by Mari Madison
“In any case, it doesn’t matter,” I replied. “No more live shots for me. I’m on the celebrity beat now, don’t you know? Just wait ’til you hear what those crazy Kardashians are up to now!”
He snorted. “Not exactly your dream job, huh?”
“To say the least. And if that’s not bad enough you won’t believe who they paired me with.”
“Sarah Martin?”
I looked at him, surprised.
He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a News 9 superfan. I know all about cute little Sarah and her entertainment show. But why is that a problem for you? Hell, I’d be counting my lucky stars to be paired with a hottie like her.”
“Even if that hottie is an ex-girlfriend who despises the ground you walk on?”
Griffin raised an eyebrow. Clearly he was not expecting this. “Do tell,” he said with an eager gleam in his eyes.
I hedged. “It’s a long story . . .”
“Long stories mean an excuse for more beer.”
I sighed. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to talk about this. But then again, maybe it would help to explain to someone who wasn’t involved. And at the moment I needed all the help I could get.
“It all started back in college. I was involved in this activist group, started by a grad student named Ryan. He was kind of a hero to me. To a lot of us, I guess. A crusader for human rights, animal rights, environmental rights. You name it. If there was a cause, Ryan was probably fighting for it.” I paused, then added, “And he wasn’t afraid to fight dirty.”
“Okay . . .”
“When I first introduced him to Sarah he didn’t really care about her. Until, that was, he found out who her father was. He wasn’t mayor back then, of course. Just a big-time businessman with his fingers in a lot of pies. One being Water World.”
“The amusement park with the whales?”
“Yup. The same one Ryan had been wanting to get shut down for some animal abuse allegations. So he got this idea in his head and told me to ask Sarah out. To get on her good side. Make her fall in love with me.” I made a face. “At the time it seemed like an easy assignment. After all, I was half in love with her already. So we started dating. And I got her to trust me. And then Ryan swept in and got her to go to her father’s IT guy and use her feminine wiles to score some passwords to her father’s network.
“It wasn’t hard. He had a really crappy network back then. And the IT guy, Johnny I think his name was, was a sucker for a pretty face. So we got the passwords and the idea was to go in and hack Water World’s website—and some of the other business accounts. Post the truth about what was really going there, along with photos and video of the abuses. Hold them for ransom, if you will, until they agreed to reform their policies or shut down for good. ‘High-tech protesting,’ Ryan called it. It seemed like a great idea at the time.”
“I take it things didn’t go to plan?”
“Oh. They did all right. To Ryan’s plan anyway.” I shook my head, remembering. “You see it turned out Ryan wasn’t actually interested in saving the animals at all. All of this was just a smoke screen to get us idiots to pitch in and get him access to what he needed. The access to so much more.”
“Like . . . ?”
“Like bank accounts. Financial data. With the passwords Sarah got him, he was able to strip her father’s accounts of almost a million dollars. And he would have gotten away with it, too. But he was too cocky. He bragged about it to me before leaving the country and Sarah overheard.”
“Ouch.”
“Of course he had this whole story. How Sarah’s father had stolen all this money from everyday people and he was going to be some big Robin Hood and give it back. I almost thought he was going to convince her—that was Ryan. He could sell ice cubes to Eskimos. But in the end, she went to her father and confessed everything. Then they went to the police. Ryan was stopped at the border and arrested.”
“He was crazy to think he would get away with something like that to begin with.”
“Ryan was always crazy. We just thought it was the good kind of crazy. Not the criminal kind. Anyway, everything started moving fast after that. The police trying to figure it all out. Who was involved, et cetera. Sarah’s father was considering a political career even then and couldn’t afford to have his princess affiliated with what the media had dubbed a domestic terrorist cell. So he worked his connections and got her immunity. Then he turned his attentions to me. Handed me the chance of a lifetime—the job of my dreams on a silver platter, halfway across the world. Told me in life you got one ‘get out of jail free’ card and this was mine. Take it or go down with the proverbial ship.”
Griffin gave a low whistle. “So he made you an offer you couldn’t refuse.”
“Sarah wanted me to refuse it when she found out. She begged me not to go. She wanted to run away to Mexico. Get away from all the crazy of her father and the situation. She had this idea that we could just live a simple life on the beach together.” I scowled. “But I couldn’t do it. I had determined I was meant for something bigger. Something important. Man, was I a fool.”
“So you decided to go overseas.”
“I did. Except I almost changed my mind at the last minute. I realized I loved Sarah, and I didn’t want to leave her behind. I went and bought a ring. And I was on my way to find her and ask her to marry me. But before I could, she learned the truth.”
“That you were in on it all along.”
I nodded grimly. “That the only reason I was dating her was because Ryan told me to. That it was all part of a setup to get her to betray her family. That I had played her like a fool from the very start. She was”—I made a face—“pissed off to say the least.”
“Ain’t no fury like a woman scorned.”
“Right.” I shrugged. “So I took the job. What else could I do? I went overseas and never looked back. I loved being over there, until the end. It was a dream come true. But I could never quite leave the memory of Sarah behind. Even though I knew full well I didn’t deserve a girl like her after what I did.”
