by Amy Brent
“Okay, folks, thanks for coming,” Ed said, standing at the head of the table with his hands up. He gave them a minute to direct their attention to the front of the room, where I stood behind him like a timid little girl on the first day of class. I took a deep breath and stepped up beside him, forcing myself to act like the strong leader I’d been hired to be.
“This is Lucy Rhodes, our new executive producer of the weeknight newscasts,” Ed said proudly, turning to put a pudgy hand on my shoulder. “Lucy comes to us by way of Milwaukee and Chicago where she worked as the producer of their nightly newscasts for the last ten years. She worked for me when I ran things in Chicago so you know she’s top notch. She wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t.” He turned to me and pushed his bushy eyebrows up. “Lucy, they’re all yours.”
“Thanks for that warm introduction, Ed,” I said with a smile. Ed gave me a nod and stepped aside. I saw Bryant and Stephanie exchange a quick glance. Everyone else was looking at me with eyes wide, as if they were wondering what to expect. The people in the room were the heads of the various departments that worked together to produce the news: video editors, directors, camera ops, assignment editors, reporters, technicians, etc. Ed managed them directly and they managed their people, but as the executive director of the show, they also unofficially worked for me. In a perfect world, things should run smoothly. I’d been in the business long enough to know that that was rarely the case.
I clasped my hands together like a teacher on the first day of school and let my eyes go around the room. “Well, it’s nice to be here and I look forward to the great work we’re going to do together. Why don’t we start by going around the room so you can tell me your name and what you do here.”
“Bryant Hart, lead anchor,” Bryant said in his deep TV voice, interrupting my intention to start with the person sitting closest to me. He pushed himself out of the chair and stood tall adjusting his cufflinks. “And I have better things to do than attending a meet and greet.” He walked around the table and out the door. Ed looked at me and rolled his eyes.
“Stephanie Bean, co-anchor,” Stephanie said without getting up. She looked toward the door and rolled her eyes. “Don’t pay any attention to him. Meetings are actually much nicer after he’s left the room. The air is much less stifling.”
Everyone chuckled and nodded in agreement. I looked at Stephanie and smiled. We might not become the best of friends, but I had to admire the size of her balls. I held out my hands and said, “Okay, let’s continue.”
Chapter 5: Cole
I’m probably one of the few doctors in the world who has a team of managers and agents working constantly to guide their career outside of the operating room. I’ve got a three-book deal with Harper Collins, even though I’ve never written a book in my life and have no idea what to write about. According to Stan Freeman, my literary agent, they just wanted to tie up the rights to any book I might one day write, and pay me half a million bucks to do so. Sweet. Maybe someday they’ll get something for their money. Until then, bank that bitch!
I also have an entertainment lawyer who acts as my agent for the TV work I do. Ben Wolf is his name, which was an appropriate name given his ability to rip people to shreds in negotiations. He was the guy who negotiated my original deal with World News Network and was working on my contract renewal.
I’d been the Friday medical expert on World News Tonight for twelve months now and my contract was about to expire. They paid me a shit ton of money just to show up every Friday at 6:15 and talk for two minutes. I’d never done the math, but I think it came out to something like $2,000 a minute. Fuck, I didn’t even earn that much operating on a heart. Not too shabby for a country boy from Wisconsin, if I do say so myself. It was the exposure I got from doing the spots for the news that got me the other deals that were now in play. Along with the books, I got paid to do corporate speaking, I was starting a podcast (whatever the fuck that is), my private practice fees were double what they were a year ago, and if all went according to plan, this time next year I’d have my own syndicated TV show. Move over Dr. Oz. Dr. Cole Walker is coming through!
“So, what do you think?”
My thoughts were interrupted by Ben Wolf’s gruff voice coming over the speaker phone in the back of the limo that was driving me to my meeting with Ed Quigley at WNN.
“What do I think about what?” I asked.
“Jesus, are you not listening?”
