“And tell him what?” Brooke challenged. “That the biggest crook in our government is an old friend to whom you are beholden, and you just didn’t have the heart to expose him? How do you think that is going to go over, Jeremy? Do you think Milt will just say ‘Oh, well, that’s okay then.’ Because he won’t. Milt Cramer is a newsman. He would turn in his own mother if she was stealing from anyone.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to tell him,” Jeremy said. “I have to figure it out. But I’m not reneging on my word to Tug. Someone else might get this story...”
“Someone else will!” Brooke practically shouted at him. “And it won’t be you, and it won’t be WJQC. We had our shot at this, and you let sentimentality dictate your behavior. That’s not being a newsman, Jeremy. That’s blowing everything we’ve worked for. Milt will tell you that, too.”
“So maybe I’m not a newsman,” Jeremy said. “But here’s what I don’t get, Brooke. What’s your stake in this? Why are you getting so upset over one story? I kind of thought by now that I meant more to you than that. What do you do, live, sleep and drink the news? There’s more to life than that.”
What was her stake in this? If he only knew. But she’d sworn to Milt that she wouldn’t tell him and, anyway, now that she’d been keeping the truth hidden for so long, she didn’t know how to reveal everything now. She straightened her spine, took a deep breath and said, “Yeah? Well, this is your dream, not mine. I was just helping you to live it. But maybe I’ve made a mistake.”
He wouldn’t look at her. He simply mumbled, “Maybe you have.”
“I’m going to the car,” she said. “Are you com—”
“You go ahead,” he said. “I’ll take a cab.”
“Fine.” She hurried away from him and stood by the car until Nate had loaded his equipment. They drove off, neither of them speaking for several minutes.
“What the heck happened back there?” Nate finally said.
“Jeremy knew Kirby Davis from years back. He didn’t want to expose him.” Even when Brooke related the last few minutes so simply to Nate, her anger spiked again.
“Wow, Milt is going to blow a gasket,” Nate said. “He told me to make sure everything was working just right and keep the camera on Davis as much as possible. I think he really wanted to see the guy sweat.”
“Oh, I think Davis has plenty of sweating ahead of him,” Brooke said. “But it won’t be WJQC who gets the scoop.”
“I probably shouldn’t say anything...”
“What, Nate? You can’t not tell me now. What have you heard?”
“Just that Milt isn’t as confident in Crockett as he thought he’d be. I was working the camera when Jeremy did that test the other day. It wasn’t pretty, Brooke. You’re going to have to give him more camera time than those few tests you’ve already arranged.”
“If Milt doesn’t fire him first,” she said.
Nate shook his head. “One thing I know about Milt is that he doesn’t like anyone to think he made a mistake, and this would be a big one if things don’t turn around.”
Brooke cringed just thinking about the possible shake-up at the station once Milt heard about the fiasco at city hall. Jeremy would be gone. She would be gone. Who would fill that anchor’s chair if that happened? And who would produce the news? She couldn’t help reminding herself of that old adage No One is Indispensable. She just wished it wouldn’t apply to her.
Brooke had loved her job since the first day she’d walked into the station as a copywriter. She’d moved quickly up the ladder, and had been producing for almost ten years now. Every day presented new challenges, tough decisions, last-minute revisions. The job was not without pressure, but Brooke thrived on it. She never understood her sister’s decision to move to a small farm and live a peaceful, calm life. Tension fed Brooke’s soul. And that wasn’t even counting the lifestyle her producer job had provided.
Brooke had a mortgage on a desirable condo in the best part of town. She had nice things that she was grateful for. She worked hard and she vacationed hard, earning her time off honestly. She’d been to many corners of the world, always taking in the sights with a producer’s eyes. How much of this life would she have to give up when Milt fired her? She didn’t want to think about it. The truth was, she didn’t want to give up any of it.
But then Jeremy Crockett walked into the station and everything changed. The smooth-running but less-than-spectacular years of Fred Armitage were coming to an end. A true personality—a local hero—was slated to take Fred’s place. Jeremy was meant to shake up the viewing audience with his good looks, reputation and modest demeanor. Brooke had never imagined he couldn’t do the job. That he wouldn’t do the job. He’d been such a quick study, cooperative, willing to learn. And today, on his first assignment coming from Milt’s own desk, Jeremy had blown it.
But in the meantime, Brooke had fallen for the guy. She hadn’t meant to, but for the first time in her modern memory, she’d actually placed a man at the top of her list of priorities. A man with kids, no less. A man who lived in the country. And now she was facing not only giving up her life, but also giving up the man who’d made her days at WJQC even better than they’d been.
She looked out the passenger window of the WJQC vehicle. No way was she going to let Nate see the emotions she was feeling now. She’d been so close to having it all—the job, the man, the future. Maybe that had been Brooke’s dream, but it was no more credible than Jeremy’s dream. They’d both wished for too much.
Brooke ran into Milt the minute she entered the station.
“How’d it go?” he asked her. “I want to see the tape. Did Davis squirm?”
“Not exactly,” Brooke said.
“Why? Jeremy didn’t get him to talk?”
“Jeremy didn’t try,” she said.
