Amanda Wakes Up

by Alisyn Camerota

  Rob piped up. “I think generally stories about the tax code are a little wonky, but if we make it about class warfare, that could work.”

  I stared at him, wondering how the hell he could be so cool and collected. He really is a professional lady-killer, I thought. Remember that.

  Just then, Fatima’s and Rob’s phones buzzed simultaneously. They both glanced down.

  “And here we go,” Fatima said. “Google Alert for Amanda Gallo. A new Arthur Dove tweet. ‘@AmandaGallo falls for fake news. @VictorFluke will no longer appear on @WakeUpUSA. #successfulman.’”

  Morgan made a whistle like something falling out of the sky.

  “Fuck! I have to go deal with this,” Fatima said. “Meeting adjourned.” She turned to me, dead serious. “Don’t go home. Benji just emailed. He wants to see you.”

  Chapter 29

  Feet to the Fire

  “Oh. Em. Eff. Gee!” Melissa said as I entered Benji’s outer office. “You were amaze-balls this morning.”

  Since I’d been here last, there’d been some redecorating. Gone were the treadmills and high keyboards; now Benji’s gaggle of assistants were typing on normal keyboards atop their regular desks, while trying to maintain their balance sit-bouncing on oversized exercise balls that I suspected were ordered after Benji read somewhere of the ergonomic advantages of developing one’s core strength and spine alignment.

  “I can’t believe Fluke hung up on you on live TV,” Melissa said. “He’s officially cray cray.”

  “Totes,” I heard myself say, as though I were her college roommate.

  “Benji’s on a phone call,” she whispered. “I’ll tell him you’re here.”

  “Hey, you,” Benji called out his door, and he waved me in. His breezy casualness surprised me, and I felt better. Clearly, he wasn’t angry with me.

  I walked in to find Benji on his Bluetooth, talking and pacing the floor, tossing a stress ball back and forth in his hands. He motioned for me to sit on the sofa. His ankles were tanner than the last time I’d seen them.

  “So you’ll send me the quarter numbers and then we’ll put something out in all the trades, plus the Times and WaPo. Cool? Good. You’re the man,” he said with a grin, and I knew instinctively that whomever he was talking to replied, “No, you’re the man.” And then on cue, Benji laughed.

  “Oh-kay,” he said, hanging up but still distracted, clipping a stack of papers on his desk, then nodding at it as if mentally checking a box. “So,” he said, walking over to me and sitting down.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “You’ve had quite a morning.”

  I made my eyes wide and nodded at him. “You could say that.”

  “‘The Fluke Hang-up.’ I’m already seeing that headline everywhere. Politico, The Hill, The Wrap, TVNewser. Getting a lot of pickup.”

  There was something about the straight way he said it, his just-the-facts-ma’am delivery, that made me feel uneasy.

  “Yeah,” I said, “I wasn’t expecting him to hang up. I thought for sure he’d have some good answer. I mean, he had to know he’d be asked about it at some point.”

  “Yeah, yeah. No, I think he just wasn’t expecting it from us, which is part of what made it so great. The unpredictability of live TV.”

  “Oh, good,” I said, exhaling. “I’m glad you liked it, because I felt I had to ask him. The housekeeper story had become the elephant in the room, and he’s never had to address it head-on.”

  “Yeah, yeah. No, I get it,” Benji said. “I mean, you’re a journalist. That’s what you do. You ask the tough questions. You get the story.”

  “Exactly,” I said.

  “No, no, it was great. The only issue is that it really pissed off Fluke.”

  “You saw Dove’s tweet?”

  “No, he called.”

  “Really? Fluke himself?”

  “Yeah, no, he says he won’t come on again, unless you apologize on the air.”

  A pang of nausea hit me. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, I mean obviously you can’t do that. Issuing an apology is the last thing we should ever do. FAIR News can’t be issuing apologies for asking tough questions.”

