“What do you mean?” she asks when I first explain what I need from her.
“Like, I need to confirm that other people know about it,” I say, looking around the room. It’s a flurry of activity—a fact-checker has come in and started to go through the story with the others. “In order for the newspaper to publish it, they need this as proof.”
“Proof?”
I wince.
“Not like that,” I say. “It’s just in case he tries to come back and say that you’re lying. Then we have proof, a leg to stand on. It protects you.”
“You mean it protects the paper,” she says. “Not me.”
I try my best to think of something useful to say.
“Remember how we talked about how this will help other people?” I say. “We don’t have to—you don’t have to do this. No one is going to make you. But remember why you wanted to do it before?”
The other end of the line is silent. Penny starts nodding at me, even though I can’t hear what’s being said on her call, and reaches for my pad to write something down.
“I don’t know,” Savannah says. Her voice is smaller than before. “I didn’t tell my friends. I told my boss at the office and she shut me down. I told my mom. I told Alice. And I told you. That’s literally it.”
“You don’t remember the person who walked in on you?” I ask. “When it was happening?”
“No,” she snaps. “I just told you. Look, I have to go.”
I bite my lip, tapping my pen against the table. Technically, Alice counts as someone who can corroborate since she knew about it before I did my article, but she’s a conflict of interest because we’re related. That means I have to try my best to get Savannah’s old boss to talk to me. But if I call her, she’ll probably run and tell Lennox.
Then again, he’s gonna have to find out at some point.
“Okay,” I say. “But one more thing: Do you remember the name of your manager?”
I jot down the woman’s name—Anne Mullers—and start Googling it on my phone. This is the most confident I’ve ever felt. Well, I guess it isn’t exactly accurate to say that I feel confident. But I’m not worried about flubbing on the phone or saying the wrong thing. I’m not worried about what this woman will think of me. All I’m thinking about is finishing the story.
Maybe it’s unprofessional to call Anne Mullers at a personal number I found on Whitepages, but I know it’ll be the fastest option. Lennox knows I’m doing the story, so if a stranger calls his office looking for Anne Mullers, they might give me the runaround, especially if she isn’t working today. I know she lives in New Jersey, and this phone is probably a landline. The phone rings once, twice. I close my eyes. She has to be there. If she isn’t there, I’m not sure what we’ll do. We might have to take Savannah out of the story. Then there won’t be any women of color at all. We can’t just focus on the rich white actresses and ignore a Latinx assistant. It would be erasing part of the story. It wouldn’t be the full truth.
I start to think about Marius, the way he looked when he told me what happened to him, but then someone picks up.
“Hello?”
I almost shoot straight up in my chair. All of the Times staffers turn to look at me. The papers are spread out around them, like they’re teachers getting ready to grade final essays, and I can already see the transcripts marked with the red pen resting in Kim’s hand. I can’t bring myself to smile, so I just nod at them.
“Hi,” I say, leaning forward. “This is Josie Wright. I’m a journalist reporting on a story for the Times. I wanted to reach out to corroborate something with you. Did you work with someone named Savannah Rodriguez about two years ago at Lennox Productions?”
She is quiet for a second. Penny, now done with her phone call, glances up at me.
“Why are you asking?” Anne says. “That was a long time ago. I don’t know if I remember.”
I resist the urge to groan. This whole back-and-forth, trying to get information out of people, it’s not something I can do right now. Not without snapping at this woman and possibly tearing her head off. I guess maybe it isn’t fair for me to get angry about what he did and reflect it onto her, but it’s not like she tried to help Savannah at all.
“I need to confirm an allegation made against Mr. Lennox,” I say. I don’t know if that’s something I can say or not, but none of the adults look up, so I figure it’s fair game. “Is it true that Ms. Rodriguez came to you two years ago and told you about an incident that happened between her and Mr. Lennox?”
“I’m not able to say anything about that,” she says, all bluster. “And Ms. Rodriguez isn’t, either.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’d be breaking her agreement,” she says. “We both would be.”