“Huh? What does that mean?”
“He’ll tell you when he gets here,” Brooke said. “But there is no interview.”
“I made it clear to both of you...” Milt’s puffy cheeks were red with anger.
“I’m going home, Milt,” Brooke said. “I’ve got some thinking to do.”
“You’re darn right you do,” Milt said.
She left, went directly home, poured a glass of wine and sat on her balcony looking over the grand old homes of Charleston. She was struggling with a massive case of self-pity, and Brooke Montgomery didn’t do self-pity well at all.
After an hour, her phone rang. She picked up, saw Jeremy’s cell number. Her heart raced. He was calling to say he’d screwed up. He was going to apologize. Maybe she could get Milt to give them another chance. Maybe he would contact Davis on his own.
“Hello? Jeremy?”
“It’s not Daddy,” a small female voice said. “It’s me, Alicia. I’m using Daddy’s phone.”
Brooke blinked several times. “Oh, hi,” she said. “Is something wrong, Alicia?”
“You were supposed to come here tonight,” the girl said. “I was waiting for you. I have some pictures to show you. Now Daddy says you’re not coming.”
“I’m so sorry,” Brooke said, trying to think of something that wasn’t a tired old phrase like “something came up” or “I’m not feeling well.” Instead, she said, “What are the pictures, Alicia? Can you tell me about them at least?”
“They’re pictures of my mommy and me. I thought you would like them. You said...”
The child’s voice caught on a sob. Brooke had gotten through to her during her last visit, and now she’d let her down. “Describe them to me, sweetheart,” Brooke said. “I promise I want to see them, and I will, another time.”
“It’s okay.” Alicia sniffed. Brooke closed her eyes tight. “I have stuff to do now.”
They disconnected, and Brooke realized she’d just experienced a first in her life. This was the first time she’d ever made a child cry. And even mor
e remarkable, this was the first time a child had brought tears to her own eyes.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JEREMY WENT TO work the next day. When he pulled into the garage, he saw Brooke’s car. He was sorry for how they’d parted the evening before. They were both upset and angry, and today was probably too soon to try to make it right. Maybe they never would bridge the distance between them now, but Jeremy hoped they would.
He passed the conference room, where she usually was first thing in the morning, conducting a production meeting to review potential stories for that day’s broadcast. The door was closed. He didn’t go in. He didn’t have a right to be there. Perhaps he didn’t have a right to be anywhere in the station. He’d find out soon enough. He continued down the hall to Milt’s office.
He knocked on Milt’s door.
“Come in.” The voice that called out was gruff, cold, almost as if Milt knew who was on the other side of the door.
Jeremy entered.
“You’ve got some nerve, Crockett,” Milt said. “After that fiasco of yesterday afternoon.”
Jeremy swallowed what pride he had left. “I need to explain what happened, Milt.”
Milt crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. “Make it good, and make it fast.”
“Can I sit down?” Jeremy asked.
“Don’t bother. You won’t be here that long.”
Jeremy shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He’d never felt this uncomfortable in anyone’s presence. “I don’t know how much you heard, but I was put in a tough situation.”
“As far as I’m concerned, you were only put in one situation, and it was the one your boss specifically told you to be in. I don’t give a darn how tough it was for you, Jeremy. This is the news business, not some sports-bar gathering where you’re the big star.”
“I know that, sir, and I went to city hall fully prepared to deal with Davis, fully prepared to ask him hard questions.”
Milt didn’t utter a sound.
“I had no idea that the chief financial officer of Charleston used to be my coach at Bellingsworth. I knew Tug Davis back when I was really struggling. He got me into college, saved my sorry butt from making a complete failure of my life.”
Milt leaned forward, rested his elbows on the desktop. “You know what, Jeremy? I don’t care. We meet lots of people in this life. Some help us out. Some squash us like bugs. In the end, it’s up to each one of us to make the decisions that will help us succeed. In my view, you didn’t owe some football coach from a decade ago half as much as you owe the people of Charleston who might vote for him to be mayor.”
He narrowed his eyes. “And what exactly did you owe the people? The truth. And what did you give them? Nothing. Not a dang thing. You had your chance yesterday and you blew it, for yourself and for this station. You could have brought in a story that would have made the airwaves sizzle. But what did you do? You played footsie with a washed-up coach who probably wouldn’t give you the time of day off a football field.”
Jeremy bit his bottom lip to keep his anger in check. What did Milt Cramer know about Jeremy’s past, about his relationship with Tug? “With all due respect, sir, Tug Davis did a lot more for me than give me the time of day. I couldn’t be the one to drag him down. I know it’ll probably happen, but I couldn’t be the one to do it.”
He took a breath. “Besides, Milt, you didn’t hire me to be a reporter. I was willing to try. Heck, I’ve been willing to try everything in this station. I’ve worked cameras, studied budgets, played with lighting and modulated my darn voice until I’m practically hoarse. All that I did to be a good anchor, not an investigative reporter.”
“Seems like there’s one thing you forgot, Crockett,” Milt said. “To be a good anchor, you’ve got to deliver worthwhile news. And where that news comes from is the responsibility of everyone at WJQC. You let sentiment get in the way of your performance, and sentiment has no place in a newsroom.”