  I nodded with relief. “Of course not! That’s my job. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Right, right. Of course not. No, I know that,” he said. “Other than you did go way off message for the FAIR News brand. I know Fatima explained to you that we couldn’t touch the other side until we had the other side.”

  “Well, we do have the other side. I mean we don’t have the woman, but we have evidence that they had some sort of relationship. I’ve seen the real estate records that he bought her a house.”

  “Documents can be forged,” Benji said. “And I think I’ve been pretty explicit about getting both sides. We needed the woman in order to do the story. We don’t just repeat rumors. But look, what’s done is done. There might even be a way to capitalize on your rift with Fluke. Your Twitter followers are going through the roof. I mean, a lot of them are your haters, of course.”

  I shrugged and looked out the window, trying to think of the right Fluke follow-up segment for tomorrow to advance the story. Maybe I could get Emilia the nanny on.

  “So I’m going to have to pull you off the show,” Benji said.

  “What?!”

  “Don’t worry, it’s not forever. Just till things settle down.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Look, we’re very close to beating CNN and Fox for the entire quarter. We’re like thirty thousand viewers shy of them in the demo. But I think in the next couple of weeks before the election we can close the gap. Do you know how huge this is for a start-up network? Our projections didn’t have us coming close to them for five years! That’s a big feather in our cap and you should feel very proud of that.”

  “So then don’t pull me! The show is doing great! Maybe it will do better now that people know we’ll hold Fluke’s feet to the fire!”

  “Well, we can’t overlook the Fluke factor. I’d like to think the success is whatever you and Rob are doing, but let’s face it, when Fluke’s on, the numbers skyrocket, and when he’s not, they dip. So look, let’s just get through the election. Then if we win the quarter, we get huge bragging rights and I can roll out the publicity blitz I’m planning across all media platforms and FAIR News will officially be on the map in a major way.”

  “Benji, you can’t do this. You cannot punish me for asking a question.”

  “Don’t think of it like that. Think of it like you’re getting a little break. Not having to wake up at three A.M. every day? Trust me, you’ll be thanking me in a few days.”

  My heart was pounding. “What if I get the woman?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what if I can get the housekeeper to talk?”

  “Well, that would be the prime-time event of the year. The October surprise to beat all others. We’d win more than the quarter. Hell, I’d blow up your current contract and quadruple your salary for that. Can you get her?”

  “I don’t know. But if I can, will you put me back on the show?”

  “Of course,” Benji said. “In the meantime, Margot’s in, starting Monday.”

  “What about Rob?”

  “Rob stays on, of course. He didn’t go rogue. He likes stardom too much to jeopardize it.”

  Chapter 30

  Terminal Break

  I staggered into my kitchen and dropped my bag, reaching out to brace myself against the counter. I narrowed my eyes and tried to focus on the silver sink faucet to see if there was one or two of them. Between Benji and Rob and Fluke, I was dizzy—so dizzy that on the subway home I’d developed a case of double vision. I was starting to see two of everything; even now the faucet was its shiny self with a fuzzy shadow faucet hovering just up and to the side.
What is happening to me?

  I thought of the story I’d done a few months ago about a transgender teenager who’d felt so trapped in her body that she became physically paralyzed and unable to walk. Only after she told her mother that she was a boy could she move again. Am I experiencing some sort of bizarre psychosomatic manifestation of my effort to see two sides? Maybe I do need to pick a side. Fuck. Dr. Phil would have a field day with this one. Or maybe I’m dehydrated. I have GOT to get in bed and sleep this off. All of it.

  I reached for the faucet, happy to feel the metal in my hand, something solid to hold on to, then as I went for a glass, I saw a piece of scrap paper lying alone in the middle of the counter.

  Amanda

  Saw the Fluke interview. I’m so proud of you. I’ll stop by after class.

