“What about The Flame?”
“You heard Lee, we’ll figure it out. This isn’t going to be a forever sort of thing. It’s a documentary, after all. I assume once we’re done filming things will go back to normal. Besides, I trust you to run the business if and when I’m tied up,” I said.
“That’s a first,” Joel laughed. “You don’t trust me with anything.”
“Please, you’re the best I’ve got,” I said and I meant it. Joel was my polar opposite in many ways, but he was infinitely reliable, and just the kind of level-headed, risk-averse person I’d need to run the business in my absence—though the prospect of handing over control to someone else did make me more than a little nervous. I’d been The Flame’s heart and soul for so long now that it’d become my entire identity. Still, I knew Joel would do a good job, and if he didn’t I could always swoop down and get things back on track.
“Well, should we tell the rest of the team?”
“Might as well. It won’t be long before they find out themselves, and I’d rather they hear it from me first.”
“Good idea. You want me to round them up?”
“No, I’ll do it,” I said and pushed back from the table to take a walk through the circular office, shouting and clapping all along the way.
“Attention! Whatever you’re working on, it can wait! Meet me in the war room,” I said as I beat on doors until I got back to the main office room that served as the hub of our operation. We had a small staff, just ten of us including myself, so it didn’t take long for them all to pile in at the table in the main office. “I’ve got something I need to talk about with you all.”
“Kile, we already know you’re gay,” Lane said. “You don’t need to come out.”
“Very funny. No, that’s not what I’m talking about. I just got off the phone with Lee Noble from NewSpin,” I said and if I didn’t have their attention before, I certainly had it now. “I’ve got some big news to share. They’ve offered to film a documentary mini-series about me and about The Flame. Naturally, I said yes.”
“You did?” Lane asked.
“Yes. I don’t really have a lot of details yet but it looks like you guys are going to have to steer the ship without me for a while.”
“How long?”
“About three weeks, give or take.”
“This is crazy,” Lane said.
“Yeah, I agree. I can’t really believe it myself.”
“Crashing Taylor’s press conference was the best thing you’ve ever done,” Nate laughed. “I mean, I knew it was going to be big, but Jesus, I never would’ve guessed.”
“One man’s crash really is another man’s treasure,” I said and the whole staff laughed.
“But you are coming back, aren’t you?” Lane asked.
“Of course I am. The Flame is my baby, I’m not about to leave it behind. I would never have gotten this offer if it weren’t for the site, so no need to worry about that. And there’s also no need to worry about your jobs. Whatever else happens, you’ll still have those. In fact, I think this might bring in a lot more advertising revenue. At the least, it’ll give us more clout and credibility to muscle around with. This is a good thing for all of us.”
“But it’s a great thing for you,” Lane said.
“Yes, it is. Is that a problem?”
“No, not at all. I always knew you were meant for more than sitting behind a computer all day. This is perfect for you. Who’s doing the show? Is it that Edwards guy?” He meant Cameron Edwards, NewSpin’s most well-known “reporter”—he was really more of a glorified talk show host.
“Like I said, we’re still working out details. I know as much as I’m sharing with you guys right now. As soon as I know more, I’ll tell you.”
“Well, congrats, man. I know you’ve been wanting something like this for a long time,” Nate said. “Who knows? Maybe it’ll lead to something more permanent. Maybe we’ll all be NewSpin employees soon.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” Lane said. “This smells like a ratings grab to me.”
“It makes perfect sense. I’m suddenly a hot commodity,” I said and Lane laughed.
“And that trademark modesty still hasn’t left you. That’s admirable,” he said. “Still, this doesn’t sit well with me. It’s weird.”
“It isn’t. It’s a great opportunity for both parties. We’ll get a huge boost in audience and they’ll get a huge boost in ratings. The show will be popcorn TV, perfect for NewSpin’s viewers. Look, I know this is sudden and weird, but it’s going to be great. Maybe once we’re done with it I’ll be able to afford to get us a bigger office.”
