Scoop (31 page)

“What?”

“Please, Ray. It’s obvious we have chemistry, but you never did ask me out. Why? Because you knew I’d turn you down. We have to keep things professional between us.”

At the same time, Ray and Jill glanced at Tim, the editor, sitting next to Ray. He looked away and went back to editing. Jill looked amused. Ray felt sick to his stomach.

“Jill,” he said in a low tone, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve never been attracted to you. You’re nice and everything, and I’m sure many men would be happy to date you, but—”

“Say what you want, Ray. I know what I know.”

“Jill, seriously—”

“It’s not worth it, Ray. For either of us. And I don’t think it’s worth it for you to risk throwing away your job for someone like Hayden Hazard. I mean, the girl is cute, I’ll give her that. But she’s also from another planet, if you know what I mean.”

Yeah. Planet Decent and Good.

Jill glanced at Tim, who was devoting an abnormal level of concentration on the screen in front of him. “It’s just sad that we couldn’t have met under different circumstances.”

“Jill, for the last time, this isn’t about professional conduct. It’s about the fact that I’m not attracted to you.”

“You keep up that act,” she said with a wink.

As she walked off, Tim shook his head. “Who wouldn’t want that chick?”

Ray had no idea if Tim was being facetious or not, but he had othe
things to concentrate on for now, like getting this piece together and figuring out how he could ask Hayden out for another date.

It was seven minutes until nine when Hugo finally saw Chad walk into the station, his stupid trench coat flaring behind him. The news director smoothed out the sides of his ponytail and headed straight for his office, oblivious to the death rays Hugo shot across the room at him.

He’d been trying to get ahold of Chad for hours. It was as if he’d disappeared off the planet. And now he came sauntering in at nearly nine o’clock in the evening.

Hugo took the long way to his office, hoping to calm himself down a little. This would be all Chad’s fault. Hugo had to make the decision without him, and after viewing Ray’s piece, which was compelling and put together very well, Hugo made the call to air it.

Now he was going to have to explain to Chad that they were following a story he told them not to.

The Blue Pill wasn’t working as well anymore.

He rounded the corner, deep in thought, only to look up when he saw two feet standing in his way. Two very familiar feet.

“Jane?”

“I’ve been trying to call you all afternoon. We need to talk.”

“Now?” Hugo said.

Jane’s eyes narrowed in a way that told Hugo that wasn’t the right response.

“We’re on air in an hour, Jane.”

“Well,” she said in a very sour voice, “according to our last conversation, you were willing to quit work in order to become some modern-day Quaker. So what’s the hurry?”

“It’s sweeps week, honey,” Hugo said, trying to muster up that soothing sound that oftentimes back-pedaled him out of a sticky situation. “Can’t we talk about this when I get home?”

“You don’t even know what ‘this’ is.”

“I know.” He touched her arm gently. “But I know we need to talk. I’ll come home right after the news, I promise. Straight after the news.”

“You always come home straight after the news. What’s the difference? Am I supposed to take that as some sort of sacrifice?”

Hugo glanced sideways. He could see Chad in his office. He hadn’t taken off his coat, which made him wonder if he was here to stay or just stopping by for a second.

“Something more important you need to tend to?” Jane asked, noticing his eye’s shift.

Hugo sighed. Loudly. He didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t just drop everything and tend to Jane. Why did she need everything to be on her schedule? He tried one more time. “Jane, you are the most important thing to me. That’s why I talked to you earlier about our jobs, our lives. I think some things need to change. But we’re not going to be able to sort through it all in an hour. Let me come home, we’ll sit in the living room, and talk this through, okay?”

“I came up here to tell you I want a divorce.”

“What?”

“So maybe you can give that a good thinking over in the next hour. And you know what? Some people have to get up early and work in the morning, so staying up late to ‘talk this through’ isn’t going to work for me.”

She spun on her heel and walked out. Hugo looked up and Chad was walking toward him, still wearing his coat.

“Hugo, you look like you’re in a trance. What’s the matter with you?” Chad said, sounding irritated.

“Where have you been?” Hugo snapped back and would’ve gasped at his own remark had he been able to breathe.

Chad’s face twisted into a mess of ugliness. “What did you say?”

“I’ve been looking for you all day.”

“Since when do I report to you?”

“You don’t. I report to you. Which is what I’ve been trying to do all day.”

“You’re an intelligent guy, Hugo,” Chad said. “I’m sure you’ve been getting along fine without me.”

“I made the call to run a story on the wastewater treatment plant.”

“You what?”

“There’s new information. I think it’s going to be the big story.”

“I thought we agreed we were going to cover Gilda’s disappearance.”

“We did. That was before Mr. Duffey came across information about the plant.”

“What kind of information?” Chad actually took a step forward, but Hugo stood his ground.

“Important information,” Hugo said. “Information that may implicate the plant director. He knowingly used subgrade and apparently dangerous chemicals and profited off of it.”

Chad laughed. Hugo had no idea why. He didn’t feel like laughing and wondered if he ever would again. The word “divorce” kept trailing behind his thoughts like the tail of a kite through the breeze in his head. Hugo Talley never in his life thought he would be divorced. The possibility never even occurred to him. He just wasn’t the kind of guy that got divorced. He was the kind of guy who would live unhappily for four decades, but he wasn’t a guy who would divorce his wife just to live happily.

“Talley, you don’t even look like you’ve checked in,” Chad said.