“I’m listening,” I said with a smile. “But repeat it anyway.”
“Your contract with WNN comes up for renewal in two weeks,” Ben said. “I’m going to propose that they double the rate they’re paying you now and book you for longer segments. They must know that we’re talking to Kingston World about a one-hour show. We have them over a barrel and can dictate terms.”
“So why are we just doubling the rate?” I asked, glancing out the tinted window at the city that was rushing by. I gave him a bored sigh. “I mean, if I’m worth double, I must be worth quadruple, don’t you think?”
“Well, maybe…”
“Ben, don’t lose your balls now,” I said firmly. “Quadruple the rate, expand the Friday segment to three minutes, and get me a thirty-minute special every few months, my time permitting. That is until we can lock down a syndication deal with Kingston or whomever, then all bets are off.”
“You want an out-clause in case the syndication deal comes through?”
Of course,” I huffed. “I’m not going to show up there every Friday to do a segment when I have a show of my own to focus on. Include the out-clause, end of discussion.”
“And if they don’t agree?”
“Fuck ‘em,” I said with a smile. “We’ll go to Fox.”
“Okay, that’s what I’ll pitch,” he said. “Are you on your way to meet Ed and the new executive producer? I’ll wait to see how that goes before I call the head of programming with our new terms.”
“I am on my way to meet with them now.” I peered out the front window. “I’m ten minutes out. What do you know about the new executive producer?”
“Not much. Worked in Milwaukee for a few years, your old stomping ground, then produced the nightly news for a station in Chicago for the last ten years. She was Ed Quigley’s protégé right out of college. Name is… hang on… Lucinda Rhodes. She’s female, so that works in your favor.”
“Lucinda Rhodes,” I said with a smile. “Okay, Ben. I’ll keep you posted. And Ben, don’t let me down.”
“Don’t worry, Calvin. I’ve got this.”
I smiled. Ben was the only person on the planet allowed to call me Calvin. And he knew better than to ever do so in public. Calvin was a name I hadn’t used in years because it reminded me of a skinny kid from Wisconsin who had few friends and fewer prospects.
I’d left Calvin Colton Walker behind years ago.
Now I was Dr. Cole Walker.
And I was the fucking king of the world.
Chapter 6: Lucy
Ed and I were sitting in his office waiting for Dr. Cole Walker to arrive. Our meeting was set for three o’clock. It was now three-fifteen and Walker had yet to show. Ed didn’t seem too concerned or too pissed off, which again, was totally out of character for him. He busied himself with answering emails and talking to his wife on the phone about the grandkids coming to visit next weekend. I got the impression that the good doctor operated on his own schedule, no pun intended. Still, Ed was usually a pit bull when it came to keeping a tight schedule. This guy must be something if Ed was willing to just hang out and wait for him.
“Okay, when Dr. Walker gets here don’t look directly into his eyes for more than a few seconds,” Ed said as he turned from the computer to face me. He put his hands behind his head and began to rock. He had a serious frown on his face.
I frowned back. “What does that mean?”
“It means that he has a way of hypnotizing women. Damnedest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You make him sound like a vampire,” I s
aid with a smile. “Or a mad dog.”
“Take your pick,” he said with a shrug. “I’m just warning you, he has this way about him. Christ, I’m sure Stephanie must change her panties every time he’s on set. Even Bryant seems in awe of the guy. He freakin’ gushes over him. Again, the damnedest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I said with a mock frown. “Trust me. Men have very little effect on me these days. Other than to piss me off.”
“Speaking of men pissing you off, when’s the last time you heard from your asshole ex-husband?” Ed had known Randy from our days back in Chicago. He was at our wedding. He didn’t care for Randy then and certainly didn’t have much use for him now.
“I haven’t talked to Randy since I left Chicago,” I said. I felt the muscles in my cheeks tighten at the mention of his name. “There’s really nothing left to say.”