  Love,

  Charlie

  I put my hand to my mouth. Charlie. Oh, my God. He hadn’t been in the bedroom, had he? I couldn’t remember what state I’d left it in. I looked at the note again, trying to read between the lines to tell if our spaceship had landed, then I rushed to the bedroom to check the scene of the crime. The sheets were knotted like ropes, as if I’d been tossing and turning all night. There on my nightstand was Heshie’s necklace and watch and earring. Oh, thank God. But wait, my double vision must be playing tricks with me. I walked closer and put my hand on the pieces to separate them. Only one earring . . . where the hell was the other earring? Tell me I didn’t lose one of the fucking earrings!

  I dropped to my knees and ducked under the bed, fishing around wildly, but pulling out only a linty sock. I stood up, shut my eyes, and fell face first into bed.

  • • •

  When I opened my eyes some time later, the nightstand next to my bed had another nightstand next to it, like a hologram. Had I missed my alarm for the show? Jesus, what day is it? I reached for the diamond watch, and squinted at its face to try to turn the four fuzzy hands back into two. Three o’clock, it said, though I didn’t know if that meant afternoon or the middle of the night. Sitting up, I could see it was light out, and then slowly, slowly the pieces came together, landing like a rotten egg in my stomach. It’s three P.M. I slept with Rob the womanizer last night. Fluke hung up on me. Benji pulled me off the show. And wait, wasn’t there one more bad thing? Oh, yeah. I lost Heshie’s earring. Hey, at least it’s only one. That’ll only cost $11,000 to replace. I fell back down onto my pillow.

  Rolling over, I saw the spot where Rob’s head had been, and before I could stop myself, I drew the pillow to my face to see if it still smelled like him. Then it all came back, the sweet smell of his neck as he pulled me toward him. His deep kisses. My hands in his hair. How was he such a good kisser? Dammit! My cell phone rang on the nightstand behind me. Unknown number.

  “Hello?” I murmured.

  “Hi,” Rob said, softer and more tentative than I’d ever heard him. “You asleep?”

  “Ah, no, not really. I was just lying here . . . thinking about you, actually.”

  “Hold that thought!” he said. “I’ll be right over.”

  “I don’t think that’s—” He’d hung up. I tried to force myself to be annoyed that he was coming over and then I tried to be angry that Benji had pulled me off the show and not Rob. But for some reason, I only felt excited.

  I lay dozing in and out of a dreamy haze until my buzzer sounded and I got out of bed.

  “Special delivery,” Rob said into the intercom. I pressed the button to unlock the downstairs door and waited for him to climb the flights, my heart quickening.

  “Hey,” he called, taking the last two stairs in one stride and heading straight for me until our bodies almost touched. He reached into his pocket. “I have something I believe is yours.”

  “What is it?”

  He pulled out the missing earring.

  “Oh, my God! Where did you find that?”

  “In my mouth,” he said.

  My jaw dropped.

  “Kidding!” he said. “I felt something sharp in my tux collar and it was your earring poking me.”

  I grabbed it from his fingers. “I was going to have to liquidate everything I owned to pay for that.”

  “I got your back, baby,” he said, wrapping his arm around me, then placing his hand on the small of my back and bringing my body to his.

  “Come in, come in,” I said, pulling away before the old lady in 4E could pop her nosy head out the door.

  “How ya feeling?” he asked, following me in.

  “Terrible,” I said. “Benji pulled me off the air.”

  “What? No! Why?”

  “Because Fluke’s threatening not to come on if I’m there.”

  “Fuck,” Rob said, setting his jaw and shaking his head. “Who’s he putting in?”

  “Margot,” I said.

  “Oh, no!” Rob said. “Listen,” he said, taking my hand, “this won’t last long. Margot sucks. Without you, Wake Up is a different show, a much worse show. Benji will see that. And Fluke will get over this. He’s not going to go dark in these last weeks of the campaign. He needs us.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “The whole thing is making me sick and dizzy. Do you know that I’ve developed double vision? I mean even now, you look blurry to me.”

  “Hmm. That’s not good. Come, you’d better lie down.” Rob put his arm around me and steered me to the bed. “Here, let me make you comfortable,” he said, fluffing my pillow.

  “Oh, you’re so helpful.”

  “Yup. I’m a giver.”