“I haven’t checked in? I’ve been here all day!” Hugo roared, surprising himself, Chad, and everybody else within earshot.

Chad glanced around, offering a dirty look to anyone who wished to stare. Hugo kept his eyes fixated on Chad.

“You’re not going to run that story,” Chad said.

“What?”

“You heard me. I told you not to pursue it, and you deliberately disobeyed my orders.”

“It wasn’t deliberate. It’s the news business. Things change hourly. And in case you haven’t noticed, this has been a really slow news day, so a story like this could really put us on top.”

“Where did you get your information?”

“Unnamed sources,” Hugo said.

“You’re going to bet an entire story on an unnamed source? Who are you—Bob Woodward?”

“Mr. Duffey found another source to corroborate the information. This could be the biggest story of the year, Mr. Arbus. You should rethink your position.”

Chad stood still for a moment, his eyes transfixed ahead. Then he said, “It’s your call, Hugo. You are, after all, the executive producer. I’m handing the responsibility to you.” He paused, then added,
“All of it.”

“I’ll go down with the ship. Happily. You’re not even on the ship, Chad.” Hugo used his first name, for the first time, and Chad took notice. Hugo realized, suddenly, that Chad Arbus didn’t seem so threatening without the formal title and the respect that came with calling someone
mister.
Now he looked like a man going through a midlife crisis way too early, and he had the foolish earring and ponytail to prove it.

Chad turned and, without another word, walked out of the station. Hugo let out the breath he was holding. He wondered exactly how he would be handling this without the Blue Pill.

Speaking of his Blue Pill, it was time to take one. He walked past the anchor desk, where Hayden and Tate were both studying their scripts and going over the show’s time line. The floor director gave Hugo the thumbs-up sign and nodded to Hayden, indicating he thought she was ready to roll. Ray was setting up to do a live shot from the newsroom to follow his edited segment on the wastewater treatment plant. Jill watched Ray. Why,
he wondered? Maybe because all she had to do today was dub her voice over Gilda’s. And Trent was somewhere at the mall counting Santa displays.

Hugo sat in his desk chair and slapped his hand over his mouth to keep a rather large moan from escaping. What was it about his life that invited such chaos? He closed his eyes, picturing Hayden Hazard’s blissful face, free of any worry or anxiety. Well, Hayden had her religion, and Hugo had his Blue Pill.

He pulled out his desk drawer. His heart skipped a beat when he didn’t see the pill bottle. He reached as far back as he could, but there was no pill bottle. He looked all around his desk, on the floor, in the waste-basket.

The pills were gone.

H
i, Hayden.” “Hi, Jill.”

Jill had waited until Tate had left the set to powder his face. Now Hayden was completely alone. Jill forced herself to be nice to this little goody two-shoes. She was self-righteous and smugly virtuous.

“How’s it coming?” she asked.

Hayden looked down at her script. “Okay. I’m a little more nervous than I was Friday. I guess because I know what to expect now. And maybe the sweeps-week thing is getting to me.”

“A little trick of the trade,” Jill said. “Sit on the bottom of your suit jacket. It will pull it taut across your shoulders and make you appear pulled together.” Jill learned that trick from the movie
Broadcast News
, but Hayden didn’t need to know that.

“Good advice. Thanks.”

“You know, I could’ve been an anchor. Mr. Talley has asked me several times to consider it.”

“Why haven’t you?”

“Oh, you know, I didn’t want to be just a talking head. I’m a hardcore journalist.”

“You do great work, Jill. I think it’s really admirable. It takes a lot of guts to do the things you have to do.”

“Not everyone has guts,” she said, smiling. “Like Ray, for instance.”

“Ray? He’s one of the best reporters I’ve seen.”

“True. But I’m not talking about his reporting skills. I’m talking about his Casanova skills.”

Hayden laughed. “What?”

Jill kept the smile on her face. “He’s had the biggest crush on me forever. I mean, big-time crush. He just can’t get up the nerve to ask me out.”

“Really?”

Hayden Hazard wasn’t one for poker, Jill could see. There was no hiding the disappointment on her face.

“I think he’s getting close, though. He’s been flirting like crazy lately. We’ll see. Anyway, I just wanted to come by and wish you the best for tonight. The anchor, after all, is the glue that holds it all together. And it’s not every day somebody with your experience gets to anchor during sweeps week. Some people are saying you’re taking advantage of Gilda’s disappearance, but I say that you’re bailing us out of a tough situation.”

Hayden looked genuinely mortified. “I would never try to take Gilda’s place. I’m just praying she comes back safely.”

“We all are,” Jill said soberly. “Good luck.” As she walked off, she glanced back once and, as she suspected, Hayden was watching Ray, a bit of remorse on that smug face of hers.

Ray was starting to get a complex. Ever since Jill had made her feelings known—or rather, tried to make up Ray’s feelings for her—she’d been transfixed on him. She seemed to be everywhere he was. From across the room, he could feel her staring at him. And every chance she got, she managed to be in his way.

It was the last thing he needed today. He had a big story, and he didn’t want to be distracted, yet it seemed there were nothing but distractions in his way. When he wasn’t thinking about everything he needed for his story, he was thinking about Hayden. He was falling hard for her. And the
more he got to know her, the more he wanted to get inside her head. What made her tick? Was it possible to act the way she did in this day and age? It was almost like she’d stepped right out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Could she be for real?