The Woman in the News

by K. N. Casper

He nodded.

  “Faye received a call from a news guy in Philadelphia, Jacobs—”

  “Dick Jacobs?” He was the news director at the network affiliate in Philly. He and Dick went back to their college days and had kept in touch, though Renn hadn’t talked to him since arriving at KNCS last summer.

  “That’s him. Apparently, they’ve had a sports reporter position posted for some time. Marlee e-mailed him a couple of days ago to find out if it was still available. Before this Jacobs guy answered, he wanted to check her out. I guess you weren’t in yet, because Trish transferred the call to Faye.”

  Renn felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. “And…?”

  “I—”

  He smiled to reassure her. “You happened to overhear.”

  She lowered her head and bit her lip.

  “What did Faye tell him?”

  “That Marlee isn’t a team player, that she’s a publicity hound.” She frowned, hesitated another moment, then pressed on defiantly. “That she’s more interested in advancing her career than promoting the station. That she had to be reprimanded for unprofessional conduct.”

  Renn felt his blood pressure rise. “That’s not true.”

  “I just thought you ought to know what she’s saying.”

  The situation was far worse than he’d imagined. KNCS-TV was devouring its own.

  “Thanks, Maxine. I appreciate your coming to me with this. Don’t worry about Faye. She won’t hear a word about this conversation from me. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anybody else, either.”

  “I won’t. If it were anyone but Marlee, I wouldn’t even have told you, but…well…I figured you’d want to know.”

  Renn closed the door behind her and put in a call to his old friend. Dick Jacobs confirmed what she’d said: that Faye had given him a very negative report.

  “I was hoping she might work out,” Dick said. “The slot has been open for months because we need to fill it with a woman or a minority. Haven’t gotten any qualified candidates so far. A woman in sports would round out our team very nicely.”

  Renn didn’t dwell on the irony that she might get the job because she was a woman.

  “She’s good, Dick, so let me set the record straight.”

  A quarter of an hour later, he hung up the phone, sat quietly with his hands folded for several minutes, rose to his feet and climbed the stairs to the second floor.

  Faye looked up from her desk. “What is it now?” she asked impatiently, papers held firmly in her hands. From the frown on her face, they were the survey results Maxine had delivered. Marlee’s numbers were holding firm, while Taggart’s were steadily declining. An objective observer would conclude the expert analyst wasn’t viable as a solo act.

  “I want to know why you’re not satisfied with Marlee leaving,” he said calmly, “why you have to sabotage her reputation with other prospective employers.”

  She dropped the report on the desk and leaned back in her chair. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He assumed the seat across from her. “I just spent the last twenty minutes on the phone with an old friend of mine, Dick Jacobs. He asked me to confirm the information you gave him about Marlee. Why did you tell him she was only a passable reporter, that she was reprimanded for unprofessional conduct and that she had been given a pay cut?”

  “Because they’re all true.”

  “That’s a complete distortion and you know it.”

  Faye straightened, her gray eyes going battleship dark. “I specifically ordered you to reprimand her in writing for breaking the ten-minute rule and invading the TUCS locker room after the San Angelo game.”

  “You told me that’s what you wanted me to do. You didn’t order me to. If you had, I would have refused.” He met her unrelenting glare without flinching. “We got damn good ratings out of that incident. I don’t believe in punishing people for doing a good job and advancing our interests.”

  “So you disobeyed me.”

  “I ignored an unreasonable request.” In spite of his resolve to remain dispassionate—how could he possibly where Marlee was concerned—his heart was beginning to pound. “I did counsel her about using due diligence in her reporting, to carefully consider the possible repercussions of her actions, but I did not reprimand her verbally or in writing. If you want to hold that against me,” he added bluntly, “go right ahead, but you’re a little late. It happened months ago. Now, answer my question—”

  “Just a goddamn minute—”

  Renn bolted from the seat, swung around and closed the door, none too gently.