A long moment passed during which neither man spoke. Finally Jeremy decided it was time to discuss the bottom line, although he already had a pretty good idea where that line left him. “So what are you going to do, Milt? Are you going to fire me?”
“It’s what I should do,” Milt said. “There’s nobody else on this earth I would let get away with such a flagrant disregard for an order. But the truth is, I’m still thinking about what I’m going to do. You’ve got me over a barrel, Jeremy.”
“What are you talking about? We both know the contract has loopholes that will get either one of us out of the deal. Yeah, it may cost you a bit of money, but—”
“It’s not just about the money!” Milt said. “It’s my reputation that’s on the line here. I talked you up big, Jeremy, to the board of directors, to colleagues, to anyone in the news industry I thought would turn green with envy. And when word gets out that we could have had this story—”
“I don’t think it will, Milt,” Jeremy said. “I’m absolutely certain Tug won’t talk about it.”
“Oh, it’ll get out. There isn’t a hot news story in the city that isn’t like water in a sieve. And when it leaks, I’ll be ruined.” He shook his head. “But it’s not just your pitiful performance yesterday. I saw that audition tape. Sorry to be so blunt, Jeremy, but you stink.”
Jeremy’s deepest instinct was to quit on the spot, turn tail, walk out of WJQC and forget the whole thing. A man could take only so much criticism, and Jeremy had taken enough for ten men. But one thought kept him from following his instincts. Brooke. If he quit now, he would disappoint her, and he’d do almost anything to keep from doing that. “Brooke is working with me,” he said. “She has worked her heart out to make me an anchor. You know that. You asked her to tutor me. She volunteered, and it’ll kill her if this one incident blows my chances after all she’s done.”
Milt just stared at him for a long moment. “Right... Brooke,” he finally said. “That’s another decision I’ve got to make today.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Just leave my office, Crockett, will you? I’ve got a lot of thinking to do.”
Jeremy left Milt’s office. He didn’t know where he would go. Usually he met up with Brooke, scheduled a plan for the day and visited various departments in the building. Today he was lost, with no destination. Today might be his last.
The production meeting was just breaking up as he went by. Writers and editors filed out of the room. Brooke was the last one to leave, and Jeremy was waiting for her when she came into the hall.
“You speaking to me?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Do you still work here?”
She looked tired, like she hadn’t slept well. If so, they had a rotten, sleepless night in common. “It’s debatable,” he said. “Milt is thinking about it.”
She sighed. “Frankly, I don’t know what we should be doing. It’s time for you to make another audition tape, but maybe we don’t need to. If you’re not fired, Jeremy, you go on the air a week from Monday. Ten days from now. When do you think Milt will give you his decision?”
“The ball’s in his court,” Jeremy said. “But I’ve never had a dressing-down like the one I just got from him in his office. If I was a betting man, I’d put my money on me being in an unemployment line by tomorrow.”
She almost smiled. “Milt can be tough. But don’t jump to conclusions. He’s invested a lot in you, and I’m not just talking money. He’s invested his credibility in you, and if there’s one thing I know about Milt, he hates to lose face.”
Staff members walked by them, and Jeremy felt like he and Brooke were the biggest news of the day. Surely everyone in the building knew about his screwup with Tug. “Can we go somewhere for a cup of coffee?” he asked Brooke.
She checked her watch. “I have a few minutes, but only a few. Let’s go to the coffee
shop downstairs.”
They took the elevator down, then Jeremy ordered two cups of coffee and sat across from her at a small table. The restaurant wasn’t crowded.
“You know the worst part of this?” he began.
“I think I have a good idea,” she said.
“It’s that I disappointed you.”
She started to say something, and he held up his hand. “Let me finish. You’ve put so much effort into helping me. I’ve told you often enough how grateful I am. I actually think I’m ready to go on the air, and it’s all because of you.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why you took on this assignment. I’ve wondered about that a hundred times at least. I can’t imagine why you thought a banged-up jock would make a good anchor, but I never once thought that you didn’t believe I would.”
“I do believe it,” she said. “I still do. That’s what makes this such a difficult situation. If Milt fires you...” She paused, looked down. He waited.
“If Milt fires you,” she continued, “it’s a darn shame that the people of Charleston won’t see the amazing transformation of wide receiver to polished newsman. And that’s not all my doing. You’ve worked hard, too.” She took a long sip of her coffee. “So don’t give me the credit. I don’t deserve it. I just wish you had—”
“I know, and even when I promised Tug I wouldn’t bring him down, I was thinking about you, what you expected of me, how you would think differently of me now.”
She didn’t say anything. She just sat there and turned her coffee cup in her hand.
Finally he said, “Do you, Brooke? Do you think differently of me?”
“As a member of WJQC, I guess I do.”
“I’m sorry. And I have to be honest with you. If I could go back and do yesterday over again, I wouldn’t change anything.”
She stared at him with wide, luminescent eyes and shook her head. “I know that.”
He reached across the table and took her hand. “But what about your thoughts on you and me? Can you get over what I did? Or have I ruined everything?”
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