I stared down at my beer, my stomach churning as I remembered those lonely years away. I’d had plenty of adventures. I’d hooked up with plenty of other women. But nothing had ever compared to how I’d felt with Sarah in my arms.
“So now I’m back. And Sarah—she’s not so happy about that. At least she doesn’t appear to be. And I don’t blame her, of course. She has every right to hate me for what I did to her. But at the same time, I still care about her like crazy. And I have no idea how I’m going to work side by side with her every single day.”
Griffin nodded. “That’s rough, man,” he said, taking a swig of his beer. “I don’t know what to tell you, either. All I know is you need to be careful. You’ve got a lot on your plate right now as it is. Stuff you have to swallow before you can take on any new problems.”
“I know,” I said glumly. “Believe me, I know. But what can I do? I need this job. I have to work with her.”
“Then work with her. And try to be her friend. But there’s no need to take it any further than that. To push her too hard. Or too fast. You have five years of pent-up feelings—but remember, she does, too. You come on too fast—even if you mean well, you’re going to scare her away forever.”
I nodded, knowing he was right. If I ever wanted the chance to get Sarah to forgive me, I’d have to take my time. Get her to trust me again. Show her I could be a good friend. And then maybe, someday, we could explore the idea of being more than that. Maybe.
Maybe . . .
I set my empty beer on the table. “I got to get going,” I told Griffin. “Big day tomorrow. Can you believe I’m getting paid to sit in a theater and watch a movie all day?”
Griffin grinned. “Sounds like nice work if you can get it.” Then he turned serious. “Look, Troy. I know things may seem grim now, but I promise you, ha
ng in there and it’s going to get better. Trust me, I’ve been there. I know.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate that.”
“And if you need me? Call me. I don’t care what time it is, I sleep with the phone by my bed. I will answer. I’ll come by. I’ll bring beer.”
I nodded, the huge lump in my throat making it impossible, at first, to speak. “Thank you,” I managed to say again in a croaky voice after a pause. “That means a lot.”
“And good luck with Sarah!” he added with a wink. “I’ll be rooting for a reunion . . . and lots of hot make-up sex!”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t hold your breath on that one,” I said with a smirk. “At this point I’ll settle for not being strangled to death in my sleep.”
“Aim high, my friend. Aim high.”
twelve
TROY
In my old life, I’d start a typical day on my computer, scouring Reuters, the AP, BBC News—to get a sense of the overall picture of what was going on in the world that day, and specifically my corner of it. Then, I’d call my list of contacts or meet up with them in various cafes and bars—to see if they’d heard anything, seen anything, thought anything was worth checking out.
Of course it wasn’t always up to me. The network was always asking me to go here or there, to cover whatever the big story of the day might be. In fact, it could be a real juggling act—to balance between reacting to news that had already happened (a bombing, an invasion, a flare-up in a refugee camp) and seeking out less obvious stories that I thought were important, like exploring the cultural or social issues behind the conflicts.
Turned out entertainment reporting wasn’t all that different, at least when it came to process. Sarah had me start the morning of my second day on the job by scouring the Hollywood trade publications, Deadline.com, and the gossip magazines while she fielded calls from movie PR firms which offered her interview ops with various stars who were coming to town.
We were halfway through our morning research when the executive producer came in to make sure we would include the big Real Housewives meltdown that had happened off-camera at some swanky San Diego bar the night before. One of our viewers evidently shot some “good fighting video” from his iPhone they wanted to air. Sarah, God bless her, took it with a smile and promised to make sure it made her show.
“Okay,” she said, turning to me and looking down at her notes. “So for the five o’clock newscast we’ll lead with the Real Housewives thing—that’s the best video anyway. Then we’ll cut to the Kim Kardashian selfie snafu. We’ll need to send the photo to graphics—so they blur out the naughty bits. Oh and I’ll pull a few funny Twitter reactions to follow the actual picture. Does she look hot? Is it too much? Is she ruining the future lives of young girls as we know it by taking her clothes off so often? That kind of thing.” She scribbled something down on her notepad. “Then we’ll use the second part of my Hemsworth interview. That’s already edited so we’re good there. And we’ll close with a tease to our new franchise. I doubt they’ll have the beta open ready yet—they’ll probably need to get a few shots of you to insert into it before it’s final. You’ll want to check with the promo department on that.” She looked down at her notes. “And I think that should do it.”
I gave a low whistle. I didn’t know whether to be disgusted by what garbage was going into the newscast or impressed by the way Sarah had artfully arranged that garbage. Origami out of ashes.
“That’s quite a bit. How much time do you get for your slot anyway?” I asked.
“The whole D block if I want it,” she said, looking a little sheepish. “That’s about five to seven minutes. Of course the new He Said, She Said may get a little more time since it’s airing in the four PM newscast. There’s not as much news at four. Most reporters save their big packages for the five or six PM when we have a bigger audience.”