  “Answer my question.” He stood over her desk. “Why are you bad-mouthing Marlee Reid?”

  Faye Warren’s face froze with shock. No one talked to her that way or challenged her authority.

  “I was asked for my opinion of her performance and I responded with what I believed to be the truth.”

  “That’s a lie,” he spat out. “You also broke the law by revealing confidential employee information.”

  Shock turned to alarm at his raised voice. Instinctively, she pulled deeper into her well-padded seat.

  “She’s a damn good reporter,” Renn nearly shouted. “You never mentioned to Jacobs that she landed the interview with Hillman, when no one else was able to. That I nominated her for the Affiliated Press Award. That she’s been holding down the sports department single-handedly since Clark’s death. Or that the only reason she accepted a pay cut was that you threatened her with termination, though you had no legal basis for it. You lied by omission and petty-minded misrepresentation.”

  Faye’s jaw was jutted forward, her eyes hard and cold. She glared at him and took a deep breath. “I suggest you leave right now.” Her voice was raspy with wrath and maybe fear. “We’ll deal with this at another time, when you’re in better control of yourself.”

  “We’ll deal with it now.”

  With a shaky hand she started to reach for her telephone, probably to call for help.

  “What are you so afraid of, Faye? That your boyfriend will abandon you if you don’t give him a job you know full well he’s not qualified for? I used to respect you as a smart businesswoman. You didn’t get to be vice president of this station by being stupid, but putting your personal interests above those of the company that pays your salary is crazy and unworthy of you.”

  She jumped to her feet, her hands bunched into tight fists. “I’m warning you—”

  “You’ve won, Faye. Why the hell isn’t that enough? Marlee’s quitting, moving on. You can give your boyfriend the job and watch this place crumble under the weight of his overinflated ego. Why do you have to destroy Marlee’s chances of a decent career elsewhere? I don’t get it.”

  Faye slumped into her chair, her breathing deep and slow. Then her backbone seemed to stiffen.

  “Don’t be so sanctimonious, Renn,” she said, straightening up, her tone not intimidated but condescending. “Do you really think I and the rest of the staff don’t know you’re sleeping with Marlee? Hypocrisy doesn’t become you.”

  It was his turn to be stunned.

  “You weren’t thrilled about her being a sports reporter when you got here, as I recall. Until Clark died you didn’t give her the time of day except to criticize, but now that you’ve gotten into her pants, she’s suddenly the best sports reporter in Texas.”

  Renn’s face grew hot and a murderous rage sent his blood racing. What he and Marlee had shared wasn’t some tawdry rumpling of the sheets. The union they had found went far beyond the physical, and he resented this embittered harridan cheapening that experience and the woman he loved. The woman he loved. The admission, so long denied, jolted him.

  “Who told you that?” he demanded, but the fire in his belly had turned in another direction.

  “This is a small town, Renn. You can’t go sailing without people seeing you. You can’t have someone else’s car parked in your driveway all night without neighbors noticing.” She tossed him a satisf
ied smirk before going on.

  “You don’t like Taggart? Fine. I don’t give a damn whether you do or not, but he’s got a hell of a lot more vision about where this station can go than your girlfriend does, or than you do, for that matter. So, you see, I have a better reason for backing Taggart than you have for trying to foist an inexperienced reporter on us.”

  Her mouth curled into a thin-lipped grin. “I advise you to weigh the consequences of a personal attack on me very carefully. There are ethical prohibitions against sleeping with subordinates. If you think you have anything on me, think again. I’ve violated no rules because Taggart isn’t an employee. He’s an independent contractor. As for our age difference—” she paused and averted her eyes for a moment before again staring at him “—it would be pretty difficult to convince anyone I hold power over him. Don’t you guys usually go for younger women?”

  Renn was shaken, but he refused to capitulate.

  “I’m giving you fair warning, Faye.” He pointed a finger at her. “You continue to spread lies and distortions about Marlee and you’ll be sued for slander and defamation of character.”

