Love. Local. Latebreaking.: Book 1 in the newsroom romance series

by H. Laurence Lareau

  Karli laughed, too. Then, together, they both said, “I’ve got something—”

  Jake laughed again, eased back into his chair, and said, “Okay, you go first.”

  Karli settled into her chair and took a drink of wine to fill the space. “You know I had dinner with Bielfeldt and Schultz last night, right?” Jake nodded, and Karli continued. “Well, they have inside sources, and they swore me to secrecy. But you’re in this, so you deserve to know. And besides, I have to tell someone, and you’re ... well, you’re you, you know.”

  Jake was doing his best not to show the impatience he felt with all the unintelligible build-up. Then Karli leaned over the table and whispered, “Our stories are going to win an Emmy. It’s locked up. We just have to keep it completely secret until the awards banquet in June.”

  The gratifying rush of warmth to his cheeks rode atop Jake’s growing smile. “That really is news, Karli! Congratulations to us,” he finished, raising his glass again.

  “That isn’t the news, really,” she continued. “Jerry has offered me the job of ‘Iowa’s Premiere Field Reporter’.” Her voice made the title’s quotes and caps explicit.

  “Well, that’s something indeed!” Jake said. “I assume that means our renewable energy series and documentary is totally green-lighted now?” His excitement grew as he went on, “And you’ll really be in control of other awesome new stories, too—stuff that can really change trends.”

  “Not really, Jake,” she responded.

  Then, to his surprise, she began to giggle. “They want me to judge husband-calling contests and milk goats and stuff. There is absolutely no way I am going to quit an actual career as a reporter and sign up instead to ride parade floats and be the celebrity starter for the charity 5K races.”

  “I’m sure they would be willing to let you do actual reporting if that’s what you want,” Jake replied. “Airhead TV ‘personalities’ are the ones who always want to be the celebrity rather than the actual journalist.” Jake was gratified to hear that the station would be acknowledging that Karli had actual leverage to negotiate terms for a bigger role.

  “Oh, but that part isn’t the news, really, either,” Karli said. “Some of the Emmy judges are higher-ups at the big network owned-and-operated station in Chicago. And they’ve offered me a job covering a beat for me to develop on my own, starting in two weeks.”

  All the blood in Jake’s body slammed down to his stomach, and his ears filled with a loud rushing pounding. He slid the little box back into his pocket. His cheeks were suddenly cold and his lips numb. He fumbled his wine glass to his mouth and drained it with an enormous, untasted gulp.

  “What did you say to them?”

  “Well, I have to take the job, of course. This is what I’ve been working for ever since I started at Missou. Just think—the third-largest market in the nation, with more than twice as many people in the metro than there are in the entire state of Iowa! This is the dream job I’ve always talked about, Jake. And it’s completely on my terms.”

  Jake slowly refilled his glass, then raised it to her and said, “Here’s to your career.” He dropped his eyes from hers to take a sip. It was not satisfying. Jake looked at and then carefully sniffed the wine to see if it had gone bad. It hadn’t.

  “Oh, it gets better, Jake—they said they’d like to interview you and see if you’d be a good fit there, too. They were really impressed with your work, too.”

  “Wow. That’s really nice of them,” Jake said, through as much of a smile as he could force onto his lips. “I’ll have to see about that.” Never in a million years, Karli Lewis. I’ve looked down that road already, and there’s nothing there but stress and backstabbing competition. And very little of the community participation that there is here. It’s too bad you can’t see it for what it is.

  “So, let’s celebrate, Jake! I’m so glad I can share this with you, since you did so much to help my dream-job come true.”

  “Yeah, well, anything to help, you know.”

  Robert brought their dishes, and Karli dove in with real enjoyment. Jake picked at his food and did considerable work with his wine glass.

  “So overall, the whole situation in Chicago is going to be fantastic,” Karli gushed. “They’ve even got a downtown condo that the station owns where they’ll put me up indefinitely. That means as long as I want, they’re going to pay the rent for me. In downtown Chicago, that is a heap of money. And they’re just giving it to me.” Jake saw that Karli was genuinely puzzled at the station’s “generosity.”