“That would be a small miracle,” Nate said and everyone laughed. We were definitely outgrowing the space.
“When do we announce to the public?” Joel asked. I’d forgotten he was standing behind me.
“Not yet. Not until we have concrete details. We’ll have to be careful how we play it. And by the way, this stays here in this office for now, understood?” I asked the office. “If this leaks, I’ll know where it came from.” No one said anything.
“Good. Back to work, everyone,” I said and they all poured back into whatever corner of the office they’d been working in except for Joel.
“I still can’t believe this,” he laughed.
“Well at least someone besides me is happy about it,” I said. “Which makes me wonder… Why are you so supportive of this, anyway? You’re usually the first person to shit on things, especially fun things.”
“Thanks,” Joel said. “I dunno, maybe I feel bad for nagging you all the time. And you’re right, this is gonna be good for all of us. I’m excited to see where it goes. I don’t see a downside to it.”
“That’s because there isn’t one.”
“Hell of a way to start the new year, huh?”
“Seriously. And it’s only going to get better from here,” I said, daring to hope that by the next time the ball dropped to celebrate a new year, I’d be one of the co-hosts.
5
Jeff
From the second I stepped into the NewSpin offices on my first day there, my face still frozen solid from the whipping January air, I knew it wasn’t going to be an easy day. No one greeted me, barely anyone looked up at me. Not even Chase was there to give me another dose of his shit. I didn’t know where to go or what to do, so I wandered into the newsroom until a short kid with spiky brown hair stopped me.
“Whoa, what are you doing?” he asked, looking me up and down. “You don’t have a badge. Are you even supposed to be here?”
“You do know who I am, don’t you?” I asked and the kid’s face changed almost instantly as his eyes settled on my face.
“Oh, shit. You’re Jeff Taylor.”
“In the very cold flesh.”
“Sorry, things are a little crazy today. But it’s good we met because I’m actually going to be your mentor or whatever for a while until you learn the ropes around here,” the kid said and I had to stifle a laugh. A 20-something really thought he was going to show me, a veteran of the industry and a man easily twice his age, around a newsroom like I’d never seen one before. Instead of laughing, I sighed.
“Great. What’s your name?”
“Dylan. Dylan Pearson,” he said, offering me a hand to shake. “I gotta say, I’m honored to meet you, Mr. Taylor.”
“OK, first thing, don’t call me ‘Mister’ ever again. I’m not that old,” I said and his face turned beet red. I tended to have that effect on people. It wasn’t like I wanted to be a dick, sometimes I just came across that way. At 40 and after spending twenty years in journalism, I didn’t have the time or patience for pleasantries.
“Right, sorry, Miste—I mean, Jeff,” Dylan stuttered, and I could almost see him mentally kicking himself.
“It’s fine. So, you’re my tour guide for the day, huh? Got a lot of awesome things planned for me?”
“Yeah, something like that. We do things a little differently around here, s
o Lee thought it might be a good idea if I got you acclimated before we turned you loose.”
“That sounds like a fantastic idea,” I said and Dylan smirked uncomfortably. “So, what are we supposed to be covering first?”
“Well, I don’t think we’re going to have you doing any real work today. Not yet. Lee said something about finishing up paperwork for your hire so I’m supposed to give you a tour of the office and everything while he wraps that up.”
“Shall we get started, then?” I asked, losing my patience. Dylan seemed totally flustered, like I was some sort of celebrity worth fawning over. I’d always hated being treated that way because I was a journalist, not a movie star, and now that I’d been downgraded to a D-lister at best in the media world, I hated Dylan admiring me more.
“Right, yeah. Let me run these papers to Lee really quick,” he said, holding up a stack of documents I hadn’t noticed he was holding. “I was on my way over there when I ran into you. I’ll be right back,” he said and darted off to the back of the newsroom to Lee’s office. I watched the two of them talk for a few minutes until Lee turned and waved to me. I waved back, unsure of what else I was supposed to do, and then Dylan returned.
