you credit for what?”
Summer snorted. “For this,” she said, and spread her hand out at the room.
“You called all these people here?” Quinn asked. “That’s funny, I thought the county did that.”
“You know what I mean,” she replied.
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him dramatically. On the surface, Summer could be considered pretty. She had a graceful figure, dark brown eyes and an attractive face. But there was an intangible quality below that—everything about her, the way she talked and moved, felt calculated. And beyond the pretty eyes there was something in her stare that reminded Quinn of the dull sheen of a boulder.
“What do you want me to say? It was a great story. You found out about the plan and I didn’t. Super job. Way to go, Tiger.”
“Thanks, but are you going to give me credit?” she said.
“Maybe,” he said and shrugged.
The move appeared to infuriate her, as Quinn knew perfectly well it would.
“Oh, come on. You have to. We reported it first and I’m so tired of everybody…”
“I don’t have to do anything,” Quinn said. “Remember a month ago? Who had the story about the Leesburg First State Bank getting slapped with a fine by the federal government for losing all those files? Last I checked, I exclusively reported that with a document leaked to me from a source. But when the Post’s Extra ran the story, with your by-line as I recall, I don’t remember getting any credit.”
“That was different,” Summer said. “I told you that I already had that document. If I had relied on your reporting in any way, I would have…”
“Oh, you had the document, did you?” Quinn said. “Is that the rule now? I thought reporters generally gave credit when they got beat to a story, not just when they didn’t already know about it.”
“Listen, this is totally different…”
“Am I interrupting something?”
Quinn had been so focused on his debate with Summer he hadn’t noticed Kate standing right by him.
Summer’s attention instantly shifted away from Quinn.
“Hi, I’m Summer Mandaville,” she said with a bright smile. “I’m with The Washington Post .”
“The Loudoun Extra to be exact,” Quinn said.
Summer shot a dirty look in his direction and extended her hand. Kate shook it.
“I’m Kate Tassel,” she said. “I’m new with the Loudoun Chronicle .”
Quinn could almost see Summer stop the handshake. The smile stayed on the rival reporters’ face, but it appeared suspiciously plastic in nature.
“Oh,” she said. “Well, that’s great. The Chronicle could use a fresh face. It’s a good little paper. A great place to start.”
While Quinn silently fumed at the condescending words “good little paper,” Kate jumped to the rescue.
“Actually, I have several years experience already,” she said. “I chose the Chronicle . I wanted to join a paper that would really dive deeper into local issues. A lot of the larger papers don’t have the time or energy to do that.”
Summer’s smile slipped a little.
“Well, at the Extra…”
“Oh, I think it’s a great idea,” Kate said. “A free supplement buried in a big paper like that. It’s a great little handout.”
Quinn watched with glee as Summer struggled to find something to say.
“It was nice meeting you,” Summer finally said, in a tone that indicated it was anything but.
“Nice meeting you too,” Kate said cheerfully, as if nothing was amiss. “I’m really looking forward to getting to know you better. I’ll be covering the Phillips Farm case, so I’m sure we will see each other around.”
Summer nodded and walked to the end of the row before sitting down.
Quinn turned to Kate.
“That was fucking awesome,” Quinn said. “I have never seen anyone leave her speechless before.”
Kate grinned and she seemed to positively glow. She leaned in closer to Quinn and talked softly.
“Her article wasn’t that good,” she said. “I’ve just been handed
Summer snorted. “For this,” she said, and spread her hand out at the room.
“You called all these people here?” Quinn asked. “That’s funny, I thought the county did that.”
“You know what I mean,” she replied.
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him dramatically. On the surface, Summer could be considered pretty. She had a graceful figure, dark brown eyes and an attractive face. But there was an intangible quality below that—everything about her, the way she talked and moved, felt calculated. And beyond the pretty eyes there was something in her stare that reminded Quinn of the dull sheen of a boulder.
“What do you want me to say? It was a great story. You found out about the plan and I didn’t. Super job. Way to go, Tiger.”
“Thanks, but are you going to give me credit?” she said.
“Maybe,” he said and shrugged.
The move appeared to infuriate her, as Quinn knew perfectly well it would.
“Oh, come on. You have to. We reported it first and I’m so tired of everybody…”
“I don’t have to do anything,” Quinn said. “Remember a month ago? Who had the story about the Leesburg First State Bank getting slapped with a fine by the federal government for losing all those files? Last I checked, I exclusively reported that with a document leaked to me from a source. But when the Post’s Extra ran the story, with your by-line as I recall, I don’t remember getting any credit.”
“That was different,” Summer said. “I told you that I already had that document. If I had relied on your reporting in any way, I would have…”
“Oh, you had the document, did you?” Quinn said. “Is that the rule now? I thought reporters generally gave credit when they got beat to a story, not just when they didn’t already know about it.”
“Listen, this is totally different…”
“Am I interrupting something?”
Quinn had been so focused on his debate with Summer he hadn’t noticed Kate standing right by him.
Summer’s attention instantly shifted away from Quinn.
“Hi, I’m Summer Mandaville,” she said with a bright smile. “I’m with The Washington Post .”
“The Loudoun Extra to be exact,” Quinn said.
Summer shot a dirty look in his direction and extended her hand. Kate shook it.
“I’m Kate Tassel,” she said. “I’m new with the Loudoun Chronicle .”
Quinn could almost see Summer stop the handshake. The smile stayed on the rival reporters’ face, but it appeared suspiciously plastic in nature.
“Oh,” she said. “Well, that’s great. The Chronicle could use a fresh face. It’s a good little paper. A great place to start.”
While Quinn silently fumed at the condescending words “good little paper,” Kate jumped to the rescue.
“Actually, I have several years experience already,” she said. “I chose the Chronicle . I wanted to join a paper that would really dive deeper into local issues. A lot of the larger papers don’t have the time or energy to do that.”
Summer’s smile slipped a little.
“Well, at the Extra…”
“Oh, I think it’s a great idea,” Kate said. “A free supplement buried in a big paper like that. It’s a great little handout.”
Quinn watched with glee as Summer struggled to find something to say.
“It was nice meeting you,” Summer finally said, in a tone that indicated it was anything but.
“Nice meeting you too,” Kate said cheerfully, as if nothing was amiss. “I’m really looking forward to getting to know you better. I’ll be covering the Phillips Farm case, so I’m sure we will see each other around.”
Summer nodded and walked to the end of the row before sitting down.
Quinn turned to Kate.
“That was fucking awesome,” Quinn said. “I have never seen anyone leave her speechless before.”
Kate grinned and she seemed to positively glow. She leaned in closer to Quinn and talked softly.
“Her article wasn’t that good,” she said. “I’ve just been handed
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