natural history museum. My bow tie will be displayed in a little glass case. It’s not a clip-on, you know. I tie it myself.”
Kelly put away the lip gloss and held up the mirror so he could see himself. “It’s crooked.”
“Can’t have that.” He tugged at the thick silk folds of the tie. “There. Sartorial perfection. Monroe won’t pick on me.”
“Stop it. You’re in a class by yourself. They need someone around this station who can put together a coherent sentence.”
“I still can,” Fred said, looking a little smug. “But if Monroe Capp could get an intern to do my job, he would. You, however, are irreplaceable.”
“Not.”
Fred raised his eyebrows. “I heard you got a major bonus for that scandalous exclusive with the governor of the great state next door. I love politicians,” he said gleefully. “They can’t keep their pants zipped or their mouths shut.”
“Former governor,” Kelly corrected him absently. She wasn’t going to satisfy his curiosity about the bonus. Let someone else mislead him. Newsroom gossip moved faster than the speed of light.
“I stand corrected. You did the reporting for that, right?”
“Most of it. It was a lot of legwork.” She took a moment to clear off her desk, checking to see that Gordon’s laptop and camera were still locked away. “Not something I want to do full-time. But sometimes I miss it.”
“Why?”
“You ask too many questions,” she said with a sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe I enjoy aggravation. Come on. I don’t want to be late for the meeting.”
She walked quickly down the hall, Fred only just keeping up with her long strides.
Monroe swiveled in his chair as they entered, his gaze moving away from the window. Evidently he’d just made a joke—polite chuckles were dying away. Kelly glanced at the driving rain outside, pelting the Atlanta suburb where WBRX was headquartered. The news station complex was low and unassuming, but it was a constant hive of activity, filled with employees day and night.
Mornings were busiest. Kelly wasn’t expected to attend this meeting as a rule, but sometimes she did. She enjoyed the verbal progress reports on stories in the works and liked to get a general idea of which were moving to the top of the roster.
Monroe had final say. The managing editor handed out assignments, taking questions from reporters before they went back to their cubicles or back out on their beats. The big conference table faced a large screen that hung from the ceiling for everyone’s reference.
“Hello,” Kelly said. “I was just going over copy for the evening broadcast with Fred.”
“Glad you two could join us,” Monroe said. “Find a seat.”
Fred tried to act invisible, scuttling to a folding chair at the other end of the table. Kelly didn’t bother. The reporters had returned their attention to the electronic devices in front of them, looking busy or trying to. She caught a glimpse of a solitaire setup on the screen next to her when she slid her laptop on the table and sat down.
Monroe leaned his arms on the table and looked around. “Okay, people. Set aside the gizmos. This is an actual meeting. Eye contact is mandatory.”
The reporters complied. Most were a few years younger than Kelly, not anyone she’d worked with at other stations. She didn’t remember all their names, but she smiled at the ones she did know. The newest hires were mostly from Internet sites, where they’d done byline articles or blogged. Their biggest advantage in Monroe Capp’s opinion was that they were used to working super fast for nothing.
Of course, the station paid its employees fairly well—outside of Tina, the dewy-eyed intern sitting next to Monroe. But all of them had to hustle. Reporters were only as good as their last story, and there was no such thing as job security.
The news director turned to Tina. “I’m not sure if you’ve been formally introduced to Kelly Johns.”
“No, not yet. You’re so
Kelly put away the lip gloss and held up the mirror so he could see himself. “It’s crooked.”
“Can’t have that.” He tugged at the thick silk folds of the tie. “There. Sartorial perfection. Monroe won’t pick on me.”
“Stop it. You’re in a class by yourself. They need someone around this station who can put together a coherent sentence.”
“I still can,” Fred said, looking a little smug. “But if Monroe Capp could get an intern to do my job, he would. You, however, are irreplaceable.”
“Not.”
Fred raised his eyebrows. “I heard you got a major bonus for that scandalous exclusive with the governor of the great state next door. I love politicians,” he said gleefully. “They can’t keep their pants zipped or their mouths shut.”
“Former governor,” Kelly corrected him absently. She wasn’t going to satisfy his curiosity about the bonus. Let someone else mislead him. Newsroom gossip moved faster than the speed of light.
“I stand corrected. You did the reporting for that, right?”
“Most of it. It was a lot of legwork.” She took a moment to clear off her desk, checking to see that Gordon’s laptop and camera were still locked away. “Not something I want to do full-time. But sometimes I miss it.”
“Why?”
“You ask too many questions,” she said with a sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe I enjoy aggravation. Come on. I don’t want to be late for the meeting.”
She walked quickly down the hall, Fred only just keeping up with her long strides.
Monroe swiveled in his chair as they entered, his gaze moving away from the window. Evidently he’d just made a joke—polite chuckles were dying away. Kelly glanced at the driving rain outside, pelting the Atlanta suburb where WBRX was headquartered. The news station complex was low and unassuming, but it was a constant hive of activity, filled with employees day and night.
Mornings were busiest. Kelly wasn’t expected to attend this meeting as a rule, but sometimes she did. She enjoyed the verbal progress reports on stories in the works and liked to get a general idea of which were moving to the top of the roster.
Monroe had final say. The managing editor handed out assignments, taking questions from reporters before they went back to their cubicles or back out on their beats. The big conference table faced a large screen that hung from the ceiling for everyone’s reference.
“Hello,” Kelly said. “I was just going over copy for the evening broadcast with Fred.”
“Glad you two could join us,” Monroe said. “Find a seat.”
Fred tried to act invisible, scuttling to a folding chair at the other end of the table. Kelly didn’t bother. The reporters had returned their attention to the electronic devices in front of them, looking busy or trying to. She caught a glimpse of a solitaire setup on the screen next to her when she slid her laptop on the table and sat down.
Monroe leaned his arms on the table and looked around. “Okay, people. Set aside the gizmos. This is an actual meeting. Eye contact is mandatory.”
The reporters complied. Most were a few years younger than Kelly, not anyone she’d worked with at other stations. She didn’t remember all their names, but she smiled at the ones she did know. The newest hires were mostly from Internet sites, where they’d done byline articles or blogged. Their biggest advantage in Monroe Capp’s opinion was that they were used to working super fast for nothing.
Of course, the station paid its employees fairly well—outside of Tina, the dewy-eyed intern sitting next to Monroe. But all of them had to hustle. Reporters were only as good as their last story, and there was no such thing as job security.
The news director turned to Tina. “I’m not sure if you’ve been formally introduced to Kelly Johns.”
“No, not yet. You’re so
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