“Sorry about that. So, I guess we’ll start the tour or whatever.”
“You don’t actually have to do that,” Lee called as he approached from his office. “Jesus, Dylan. I was joking,” he said and patted Dylan on the shoulder. “Forgive him. He’s a little too eager to help sometimes,” Lee said.
“Not exactly a bad trait to have in this job. I bet you learn a lot more than you’re supposed to know,” I said and Dylan smiled and nodded.
“Right, then. Back to work, Dill. Come with me, Jeff.”
“It was nice to meet you, Jeff,” Dylan said, offering me an awkward wave. He was dorky and weird, but I kinda liked him despite it.
“Yeah, sure. Likewise,” I said and set off for Lee’s office. Inside, Lee closed the door behind us and the blinds that draped his glass windows.
“What’s with the secrecy?” I asked as I took the same seat I’d had the day before.
“It’s warranted in this case, trust me. I don’t want the rest of them knowing about this just yet.”
“Knowing about what?”
“I’m glad you asked,” Lee said, rubbing his hands together excitedly as he sat down across from me. “Remember how I said you and I could make magic together? Well, my friend, magic is underway.”
“Alright, you’ve got my ear. What are you planning?”
“As you may or may not know, NewSpin is an online-only company. But you may not’ve known that we’re trying to branch out. You know, diversifying the portfolio and all of that. We’ve been watching the traditional news market for months now, waiting for the right opportunity to dip our toes in the wild waters, so I admit part of the reason I wanted to hire you so badly was to have a foot into that particular door.”
“Sounds like a pretty solid strategy to me,” I said, shrugging. “Cable news is still a huge money maker and it’s a tough business to get started in.”
“Right, exactly. But it’s not enough just to get our foot in the door. Now that GNN is, well, a little incapacitated after your sudden departure and their inability to find a replacement for you, a bit of a vacuum has appeared in the cable news arena. You’d think that your competitors would just absorb your now-available ratings, but we haven’t seen that happen since you left GNN and I don’t expect it to.”
“And why do you think that is?”
“People liked you, Jeff. Like, really, genuinely liked you and there just isn’t a replacement for you out there. No one has the voice that you have, nor the skill.”
“So what are you trying to get at here?”
“Man, you really are a journalist, aren’t you? Always looking for the real story.”
“Call it a bad habit.”
“It’s not, though. It’s what makes you, you.”
“Are you trying to tell me you want to give me a show on NewSpin?”
“Yes and no.”
“Yes and no? I’m not following. It’s one or the other.”
“Not necessarily. I’d like to run something past you, but first I want your word you won’t overreact.”
“You say that like I have a reputation for it or something,” I said, and Lee laughed.
“Well…”
“Yeah, alright, you have my word. I won’t flip out. I think I’ve done enough of that lately.”
“Good. OK. So, here’s the pitch. Imagine yourself as an anchor in a documentary series, maybe six episodes or so to start. We’d put it all up on the site at once, Netflix-style, to encourage binge watching.”
“OK, so it would kinda be my show, but I’d be covering other people and subjects? I kinda like the idea so far. It’s not something I’ve done before, but I’d appreciate the challenge. Who or what is it on?”
“The state of the media, of course.”
“Even better. Do you have some people lined up for me to talk to, or something particular in mind, or am I just going vlog style and documenting what I think?”
“I do have someone lined up, a controversial figure who could make for some really great programming,” Lee said, his eyes straying away from mine and making me feel more than a little uneasy about the direction the conversation had taken.
“Who is it?”
“Remember, you promised not to flip.”
“I did promise and I’ll keep it. Now, who is it?”