Ed was about to say something, then he glanced past me at the open doorway and smiled, which was odd because Ed never smiled. He pushed himself up from the chair and went around the desk. I turned to see who he was looking at and came eye to eye with the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen. At least the most gorgeous man that I’d ever seen in person.
The man standing in the doorway was tall, with jet black hair and baby blue eyes and teeth so perfect and white they almost didn’t look real. He had a deep tan and a Kennedy jawline. He was wearing a dark suit that probably cost more than my first car, an open-collared white shirt that showed off tufts of dark curls on his chest, and a gold Rolex that looked like it weighed twenty pounds on his wrist. When he looked at me and smiled I literally thought I was going to melt in my panties. The last time my pussy felt this hot I had accidentally sat on a black bicycle seat that had been out in the summer sun all day long.
“Hey, there he is,” Ed said happily, sticking out his hand and patting Dr. Cole Walker on the shoulder. “How are you doing, doc?”
“I’m fine, Ed, thank you,” Walker said formally. I swallowed the lump that had lodged in my throat and clasped my hands together behind me. I tried not to bounce on the balls of my feet like a love struck high school girl… high school… That’s when it hit me. Holy shit. I knew Dr. Cole Walker from another life, from another time. Holy shit...
“Lucy? Oh, my god, Lucy Walsh? Is that you?”
He let go of Ed’s hand and moved toward me with his arms outstretched and a look of wonder on his handsome face. I stood dumbfounded as he wrapped his strong arms around me and pulled me in for a hug. He squeezed me tight and grunted playfully, then pulled back with his hands on my shoulders. His eyes went around my face.
He said, “My god, Lucy, I can’t believe it’s you.”
“You two know each other?” Ed asked, his bushy eyebrows in a deep vee above his eyes. “Stupid question, obviously, you do.”
“We do know each other,” Cole said, eyes sparkling. “Or we did. We were high school sweethearts.” He gave me a big grin. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Lucy.”
I think my mouth moved for several seconds before my brain decided to take part in the conversation. I blinked away the shock and mustered a smile.
I muttered, “Calvin Walker? From Milwaukee? You’re Dr. Cole Walker?”
“Colton is my middle name,” he said, nodding. “Cole sounds so much better than Calvin, don’t you think?” He glanced over at Ed and made a mock serious face. “If you tell anyone my name is Calvin I’ll have to kill you.”
“No worries there, doc,” Ed said with a smile, his pudgy hands waving in the air. He put his fingers to his lips and pretended to turn the key. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
I was smiling, too, because I’d never seen Ed so openly enamored of anyone. But I couldn’t blame him. Gazing into Dr. Cole Walker’s eyes it was easy to see how anyone could fall in love with him, even a fat sixty-year-old heterosexual man who was normally as affectionate as a rattlesnake. It was no wonder the viewers loved him.
Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around his waist and melted into him again. He laughed as he put his arms around me and made cute little grunting noises as he rocked me from side to side. I put my head on his chest and sighed. I could only imagine what Ed was thinking. Heck, I could only imagine what Calvin—I mean—Cole was thinking, being accosted by a woman he hadn’t seen in nearly twenty years like some deranged fan.
It felt like old times, only I was hugging the famous Dr. Cole Walker and not nerdy Calvin Walker, the skinny, teenage boy who took my virginity in exchange for his.
Chapter 7: Lucy
I hated high school. My mother literally had to pry me out of bed in the morning to get me to go, I hated it so much. I was an awkward girl with unruly blonde hair and pimples and skinny legs and practically no boobs or hips (those came later, thank God).
There was nothing round about me other than my IQ, which was around 130. I was gifted, but was certainly no genius, at least when it came to being social or attracting boys. I was easily the smartest girl in the eleventh grade, which wasn’t that surprising given that most of the other girls were focusing all their time and limited brain cells on their wardrobe and makeup; and on creative ways to lose their virginity. I was the least sexual girl in all of Milwaukee. All my vagina was good for was getting stuck to my panties during sweaty gym classes.