  “Get out,” she said in a steady and firm voice, the executive again in charge.

  He turned toward the door, then spun around to confront her one last time. “I mean it, Faye. Back off, if you know what’s good for you.”

  Friday, May 9

  MARLEE WAS AMAZED on Thursday to receive an e-mail from Philadelphia asking her to overnight a demo tape. Apparently, the news director there was very eager to finally get the sports reporter vacancy filled. He even furnished her a billing number for the courier service. Friday afternoon, Dick Jacobs called her personally to ask if she could possibly come to Philadelphia the following day, Saturday, for an interview.

  “When will I be back?” she asked. Everything was happening so fast.

  “We’d like you to stay through Monday so you can see our normal weekday operation. You’d fly home Monday night or Tuesday morning. Or, if that isn’t possible, we can get you a flight Sunday night.”

  “I have quite a bit of comp time coming,” she said. “I’ll check with my boss about taking Monday off.”

  “Good. I’ll have my secretary set up the itinerary and e-mail you the details this afternoon. I was very impressed with your tape, Marlee. I’m looking forward to meeting you in person.”

  “No problem,” Renn said, when she asked him for Monday off. “Take longer if you need to. There’s nothing hot going on right now. Quint or Mickey can handle the sports while you’re away.”

  “Or Taggart,” she said, with a wry grin.

  “Not on your life,” he retorted humorlessly.

  Two hours later she received her round trip e-ticket reservations to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

  Dick Jacobs met her at the Philadelphia airport Saturday afternoon, drove her directly to the TV station and showed her around. They were joined afterward at a fine old restaurant downtown by his wife and two other members of the staff and their spouses.

  Sunday she received a brief tour of the City of Brotherly Love and found it fascinating. Later she observed the weekend news and sports teams produce and deliver their broadcasts. Monday she met with the station manager and owner. The facilities themselves weren’t much newer than those in Coyote Springs, but they were bigger and more elaborate. The staff was considerably larger and able to produce programs on a more sophisticated scale than KNCS.

  “What do you think of the setup?” Dick asked Monday evening, as he was driving her to the airport.

  “I like it,” she answered sincerely. “Your equipment is top of the line, and your people are fantastic, a great team.”

  “We’re a family here,” he said proudly, “and we’d like you to join us.”

  Dumbfounded, she stared over at him for several seconds. She hadn’t expected an offer this quickly.

  “As soon as I saw your tape, I knew you were the person we were looking for,” Dick continued. “After meeting you in person, I’m convinced of it. I can see why Renn recommended you so highly.”

  Her hand involuntarily tightened on the door handle. “Renn?”

  He smiled, his concentration focused on the busy road ahead. “Did I tell you we went to college together?”

  “No, you didn’t.” Renn hadn’t mentioned it, either. The news shook her. That they would know each other shouldn’t come as a surprise. For all its breadth, the broadcast community was remarkably tight-knit, especially at management levels.

  Renn had recommended her. He was sending her away.

  The words he’d spoken as he’d stood in her doorway came tumbling back: I’m sorry you’ve misjudged me. I’m sorry I failed you. I wish you the best, Marlee. I hope you find what you’re looking for. If there’s anything I can do to help you, a recommendation…anything…please let me know.

  Oh, Renn.

  “You’ll want to think it over.”

  She started. The man behind the wheel was talking to her.

  “And of course there are details that’ll have to be ironed out, such as your compensation package and buying out your existing contract.”

  There won’t be any flack from that quarter, she was tempted to assure him. Faye wanted her gone…and Renn?

  They had no future together. He was right; this wasn’t a profession that lent itself to the conventions of love and marriage and a baby carriage. She was a sports reporter. That’s all she ever wanted to be, and she was good at it. She’d learned from the best. Getting this offer so quickly, a big step up, proved it.

  “I’m interested,” she confirmed.

  Dick Jacobs pulled up in front of the terminal.