“Kile Avery,” he said, and immediately my head spun away in a million different directions, tugged at by as many or more competing thoughts. NewSpin wanted me to work with Kile Avery—the very guy who’d been the catalyst for my meltdown and current situation—and sing his praises in some bullshit documentary. It all made sense now. Lee had never intended to bring me on as a legitimate journalist, he only wanted to bring me on as ratings bait, to throw me to the wolves on camera. As much as I wanted to flip out, I did promise I wouldn’t, and I had to admire Lee’s tactics.
“Jeff?” Lee asked, waving a hand in front of me. “Did I lose you?”
“I… I don’t know what to say,” I said, though it was far from the truth. “Is this some kind of joke?” What I really wanted to do was tell Lee where he could go and how he could get there, but the question came out instead. My face burned with anger but I did my best to contain it. Lashing out hadn’t done me any favors lately.
“It’s not a joke. And all you have to say is yes.”
“Lee, you know as well as I do I can’t do this.”
“Bullshit. You totally can. The only question is if you will. If not, hey, no hard feelings, but your job here might be in jeopardy. The only way the higher ups would even let me make you an offer is if I agreed to this,” he said, all of the humor gone from his tone. He was totally, deadly serious. And he had me exactly where he wanted me because he knew I couldn’t say no and I also couldn’t direct my anger at him because the decision had been out of his hands—or so he said.
“I knew this was all too good to be true,” I said and Lee chuckled.
“Jeff, you make it sound like I’m some sort of schemer,” he said and I raised my eyebrows at him. “OK, so maybe this was all a little less than truthful on my part, but it’s no different than when you omitted a bit of the truth, is it?”
“Can I at least have some time to think this over?” I asked. At that particular moment, all I really wanted to do was get the hell out of Lee’s office and back out into the freezing morning air to clear my head because I knew I was trapped but I didn’t know how I was going to make it through the project without tearing into Avery again.
“Sure. But I want an answer by close of business today,” Lee said as he sat back in his chair and rested his hands on his stomach.
“Right, yeah, of course,” I said, feeling disconnected from my body as the words came out of it. I stood up and walked to the door. My hand had just touched the handle when Lee cl
eared his throat to get my attention.
“Yes?” I asked as I turned to face him again.
“Don’t throw this away, Jeff,” he said.
“I won’t,” I said and stepped out of the office, letting it slam behind me. The noise made dozens of heads look up to find me standing like a deer in the headlights. Ignoring them, I set off for the front door, desperate to get some air and put a bit of space between myself and all of their prying eyes. I’d nearly gotten there when Dylan’s face swam into my peripheral, clearly trying to intercept me.
“Jeff, wait!” he called and though I picked up my pace to beat him to the door, he still managed to get there before I did. “Look, I know you probably don’t like what you just heard, but can we talk about it?” he asked and I had to stop.
“Wait, you knew about this?”
“Yeah, of course I did. Lee told me this morning. He wanted me to help brace you for it, hence the office tour and all of that other stuff he told me to show you, but I guess he changed his mind or something.”
“Unbelievable,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “Who else knows about this?”
“A few people. Higher ups, I think. I was sworn to secrecy about it.”
“No wonder he likes you,” I said.
“Being a brown noser has its perks, I won’t lie. Come on, let’s go get a coffee or something,” Dylan said, gesturing to the door. “It’s on me.”
“Please, Dylan. I’m not that broke or desperate,” I said and he laughed. I didn’t really want to go with him; I just wanted to be alone and stew, but I knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I followed him through the front door and out onto the sidewalk. The wind tore through my clothes, but I savored the feeling as it stole the breath from my lungs.
“I know a really great place near the circle, come on,” Dylan said, wrapping his arms around his chest to pull the coat he’d brought tighter around himself as he tore off down the sidewalk. Clearly, he wasn’t interested in the cold. I trotted after him for about a block down New Hampshire until we got to Dupont. Dylan took a hard right into the circle toward a bookstore and ducked inside. I followed him in, confused, until my nostrils were greeted with the sweet, sweet scent of coffee grounds.
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