  “So, that condo is probably right there in the same building as the newsroom, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “Yes, it is!” she cried in tones of wonder. “How did you know that?”

  “Oh, let me see if I can make this into a streak,” Jake continued. “I’ll bet there’s a health club right there for you, too.” Karli nodded, her eyebrows starting to come together and make vertical wrinkles above her nose. “And this one came as a real surprise: They will even cater in your meals if you’re working late, won’t they?”

  “Yes,” Karli responded slowly. Jake saw the tense questioning on her face, and quietly concluded. “They want to own your whole life, Karli. They want you to live and eat and work out on site so you won’t have any pesky actual life intruding into your work life. They’ve recruited you into an occupational lifestyle, not into a job.”

  “But Jake, that’s what I’ve been working for ever since Missou,” she replied. “I am so fired up for this. Living the work and doing the work I want to do is what I’ve always been shooting for.”

  Jake looked at her, holding her eyes with his own till she looked aside and then down to her plate. You don’t realize that you’re putting what you used to think you wanted ahead of what you have learned you actually want. And I don’t know how long it will take you to figure that out. He sighed, handed the passing server a credit card, and said, “Well, congratulations again. I hope it all works out the way you want.”

  “Jake, don’t be like this,” Karli said. “I want this to be a happy thing, and you’re making it all dramatic and about something else.” He watched her face scrunch up the way it does when someone isn’t sure if they’re going to cry or not.

  “We’ve never said we’re more than an in-the-moment thing, and I don’t want to be made to feel all guilty because I’m making the big mean choice to leave you. Because I have my chance at what I’ve always wanted.”

  She paused and looked at her hands, folded over the napkin in her lap, then she looked back up at him. “You’re really special, Jake, and you mean a lot to me, okay?” He could see her swallow and take a big breath.

  “But I can’t put my life on hold for a man, any man. My dad wants me to live the life he has cooked up for me, and now you’re making me feel like I should be living some other life you decided on for me. Well, I’m not going to read my lines off someone else’s script. I have to make my own choices about what my life is going to be like.”

  Jake took the little wallet with the receipt and his credit card sticking out of it from Robert, wrote in a tip, signed, and set it on the table. “Karli, I haven’t said a thing about how you should live your life. I have congratulated you and wished you the best,” he said. “You’re right that I have other ideas, but I have never said anything about how I think you should live your life. If you’re feeling guilty, it’s not because I’ve laid that on you.”

  “Oh, so this is all my doing, then, is it?” Karli responded angrily. “If I’m feeling guilty, it’s my own fault, right, and I should feel guilty about that, too, right?”

  “That’s not what I said, either.”

  “No, of course not,” Karli’s fury rolled on. “You’re just the latest man who wants to control me.”

  Jake rose from the table and turned to leave. He went about two steps, paused, turned, and found Karli’s eyes. “No, Karli. I’m not trying to control you. I’m trying to tell you that I love you. And that I love you enough to l
et you find your own way.”

  He began turning to leave, stopped, then reached into his pocket and turned back to Karli. “Here. I guess it’s my turn, now that you’re all finished,” he said, opening the box and handing it to her. He watched her pull out the elaborate platinum charm bracelet with an appreciative gasp.

  As she minutely examined each custom-made charm—a covered bridge, a tiny ram with prominent testicles, a miniature microphone, a camera, a little bulletproof vest, a bicycle, a tiny Three NewsFirst logo, and the initials J.G.—he turned and moved silently to leave the restaurant, and Karli.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Karli’s Apartment

  West Des Moines, Iowa

  Thursday evening, May 1

  “That’s the last of it,” darkly handsome Scott Winstead said, slapping his hands clean of cardboard-box dust and examining the stuffed trunk of Karli’s Saab outside her apartment complex. “These few boxes don’t seem like they’re worth the pizza and beer,”

  “I didn’t have room for much stuff in college, and then all I could afford at my last job was a really small efficiency, so I didn’t get more stuff. This place is furnished, and I’ve been so busy here that I haven’t had much need for, you know, things.”