I was probably the only girl in the eleventh grade not having sex of some kind. I remember a contest among the eleventh-grade girls as to who could have sex with the most varsity football players. Hand jobs counted as one point, blowjobs counted as two, and if you went all the way, that was three. And if you let him stick it in your ass (ouch!!), that would get you two bonus points. Points were tallied at the end of the semester and the lucky winner got the title of Biggest Slut—slash—Biggest Athletic Supporter in the school, which was on par with being crowned prom queen at my school. Needless to say, I did not participate. I barely knew what a penis was, and the thought of having one in my mouth just grossed me out. God forbid one ever try to invade my vagina or butt hole!
The school work was easy for me mainly because I gave a damn. While my peers were out cheerleading or painting posters for the big game or getting laid in the back of some football player’s car, I was locked in my room studying. Academically, I would accept nothing but the absolute best. I once argued with a teacher who had given me a 99 on an exam when I felt I deserved 100. After an hour, I wore him down and he changed my grade. I earned that 100. I deserved it. I didn’t put much thought into my looks, but I’d be damned if some old fart with thinning hair and thick glasses was going to ruin my perfect grade point for the year.
I had one friend, a girl named Wanda Couric, who was as big a nerd as me. We never went to high school dances or football games because we thought sports were too violent and high school boys too stupid. Such thought processes made for a lot of lonely Saturday nights. After a while, we even got tired of each other’s company. You can only go to a pity party so many times before even that gets old. Wanda ended up getting contacts and wearing short skirts and joined the in-crowd while I just kept slogging along with my eye toward college. High school was like a prison to me. One more year and I would be paroled. It didn’t occur to me at the time that college was going to be ten times worse.
Then, toward the end of my junior year, Calvin Walker transferred to Milwaukee High and my entire world flipped upside down. He was an Army brat whose family moved every couple of years. I vividly remembered the first time I saw him. It was a Friday after lunch, in the middle of Mrs. Higgins’ advanced calculus class. I was in my seat at the front where I always sat. The door opened and this tall, skinny boy with a shock of jet black hair hanging in his eyes and glasses with thick frames walked in. He handed Mrs. Higgins a note from the office and stared at the floor. She turned to the class to announce him, as if anyone but me even cared. Most of the kids didn’t even look up.
“Class, this is… Calvin Walker… a transfer student from… oh goodness… Berlin, Germany. Are you Ge
rman, Calvin?”
He shook his head without looking up or saying anything. She gave him a smile full of pity because she knew what a snake pit Milwaukee High could be, especially if you were a nerdy kid with no social skills, as he appeared to be. She patted his shoulder and told him to find a seat. The only seat available was the one at the very front of the row to my right. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he folded his long legs into the seat and laced his long fingers together on the desk. He sat down without looking around, almost as if he were afraid to see what was around him.
Calvin Walker was tall and lanky, with not much meat on his bones. His chin was dotted with pimples and he had a few dark hairs shadowing his upper lip. When he sensed that I was staring at him he glanced over and gave me a quick, nervous smile, as if he was glad to find someone here even more of a nerd than he was. What struck me most about him was the color his eyes behind the thick lenses. They were bright blue, like the sky on a clear summer’s day. There was something about the way he smiled at me that made me all warm and fuzzy inside. I knew at that moment that Calvin Walker and I were going to be the best of friends. Maybe even more.
I got up the nerve to approach him in the lunchroom the next day. He was sitting alone at a table by the window, picking at a piece of meatloaf with the tines of a fork as if he were trying to figure out exactly what it was made of. I usually ate alone, but that day I slid onto the round plastic seat directly across from him without asking permission and just started talking. It was greatly out of character for me, but there was something about Calvin even then that drew me to him, like a moth drawn to a flame. Granted, it was a nerdy flame, but a flame nevertheless.