as I walked by her. I waved her on, and she went without another word. A few moments later, she was pulling things out, haphazardly laying them on the counter. “Do you have a blender?” Again I pointed in the general direction, and she found it quickly.
A few minutes later, the blender was churning, and I felt my head throb even harder. “Must you do that so early in the morning?”
“Trust me,” Liz said, finishing off what she was doing. Once she’d had, she looked at me again. “Glasses?” Once more I pointed, and she retrieved. She poured us each a glass of thick green goop and slid one over in my general direction.
“What is it?” I asked, taking a whiff. It didn’t smell bad, but it certainly looked disgusting.
“Hangover smoothie,” Liz replied. “My sister taught me how to make it.” We both took a sip simultaneously and it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. “You need to drink it fast. We’re going to be late.” I sipped on it a bit faster until I’d finished it off. Surprisingly my head already started to ease up as I did.
After I’d picked out another outfit to wear for the day, the two of us headed out into the LA streets. We’d opted to walk since the studio building was a mere two blocks away. Neither of us had much to say. I presumed Liz was likely sleepy, but she looked as wound up and ready to go as I felt. Finally, when we reached the doors heading into the building, she turned to me.
“Are you ready?” She asked, offering a small smile.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, not feeling the least bit enthusiastic.
Liz and I seemed about the only two coherent people in the entire studio that morning. At 3:30 we met for our production meeting. Every idea that was tossed out made me cringe a little more. Part of me thought that being fired from the studio entirely would be less demeaning. I kept quiet, mostly listening. Every once in a while, Liz and I would catch glances at one another, and it would make the drab meeting more tolerable.
Once we’d wrapped up, I headed off to my dressing room without another word to my colleagues, if I could even call them that. After I’d made myself presentable, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” I said with somewhat of a huff. Surprisingly, it was Liz, peeking her head through the door. When she saw me, she paused for a moment, looking me over. It was the same sort of look she’d given me at the bar a few days prior. The kind of look I liked. I was about to say something when she interrupted my train of thought.
“I need you to come meet your co-host Kate,” Liz said firmly.
“Tell her she can come to me if she wants to see me,” I replied, studying myself in the mirror for a moment.
Liz’s face fell into her hands. When we met eyes again, she was staring at me sternly. “Dawn. I am your superior. I am not asking. I need you to come with me right now.”
Her tone sent a little shiver through me. Something about the way she sort of loomed over me menacingly (as menacing as she could be with that tiny lanky frame of hers), was extraordinarily attractive. She meant business.
I shrugged and walked to the door, holding it open for her. “Lead the way.”
Kate Walker was about as interesting to me as a piece of dry bread. Her lengthy contract with the show made her come across as arrogant and know-it-all. I did my best to maintain my composure around her, though it grew increasingly difficult.
“So this is the infamous Dawn Reynolds,” she said almost in a condescending way. We’d met before. I suppose she’d forgotten. I raised an eyebrow at her, standing next to Liz.
“And you are?” I replied, in spite of the fact that I’d already known.
There was a flash of anger in her
eyes, but she suppressed it. “Kate Walker. The host of Rise and Shine.”
“Co-host,” I reminded her, and she scowled at me. “Pleasure to meet you.” She didn’t look pleased any in the least, and it sent a wave of pleasure through me that I’d irritated her so much.
“Okay, okay,” Liz said, wrapping her hand around my wrist. “Let’s go get you ready. Thanks, Kate.” Kate waved us off and turned away. Meanwhile, I was focused on Liz’s hand on me. She seemed to notice quickly and dropped it.
I followed her through the hall back onto the set. She situated me at the desk. A young kid was setting up the scripts on the desk. He handed me my lapel microphone, and I clipped it on effortlessly.
“Thanks, Justin,” Liz said, offering the kid a smile. He waved at her as he took off back across the studio.
I shuffled through the scripts for the morning as Liz walked around to talk to the staff on the floor. Occasionally I’d look up to watch her. Mostly, however, I was distracted by what little the show had to do with the news at all. In fact, there was only a few small segments of coverage, mostly minor local news that lacked any substance whatsoever.
When Liz returned, we met glances, and I held up the scripts. “Isn’t this supposed to be a news show?”
“News and entertainment,” Liz gave me a small smile, which I did not return. Instead, I frowned, my gaze not drifting. “I’m going to go make sure you can hear me in the earpiece.” I watched her disappear into the control room, and a moment later I heard her in my ear.
“I have a few complaints about this script,” I replied to her, and I could see her smiling at me even through the glass windows that separated us. She didn’t respond.
Kate joined me a few minutes later, situating herself. We didn’t speak. I was too engrossed reading the fluff pieces about the latest blockbuster releases and celebrity gossip. Finally, the crew shuffled out into the studio, and the countdown timer started.
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