  “You know how to travel light,” Scott said, shaking his head. “I never thought I’d be here very long, but it’s been five years now, and I’ll bet I’ve accumulated enough stuff to fill one of those giant rental trucks.” He shook his head slowly, as though considering the wearying burdens of moving to another city. “So how big is your new place going to be? Big enough to hang at least a picture or two?”

  Saying this, he reached into the trunk and pulled out a picture. The frame was still bound at the corners with protective layers of cardboard linked with strapping tape. Scott turned the picture over and found a black-and-white close-up photo of Karli’s beaming face, lit and shaded by a setting, golden-hour sun. Karli saw Scott react to the picture in stages: first, surprise that it was a portrait, then a quick glance at her face for comparison, then a lingering professional assessment.

  “He really caught a look inside you, you know?” he said, looking carefully from the picture to Karli herself. “This picture has all the stuff that Bielfeldt was talking about when he was going on about being inspirational. Jake’s composition—you off to the edge and against that soft background—is unforgettable. It’s inspirational, too. Every man wants to make a woman smile just exactly like that. That smile is a discovery, the place where men find the promised land.” Scott paused, looking hard at the picture, a corner of his mouth tugged in apparent regret or chagrin or something. “It had to be Jake, right?”

  Kari nodded, stiffly, just as he looked up from the photo. Then he met Karli’s eyes. “I had kind of hoped I’d find out if I could make you smile like that. But you were so bombed on the single night I thought I might have a chance...” His voice trailed off to a momentary silence. “I was getting kind of pumped when you went on and on all about being fully ready and extra-willing, but then I realized that you were slurring every single word. You were just too wasted. I couldn’t even try for a kiss in good conscience.”

  “Please, Scott, let’s not talk about that night. It took me two days of aspirins, water, and chocolate milkshakes to escape that hangover. And I’m not sure I recall—or even want to recall—all the details of my behavior leading up to the headaches.”

  “It’s long gone, I know,” he said, shaking his head. “And besides, you’re headed off to the big show now, so it’s not like there’s going to be a less-wasted opportunity any time soon.” He paused, then added, “Of course, I did send a new link to my reel a few days ago—maybe I’ll be joining you someday.” He shrugged, put the picture back, and swung the trunk closed.

  He looked at the Florida license plate that still sat in the Missou frame. “You made it out of Des Moines before your Florida plate expired. That’s fast work, Karli.”

  “I’m not leaving until after work tomorrow, but I have to be out of my place tonight so the new tenant can move in. And thanks to your help, it’s all cleaned out now, so it’s time for that pizza and beer. Mary Rose is letting me crash on her couch tonight, so she gets some, too.”

  They drove off separately to the Court Avenue area, where the nightlife emphasis means the beer usually sells better than the pizza.

  Scott, who was parked behind Karli, could see enough to know that she didn’t look back except to check for traffic.

  Chapter Thirty

  Fong’s Pizza

  Downtown Des Moines, Iowa

  Thursday evening, May 1

  “I hope it isn’t too sappy, but I got you this card as a going-away thing,” Mary Rose said, handing Karli a small USB drive. “Well, it has a kind of a card inside, anyway. I put a couple little things I made for you on it. You can check it out when you get to the new shop and have access to a computer again.”

  “Thank you, Mary Rose,” Karli said, taking the thumb drive and then taking the other woman’s hand. “That sounds like a lot of work.”

  “No big,” Mary Rose shrugged. “You’ve been a good friend, and you helped me finally bust out of the studio and into the field.” She ran her fingers through her bright blue hair and glanced over at Scott. “And it looks like I’m going to be shooting a lot of sports this summer, too. The Drake Relays may be over, but there’s a lot coming up fast—the State high school track meet is just a couple of weeks away, and there’s all the spring collegiate wrap-ups, and it seems like the summer balloons from there.”

