by Holly Brown
No. However this goes down, I don’t want to be with someone who liked me more when I had less.
“Edwin is giving you a gift,” Beth says. “Refuse it, and you don’t know when you’ll get another. He’s seeing how serious you are, and how committed you are to INN. If you fail, you could be sidelined.”
“Then this isn’t a gift. It’s a loyalty test.”
“It’s both. So choose wisely.”
Chapter 23
For once, Edwin’s not drinking. He’s also frowning. “Albie says you were struggling a lot this weekend. He’s not sure you’re emotionally ready for this.” Am I imagining the disdain when he says “emotionally”?
I don’t know if he’s questioning my readiness for this particular story or for INN. But in either event, he might be right. I might not have the stomach for this. “Maybe we should postpone.”
“You don’t postpone a story like this. If we don’t cover it now, we could get scooped.”
“No other network would have the balls to touch it, right?”
“You need to get your head in the game.”
“It was a rough weekend. Chase showed up—”
“I know.” Even more pronounced disdain.
“I don’t want to let you down, so if you want to give the story to someone else, like if Ty can read it off the teleprompter—”
“Don’t tell me how to run my network, Cheyenne!” Edwin snaps as he strides around the office. “This was supposed to be yours. You were supposed to rise to the occasion.”
If he’s been planning this all along, that explains why my process has been so rushed. I’m being asked to throw away a relationship with the only man I’ve ever loved. I don’t think I love him anymore, but Edwin doesn’t know that. Or he does. He seems to know everything else.
Maybe Chase is really a good guy, like I always used to think, and I’ve been focusing on all his worst traits and on the negatives in our relationship. It’s possible that I’m spinning our past and who he is, putting it all in the most dire light, so that I can sacrifice him to my ambition. To Edwin’s ambition.
Now I’m mad too. “I was supposed to rise to the occasion of cutting my boyfriend’s head off?”
“The head of the snake, you mean?”
The head? I’ve been focusing on what Chase knew, not on what he’s done. What he may have initiated.
“Chase is high level at Until. I have it on good authority that he’s been instrumental in designing Until’s strategy. He’s your unicorn, right?”
Before I shut down all my social media, there was an Instagram post: a picture of Chase with the caption “My unicorn.” Is Edwin actually jealous?
He softens his tone. “We both know what you need to do, Cheyenne. In your heart, you know. And deep down, you want him to pay. For keeping you in the dark, for not being who he pretends to be. If you let him get away with it, Until could damage this entire country. You’re a patriot. That’s what I love about you.”
I sink down on the couch. “I need to know something. An investigation this extensive takes a while. Is it part of why you chose me—because having me take down my boyfriend would be something you couldn’t see on CNN or MSNBC?” It would be pure INN. Pure theater.
“It was a story we were pursuing. I didn’t know if it would pan out. But it did, and now we’re all agreed that it’s the best possible direction for you.”
Direction. That’s what I overheard the woman in the hall saying to Albie.
Who’s “we”? Ty? Albie? Daphne? Or could it be Beth? Beth did a good job of talking me into this. Could she have been the woman in the hall?
“Have you ever read an author who was willing to kill a beloved character with no warning?” Edwin asks. “No hint on the jacket cover. You’re just reading along, and bam. He’s dead.”
What the hell is he talking about?
“That author has just broken the pact. Rewritten the rules. Once they do that, forever after, when you read that author, you’re on your toes. You can’t be sure what they’ll do next.” He comes and sits beside me. “That’s what this series is for you. You tell the world about Until, and you’ve proven you’re willing to do whatever it takes. Anyone who presumed to know what you’re about or what you’re capable of . . . well, this will show them.” His eyes are on mine. “What do you think? Are you in, or are you out?”
It’s a devil’s bargain, I can feel it. But I want to say yes. Edwin’s right. I am angry with Chase for lying to me, and underestimating me. I don’t just want to show all our old classmates at Stanford what I can do. I want to show Chase too.
“If I need to, I’ll reassign the story, but I’m telling you, it’s your ticket.”
So he’s not going to sideline me. He’ll just give my story away. Even though I came in here suggesting it, the thought is a shard of glass. This is going to happen, either way. I don’t want to see someone else get the glory. But I’m not sure I can take the heat.
“If someone else breaks it,” I say slowly, “I can tell Chase that I chose not to report it. I don’t control what the network does.”
But would Chase make the same sacrifice for me?
Of course not.
The truth is, no matter what, I know in my heart that our relationship is over. I haven’t trusted him for months, and even if I bowed out, he’d never trust me again. He belongs to my past, not my future.
But being this ruthless, it’s just not me. Is it?
“Think about what Until has done, what we can stop them from doing,” Edwin says. “Think about how high this goes. Don’t you want to be a part of that?”
Finally, in a small voice, I say, “Yes.”
“Could you say it once more, please, like you mean it?”
I look into his eyes. “Yes. I want to be a part of it.”
“Good.” He smiles. “Give it everything you have tonight, okay? You’ve got this.” As I’m on my way out, he asks, “Could I give you a quick word of advice?” I nod, assuming it’ll be about my performance. “You might need a new mentor.”