  I didn’t resist as Rob gently lay me down on the rumpled covers, then lay down next to me. He pulled my hips to his until we were an inch apart. “Let Dr. Lahr see what’s wrong.” He pressed his lips to my forehead. “Hmm . . . you feel hot. You better take off your clothes.”

  “I didn’t know you were a doctor,” I murmured.

  “Yup, I studied medicine in college,” Rob said, slowly pulling down the zipper of my sweatshirt, then tracing his finger from my lips down my neck. “Well, okay, female anatomy,” he corrected.

  “I should’ve known,” I said.

  He leaned in to kiss me. Goddammit, he was good at that. I was running my hand through his hair when he stopped and hoisted himself up on one elbow, looking down at me. “Amanda, I want you to know something. I don’t ever feel this way about someone. This is different. I want you to know that. I know you must feel it, too.”

  I did feel it, in every part of my body . . . except my head, which told me it couldn’t possibly work.

  “Listen, Rob. It all feels a little complicated—”

  “It doesn’t have to be.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, starting to work his T-shirt up to his shoulders to take it off. I wanted to feel his warm skin against my chest again, while I told him why it would never work. “Maybe we should—”

  The buzzer sounded and I froze. Rob continued to unzip me.

  “Wait,” I said.

  “Ignore it,” he said, kissing my neck.

  “Wait, what time is it?”

  “Who cares?”

  “Oh, my God! I think that’s Charlie! Get up!”

  “What? Charlie?”

  “Yes, Charlie said he was going to stop by later. Oh, my God!”

  “What the fuck, Amanda?” Rob said, sitting up.

  “Fuck!”

  “Just ignore it.”

  “I can’t! He has my keys. Shit. You gotta go!”

  “What do you mean?”

  I could hear footsteps padding up the stairs. There was no time for Rob to get out the door without running right into Charlie.

  “I don’t want him to see you. I need you to go into the bathroom. I’ll get him to leave. Just give me a minute!”

  Rob blew out an exasperated breath. “Whoa, Amanda. Why can’t he see me? Wait, are you still with
him?”

  “Just one minute, Rob, please!” I pushed Rob into the bathroom and shut the door. I could hear the key turning in the lock. The door swung open.

  “Hey, babe,” Charlie said, offering me a puppy-dog smile.

  “Hi,” I said, breathless, straightening my sweatshirt and yanking up the zipper.

  “Whatcha up to?” he said, coming in, taking off his jacket, and setting it on the chair like he always did.

  “Um . . . not much. I was actually just napping.”

  “Napping? At this hour?”

  “Yeah, I’m actually not feeling so well. I went to a gala last night, um, for Julie Andrews. I think I caught something,” I said, praying that Rob couldn’t hear that through the paper-thin walls.

  “Well, I wanted to stop by and apologize. I saw what you did with Fluke this morning. And I’m so proud of you. I knew you would take a stand. You just had to find your footing. I’m sorry if I was too harsh about all of this.” He came toward me, wrapping me in an embrace. His arms felt so familiar that I lost myself for a moment, thinking how much easier it would be to stay right here forever. As long as neither of us ever needed to use the bathroom.

  “Thanks, Charlie,” I said into his shoulder before attempting to wriggle out of his arms. “I really appreciate you saying that. And I’d love to talk more about it but I’m not feeling well. I think I need to go back to bed. Can I call you later?”

  “Sure, of course, babe. Can I get you anything?”

  “Oh, no, thanks,” I said, peering over his shoulder through my bedroom door and spotting last night’s bra still dangling from the lampshade.

  “And you know what else I was thinking?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “How about we make it a long weekend in DC when we go down to the White House Halloween Party? I know of a great little hotel on Capitol Hill and we can have a romantic weekend.”

  I’d forgotten that at one time we had planned to go to the White House together. “Yeah, sure, that sounds good,” I said, handing Charlie his coat and swinging open the door for him to leave.

  “All right, I’ll let you get some more rest. You do look a little peaked.”