  Scott looked at her in surprise, “Since when do shooters know about event schedules? I thought you just drove there and then bitched about having to carry the tripod.”

  Mary Rose treated Scott to a broad, triumphant smile that was interrupted by her tongue sticking out to make her piercing click audibly against her front teeth.

  “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, sweetie. I learned a few things about doing my homework before covering a story from our friend Karli. You’re going to have to step up your game if you want to keep up with me.” She gave him a mischievously challenging look, then bumped her beer into his where it sat on the table in front of him in a semi-voluntary toast. “Let the games begin.” Karli watched as Scott’s mouth silently opened and shut in speechless surprise.

  “Careful there, Scott,” Karli said. “She’s full of surprises.”

  Karli’s attention was drawn to voices shrieking greetings across the restaurant. One was a familiar voice, unfortunately. “Oh, geez. It’s Sophia.”

  “Oh look, it’s little Karli,” she shrilled while tugging on the sleeve of the competition’s Donald Harris. They walked noisily over to the table, making sure every eye in the restaurant was on them.

  “Hello, Sophia. Still dating the competition, I see?”

  “Oh, Donald isn’t the competition any more. I thought you’d heard?” Sophia’s eyes swept the room, making sure she still had the crowd’s attention.

  “Heard what? That Jerry lowered his standards enough to bring him on board at Three NewsFirst?” Karli looked straight at Sophia though Harris obviously took offense, to judge by his sudden snap of the head toward Karli and his fists balling up at his side. “You can try telling me that, but I’m not buying.”

  Sophia turned to her companion and placed a calming hand on his arm. “But Donald isn’t my competition any more, Karli. This is all about raising standards. The up-and-coming station in Indianapolis was looking for a 6:00 and 10:00 anchor to lead them to the number one spot in the ratings. They happened to see my anchor work during the flooding, and they decided that they just had to have me.”

  “So you’re moving to a second-place shop?” Karli asked, her voice brimming with false enthusiasm. “Congratulations. I’m sure you’ll fit in perfectly.”

  “I’m going to be the main anchor, Karli,” Sophia fairly spat. “Which is something you’ll never be. You have to sit on a booster just to get your head over the top of the
anchor desk.”

  “How much notice are you giving Jerry?” Karli asked, her eyes wide with feigned concern. “Filling your position is going to be extremely difficult.”

  Actually, it may be really hard to fill, Karli thought. She’s all bitch, but Sophia is very good on camera—good enough to balance out Stu. It’s going to be hard for Jerry to find someone as good as she is to come out here to corn country for the weekend job.

  “They’re designing and building a whole new set for me in Indy, so Three NewsFirst gets to keep me till the middle of June.”

  “The awards banquet is that first week of June, isn’t it? Do you think you’ll be invited even though you’re on the way out?”

  Karli’s iPhone chirruped an alert.

  She pulled it out and looked at the text from her father. “Mom and I are planning a visit to you in Chicago for the week of June 2. Booked at Intercontinental on Michigan. When you get tired of the big city, there will be a great job for you here. Can’t wait to celebrate!” Karli replied with a smile emoji.

  Smiling to herself, Karli looked up at Sophia. “I’m sorry, were you saying something?”

  Sophia, obviously frustrated at being upstaged by a text message, glowered down at Karli. “Oh, nothing that bears repeating. Good luck in your new beat-reporter job.” She said beat-reporter in tones implying it was several steps below septic tank. “Come on, Donald. Let’s find a seat on the other side of this place.” She snared his arm into her own and dragged him off, away from Karli’s table.

  “What about that awards banquet, Karli?” Scott asked. “You and Jake did some excellent work this spring—and Bielfeldt was talking Emmy, wasn’t he?”

  “I’d love to go, but I’ll be plugging away at my new dream job. I’ll have to leave it to you all to celebrate for me if there’s any hardware being passed out.”