He’s going to fire Albie?
“Beth,” he clarifies.
“What makes you think she’s my mentor?”
“A little birdie.”
It could have been Reese. She saw Beth coming in to check on me earlier today. It’s hard to fully trust Reese after that Pietro nonsense.
That was about a guy, though, not about work. As far as I know, Reese has always been aboveboard at INN.
I contacted Beth through email, using her INN account. Was someone monitoring it? I’ve had the suspicion for a while about surveillance and always pushed it back down, labeled it paranoia, but Edwin seems awfully knowing.
“Beth’s not my mentor,” I say.
“That’s good, because hers is not a career path you want to emulate. Do you know she used to be a blonde?”
“No.” What’s wrong with Beth’s career path? I’ve never heard anyone cast aspersions on her before.
“A rose by any other name . . .” He smiles. “I’m just messing with you. Beth is amazing. I know. I hired her.”
I don’t have the bandwidth to figure out what he’s saying. I just know that I don’t like being messed with, or being told who my friends should be. That’s a fight for another time though. I’m headed to the studio to meet Albie, where I need all the practice I can get.
The Until story is what’s best for me. It’s what’s best for the country. So for the moment, my interests are Edwin’s. But it might not always be that way. As much as I’m drawn to Edwin, because I am, I have to be more careful. Work smarter, not harder. That’s what Beth said. Work the men as much as they’re working you.
If Edwin doesn’t like Beth giving advice, that’s all the more reason for me to follow it.
Do this story, do it well, and then see where it can lead. INN isn’t the only network. But everyone’s got to start somewhere.
I head to the restroom to splash cold water on my face. I need to wa
ke up more than I ever have in my life.
Opening the door, I see there’s a woman stationed in front of the mirror, her hair pulled back tightly, items spread out all around one of the sink basins. “Excuse me,” I say, about to withdraw and find another restroom.
“Hi, Cheyenne,” the woman drawls. Without her shiny blond curls, without the evening dress, without her face on, Daphne is nearly unrecognizable.
This Daphne droops. Not like a basset hound but like a fifty-something-year-old woman who’s never had work done.
I feel like I’ve caught her in a compromising position, but she smiles brightly and says, “Stay. I’ve been meaning to talk to you again. This is your big night, yes?”
“Yes.”
Daphne is slowly, methodically—well, there’s no other way to describe it—giving herself a facelift. She’s applying what look like adhesive strips to her forehead, her cheekbones, and the area between her mouth and nose. As I watch, fascinated, the strips vanish, and the other Daphne appears, smooth and incandescent.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She laughs. Then she indicates the strips on the counter. “Your mother probably uses them. If she doesn’t, she should. I’ll give you some to send to her.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Your mother’s as beautiful as you, huh? Some women have all the luck.”
I don’t correct her.
“You probably don’t pay attention to every antiaging miracle that comes down the pike, and you shouldn’t, since mostly they’re bullshit. But as you can see, these are the real deal. What you just watched is the demonstration I did on QVC three years ago, what turned me from a millionaire into a billionaire.” Daphne turns fully toward me. “Enough about me. So you’ve decided?”
“Decided what?”
“Love or career. Loyalty to Chase or to INN. Such intrigue!” She laughs. “I know what I’d choose.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m just going to keep you in the dark for now!” Her tone is playful, but it occurs to me that Edwin said that same phrase. Do they both know about the restaurant the other night? Could they know the actual conversation I had with Chase, where he disparaged Edwin? What else do they know?
I’m going to have to learn to cover my tracks. I don’t like it, this Big Brother stuff, but life is about trade-offs. It’s about trading up. Maybe I can use this to my advantage sometime. I can drop some false intel and see where it gets me. Two can play this game. Or three. Or more.
“I’m doing the story,” I say.
Daphne nods, but her face betrays nothing. Maybe she can’t emote with those strips holding her in place.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“I’m not your fairy godmother, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“That’s not what I’m thinking.”
“Touché,” Daphne says, though it hadn’t been meant as a riposte. “Maybe I’m Edwin’s fairy godmother.”
“An investor, so he doesn’t have to shoulder all the risk?”
She shrugs, but she doesn’t deny it.
“Are you his girlfriend?”
“I’m no girl, Cheyenne. I’ve earned every line on my face.”
Then why does she try so hard to cover them up? To hoist them up is more accurate. But then, she’s probably the face of . . . “What’s your product called?”
“Stick It to ’Em.”
“That’s cheeky.”
Daphne laughs. “Good pun! But you’re right, I meant it to be cheeky. I hate the products that take themselves too seriously, the ones that are always talking about defying your age. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, age will not be defied. When I say stick it to ’em, I don’t mean the wrinkles; I mean the men.” She winks. So she can move her face. She begins loading the rest of the strips into her purse.
I find myself lurking, waiting. It feels like something else is supposed to happen between us.
“I don’t have any more advice for you. Unless it’s this: stop looking for wisdom from women like me.”