“Right.” I raked a hand through my hair, staring down at her notes.
“What?” she asked, cocking her head. “You don’t approve?”
I shrugged. “It’s just . . . there’s so many things going on in the world. People here have no idea. We could be broadcasting all day long and we’d never even scratch the surface of what people need to know. And yet—we’re devoting twenty percent of the newscast to celebrity selfies and bar fights?” I paused. “Doesn’t that bother you at all?”
She frowned. “Of course it does,” she said. “But what am I supposed to do? I don’t run this place.”
“Right. Construction worker on the Death Star . . .”
She stared at me for a moment. Then her eyes sparkled. “Keep your eyes down,” she said, finishing our old joke. “Jedis don’t have 401(k)s.”
I looked up at her. She met my eyes with her own. God, she looked so different than my Sarah. But it was her. Deep down it was still her. Something inside me twisted a little.
“Look,” she said. “If it makes you feel any better? There’s a method to this madness. Entertainment stories bring people in. They’re like live bait to lure the fish. Melted cheese on a kid’s Brussels sprouts. You want people to hear the important stuff? What’s going on in the world? Well, you have to get them to tune in first. These mindless entertainment stories serve that purpose.”
I nodded slowly. While I hated the idea that people out there were so content to be ill-informed of what was going on around them, I knew what she said was true. And if what we did here got them to turn on their TV and hear the rest? Well, that was something. In fact, it was a lot.
“Fair enough,” I said. Then I shot her a wicked grin. “Now let’s see that selfie again. I might need to be the judge of whether it’s hot enough to reel people in.”
She laughed. “How about I take care of the selfie?” she suggested. “You go ahead and check in with the promo department about getting your mug into the beta open. You won’t have time later with the screening.”
“The screening?”
“Yeah, sorry. There’s a screening for this new thriller starring Kristin Stewart at one. I have us down to check it out. I figure it can be our first He Said, She Said review film. Does that work for you?”
“Sure, I guess.” I paused, then added, “So News 9 is literally paying us to go to the movies?”
She laughed. “We can’t review it if we haven’t seen it.”
“Good point.” I shook my head. Spending the day at the movies. And getting paid to do it.
“Don’t get too excited,” Sarah added. “It’ll be a small theater. Just press, most of them probably only half paying attention. And make sure you eat a big lunch. They never serve popcorn at these things. Which, in my opinion, is a damn shame.”
“A travesty,” I agreed. “You should seriously protest.”
Her smile faltered at this and I winced as I realized what I’d just said. What I’d inadvertently inferred. But hey—now that I’d led the gigantic elephant into the room, I figured I might as well introduce it around and let it ask for peanuts.
“Do you ever, uh, do that anymore?” I asked, trying to tread carefully. “Protest, I mean.”
Her face turned bright red. “No,” she replied in a clipped voice. “Not since . . . well, you know.” She turned away, staring at the wall.
“Right.” I sucked in a breath, pausing before adding, “Well, that’s too bad. You were really good. A real advocate for those whales.”
“Yeah. Well, evidently I was the only one.”
Silence fell over us, as her words dug like a dull knife into my stomach. I opened my mouth to say something. Anything—to clear the air. But what could I say? What had happened had happened and nothing could change that now, no matter how much I wanted it to. I could apologize again—and maybe this time she’d be willing to listen. But then again, maybe not. She’d certainly never listened before. And maybe I deserved that.
“Whatever happened to the underc
over footage?” I asked instead. “All the stuff we shot back then? We could still do something with that if we had it, don’t you think? I mean, I know it’s old. But it’s proof we were right about what they were up to. What they probably still are up to.”
She stared at me, as if I had two heads. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “Ryan had it last I knew. And obviously he isn’t around to give it back.”
“Right.” I sighed. Of course everything came back to Ryan in the end. That bastard. If only I could get my hands on him again. He’d be the one needing to be saved.
But Ryan was locked away in prison, which was probably for the best. And the rest of us were forced to pick up the pieces of our lives best we could.
I rose to my feet, clearing my throat. “Anyway, I’ll go check in with promotions. See you back here when I’m done.”
She nodded but didn’t reply. I watched her for a moment, the way her shoulders slumped. Her head bowed. Cracks in a perfectly polished façade. It hurt my heart to see her like this. Especially when I knew much of her pain had to do with me.
But while I couldn’t do anything about that—at least not right away—I realized I could do one simple thing. I could take this job and work it like it was the most important job I’d ever had in my life. Prove to her I could take it seriously. That I could take her seriously.
That wasn’t nearly enough to make up for the past. But it would be a start. And once I got started? Well, who knew how far I’d be able to go?
thirteen
SARAH
Wow,” Troy said as we walked out of the film screening later that afternoon. “So that was . . . something.”
I glanced over at him. “You didn’t like it?”
We stepped out into the parking lot and I shrugged on my jacket. There was a strong ocean breeze today, making it a bit chilly outside. Unlike inside the theater, which had felt almost boiling. Though possibly that had been less to do with the actual temperature and more to do with my proximity to Troy.