  “Good.” He reached behind the seat and grabbed his attaché case. “I had a preliminary contract drafted. Here’s a copy for you.” He withdrew a large manila envelope and handed it to her. “You can study it when you get home, have your agent and attorney look it over, and we’ll go from there. I think you’ll find the package generous. If you have any questions at all, please don’t hesitate to call me. We’d really like you to come aboard.”

  Marlee felt queasy all the way home, though the flight was smooth and she was normally a good traveler. She was sure she would have been heartsick even if she’d been walking on flat land with a breeze to her back.

  She would be leaving Coyote Springs. Saying goodbye to Audrey and the people at KNCS. Saying goodbye to Renn.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Tuesday, May 13

  WORD FROM Dick Jacobs Tuesday morning that Marlee had left Philadelphia with a contract in hand threw Renn into a tailspin.

  “She’s perfect, Renn. Pretty, intelligent, quick-witted, and she knows her stuff. The folks here fell in love with her.”

  Yes, Renn thought, she’s easy to fall in love with.

  He sat at his desk and stared through the open doorway. The sounds of the newsroom drifted in—printers, telephones, police scanners and television sets with their audios turned low. He’d spent all his adult life in this business. It was a world he’d always enjoyed. He’d come to KNCS with high hopes. The fast pace of big cities had tired him. The more relaxed routine of a small town had been very alluring.

  What he hadn’t anticipated was finding a woman who would capture his heart and make him think of home and family instead of headlines and deadlines.

  He wouldn’t be having this problem if Marlee hadn’t been here and he hadn’t become involved with her. He didn’t like Taggart, but so what? He’d worked with obnoxious narcissists before. He could have found a way to deal with this pompous ass, too. It was Marlee who’d brought a new dimension to the equation. She’d made him want a life with someone rather than a life in a business.

  He finished his call with Jacobs, hung up the phone and slouched in his chair. All in all, he’d had a good run in the television news business. He hadn’t achieved the high ambitions he’d set when he started out, hadn’t made the national scene and become a household word, but he wasn’t really
disappointed. He’d followed his muse and had no regrets. Until now. The one thing he wanted to do, the one goal that mattered—getting Marlee the sports anchor job at KNCS-TV—he’d failed to accomplish. Worse, she’d seen him for what he was, an opportunist.

  He turned to the computer at his elbow, pulled up a blank screen and stared for a minute at the cursor blinking in the upper left-hand corner. Then he began to type. He debated with himself about explaining the reasons for his sudden action, but recriminations would accomplish nothing. For personal reasons.

  He hit the Print key and retrieved two copies, signed one, folded the other and put it in his pocket.

  “What’s this?” Faye asked, when he dropped it on her desk.

  He said nothing, forcing her to read it. “Why?” she demanded angrily. “Because you didn’t get your way?”

  “Because I don’t feel good working here anymore,” he stated unemotionally.

  “So you’re leaving us in the lurch. What about two weeks’ notice?”

  “I have vacation time accrued. I’m taking it, but I’ll still be available if you really need me.” Somehow he doubted they would. “We’re in a news lull. Whatever may develop, Mickey Grimes is perfectly capable of handling. I recommend him for news director, by the way.” He paused for a second before going on. “You’ve deluded yourself, Faye, into thinking your decisions have been the best for the station, even though they only benefited you and Taggart. I hope this time—”

  “Who bought you out from under us?” she snapped.

  He laughed. She couldn’t conceive of someone quitting over principles. There was a time when he wouldn’t have, either.

  “No one,” he said.

  She shook her head, baffled by his abrupt decision, one she no doubt regarded as very foolish.

  The silence that ensued lasted only a few seconds, but it was long enough to make them both uncomfortable. She stood up and extended her hand across the desk.

  “Good luck, Renn. I wish you well.”

  He believed her. Their previous animosity had evaporated.

  She walked him to the door. “What will you do now?”