Is she talking about Beth?
“I don’t mean to be harsh.” Daphne’s eyes are now glistening with compassion, and the change is so startling as to disorient. “I understand you, Cheyenne. I do. I didn’t really have a mother myself, not the one I wanted, anyway, and when I was first starting out, I was casting around, looking for a mentor. But I didn’t need one, and you don’t either.”
The smartest thing would be to trust no one: not Edwin, or Daphne, or Albie, or Beth, or Reese. Chase is already out of the picture.
Good thing I still have my dad, no matter what.
Unless . . .
I can’t let myself go there. The treatments are working. Dad would tell me if anything changed. We’ve never lied to each other.
“Thank you,” I say, “for the nonadvice.”
“That one was a freebie. The next time,” Daphne says, smiling, “it’ll cost you.”
Chapter 24
I’m on INN’s biggest stage, and despite the topic of the report, I can’t deny the excitement.
There’s Ty Fordham, behind his anchorman desk. The Ty Fordham! The Angry Independent! Sure, I sat in a pitch meeting with him, and occasionally I’ve seen him in the hall, but that was different. Here, he’s a superstar.
Ty Fordham, the man whose fury is truly nonpartisan. During back episodes of INN, I’ve watched him sneer, “Don’t get behind something because it’s progressive; get behind it because it’s pragmatic. Don’t get behind something because it’s conservative; get behind it because it works.” This is the man who speaks in italics more than any human being ever. The man who’s feminist because it’s practical: “You don’t weed out half the talent pool. There are far too many stupid people for that.” The man who can actually pull off the parting line, “I’m biased toward the truth, and you should be too.”
I’ve made peace with what I’m about to do, mostly. The documents are indisputable. Until is a danger to the public. To the republic.
In my ear, Albie is counting down, “Three, two, one . . .”
This is my story. It’s my moment.
“Good evening. I’m Cheyenne Florian. And this fellow”—I gesture to the photo of a young African American man on-screen beside me—“is Drake Dixon. His father is Bryan Dixon, the CEO of Trip Records, who donated millions to the president’s campaign. Drake was convicted of various drug offenses and sentenced to six years in prison. After less than two months served, the president issued a pardon, and Drake Dixon was released.
“The pardon was in January. Less than three weeks later, Drake broke into a house that he says he thought was unoccupied. Startled and with a large amount of methamphetamine in his system, he killed the owner with an iron from the fireplace.
“INN has obtained a number of emails, among other documents, that have been authenticated and will be revealed in subsequent broadcasts. In this particular email”—it appears on the screen, with sections highlighted—“the president’s chief of staff writes, ‘Rape and murder rates have recently spiked, and while we’ve kept Drake Dixon from being much of a story so far, he could become the president’s Willie Horton during the reelection campaign. We must begin to counter that ASAP. The president will establish himself as THE ultimate in law and order. The cornerstone of that will be Until.’
“To provide context, in the 1988 presidential election, Democratic Massachusetts governor Michael Dukakis was running against Republican George H. W. Bush. Willie Horton, an African American man convicted of murder, was furloughed from a Massachusetts state prison, and while on that furlough, he committed rape, assault, and armed robbery. The Republican attacks ads are infamous for their racist overtones, but they were also undeniably effective at the time, and of course, George H. W. Bush went on to win the presidency. Our current president’s chief of staff apparently believes little has changed, and history could repeat itself, to the president’s detriment. That’s where Until comes in.”
Don’t think of Chase, don’t think of Chase, don’t think of Chase.
“Until is a surprising choice, since it’s a technology start-up based in Silicon Valley, which has not always been the most receptive to the president. But Until is different.” Dramatic pause as the screen changes to show the Until logo—a brain at the center, with happy scenes all around (children playing, an older couple on a bench looking out at the ocean, etc.). “By their own description, Until is ‘not just a company, it’s a force for good.’ The stated aim? ‘To create a safer future.’
“How do they create this future? By ‘thought monitoring and impulse-control building,’ using this wristband.” The screen changes to a picture of a smiling person wearing a device the size of a large watch. “Until uses a process they call ‘mapping,’ where they claim to tell through changes in respiration and brain waves when deviant thoughts are occurring and which of these have the greatest probability to be operationalized. In other words, Until will attempt to stop crimes before they are committed, when they’re simply ideas.
“It might sound like science fiction more than science. But according to these government documents, the device is close to ready.” I show another highlighted page. “The government has a strong vested interest in getting it through beta testing and reaching the market, at which point the government plans to become the only customer. That’s why $100 million has been essentially gifted to Until, in the form of research and development.
“In a nutshell, your tax dollars are paying the R&D for a private company that has never created anything before to rush a product to market that will exist for the exclusive use of the government, and that will, essentially, read minds.
“Now, you might say, ‘It’s not my mind they’d be reading; it’s those of criminals.’ Because the first people who would be signed up would be those who’ve been previously convicted of violent crimes. You can already look up whether sex offenders are living in your neighborhood; this is just the next level. It’s in the public good, right?
