truth.â
âSomething like that.â
âItâs not like we havenât come at things backwards before,â she said, reaching across the table to kiss him.
âReally?â he said, managing a smile at last. âAnd I thought all our cases were a piece of cake.â
âThatâs because you work with me,â she said.
9
C aroline Croft stretched back in her red leather ergonomic chair and took in a long, cool breath. Her perfectly coiffed blonde hair was freshly combed and cut in the standard newscasterâs style, her arched stockinged feet now crossed and resting on the glass-topped office desk before her. Her husband, Bernard Jefferson, the executive producer of their high-rated
Newsline
program was now watching and listening anxiously from across the room. He had a bet with her that she wouldnât be able to pull this off, knowing the thrill of competition would make her all the more determined.
âI
want
this, Allen,â she said into the phone, her smooth âanchorwomanâ voice now tinged with the slightest hint of frustration. âBoston is my city. Stephanie was my
friend
. Iâve known the family for years, even attended Chelseaâs high school graduation.â
âThe daughter is sixteen, Caroline,â said the network CEO who was now on speaker. âShe wonât graduate high school until . . .â
âWell, I went to something with square hats, Allen â and what the fuck does it matter? May I remind you
Newsline
is the number one current affairs magazine program in the country. We make
60 Minutes
look like two and half hours of total indigestible crap and you know it.â
Bernard was cringing by this stage, obviously concerned his fearlesswife with the big TV profile and the even bigger balls had overstepped her mark. Allen Greenburg was one of the most powerful media execs in the country, and Jefferson obviously doubted even Greenburgâs mother had the guts to speak to him like this.
âBob Prescott wants it to go to his news teams,â said Greenburg, referring to his President of News. âHe says he can stretch any interview over days â chop it up for a late night bulletin, leave the softer stuff for the morning programs, milk the exclusive for maximum return.â
âBullshit,â Caroline said. âPrescott is an idiot and you know it. He wouldnât know a decent story if he fell over it, which isnât such a stretch given the last time he attended an industry awards ceremony the man drank three bottles of red and had to send his deputy up to accept the award â for the networkâs exclusive on the latest treatments for alcohol abuse, no less.â
When Greenburg fell silent, Caroline knew she had hit a nerve and took it as her cue to move in for the kill.
âHave you spoken to de Castro?â she asked, her dislike for Loganâs âpartnerâ barely disguised in the sharpness of her tone.
The silence continued â and Carolineâs instincts told her Greenburg knew something he was not sharing.
âCome on, Allen, we all bat for the same team. If Katherine needs our help in making sure any interview is treated with respect and sensitivity . . .â
âKatherine just needs a little time . . . to square things up with Jeffreyâs lawyers. She is meeting with them this afternoon and she promised me sheâd call and talk interview as soon as things were locked down.â
âWell, thatâs great,â said Croft, her mind now adjusting to this latest news. She and Cavanaugh had a history and not all of it was rosy. âBut you can tell Katherine I am happy to talk to Cavanaugh direct. I know him, Allen, and I have his trust. Besides, I have always felt Katherine was a little threatened by my success â and I donât want any ill feeling on her part resulting in the network losing the best chance it has to send this
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