“Like an NDA?”
“Yes,” she repeats. “Like an NDA.”
I frown. Savannah didn’t say anything about an NDA.
“Okay,” I say. “Just another question—does every employee sign an NDA?”
“Yes.”
Shit. I guess that makes sense. But it would’ve been way more helpful if Savannah was the only one who had to sign one. That way—
“But not everyone signs more than one,” Anne says. “I would ask Ms. Rodriguez if she still has her copy of the second agreement she signed.”
Second agreement?
“What do you mean?” I ask, already jotting notes down on a pad. “Why did she have more than one agreement?”
“I can’t tell you any more,” she says. “I really can’t. Good luck.”
Then the line is dead.
Kim is staring right at me.
“Agreement?” she repeats. “Does the source have a copy?”
“I don’t know,” I say, already typing out a text to Savannah, asking if we can talk. “I’m going to figure it out, though.”
Just as I’m holding the phone to my ear, waiting for Savannah to pick up, the door swings open. In walks Roy Lennox.
@JosieTheJournalist: remember when i said men are horrible? yeah, i stand by that
It takes all my power not to let out a startled scream. I shouldn’t be scared of Lennox. He’s a horrible person, but he’s a coward.
Still.
As he walks toward us, my eyes grow wider and wider until I feel like they’ll freeze that way. I can’t stop staring at the dark scruff on his chin, at his bulldog face. He almost gets right up to me before Tom steps between us. Several security guards rush through the doorway, along with a white woman with a briefcase who looks terribly tired.
“Roy,” she says. “We talked about this.”
My phone is still ringing in my hand. I hear Savannah’s voice, but I can’t bring myself to even cancel the call. Next to me, Penny is shaking. I don’t know what to do to make her feel better. I grab her hand, gripping it hard, but I’m not sure if it’s more for me or for her.
“Robin.” Stan clears his throat, crossing his legs. “Roy. So nice to see you both. I would’ve expected a word of warning before you came barging into this office.”
Robin opens her mouth to say something, but Roy gets there before she can. “Maybe you could’ve given me more of a warning,” he snaps.
I can’t stop staring at him. He’s a small man, only a few inches taller than I am, with a big stomach like my dad’s. Most of his hair is gone except for a few gray wisps. His eyes are ringed in red, and they’re dark and beady, pinning me to my chair.
Roy is still talking. “I have to hear about this story from around town? About these lies you’re spreading about me?”
Tom doesn’t even acknowledge him. He just sits with his notepad and leans back in his seat like we’re having a friendly get-together. Stan is the one who leans forward. Kim glances at Penny and me like she’s trying to communicate something, but I
don’t want to catch more of Roy’s attention than I already have.
“Roy,” Stan says. “I sent a letter to your office. I called Robin. We’ve been in communication. Let’s stop with the theatrics, shall we?”
I glance at Kim, then at Penny. I know they’ve been in contact about the story, but I didn’t realize enough time had passed for the paper’s lawyer to reach out to Lennox. I wish the Times didn’t have to reach out to him at all. If they didn’t, though, he could probably sue the newspaper. He could probably call the reporting one-sided and inaccurate. Even though I’m sure he’s probably going to do that anyway.
“They aren’t theatrics,” Roy says. “The Times is trying to ruin my life.”
Robin places a hand on his arm, like she’s used to calming him down. Like he’s not the most terrifying person in the room right now.
“What Roy is saying,” she slides in, “is that we’ve been taken by surprise by many of the rumors going around about this story. Mr. Lennox has an excellent reputation in his field. It simply isn’t ethical to publish a story based on misunderstandings from an unreliable source.”
“As you know, the Times doesn’t report lies,” Kim says. She isn’t smiling but looks like Lennox amuses her. “We only report the truth.”
“Perhaps they’re the truth to someone,” Robin says. “To a bitter employee, perhaps, or an actress who didn’t get her way. Maybe they’re stories based on misunderstandings. Roy has a very specific way of working that can often be—”
“No one has any problems with me on set,” Roy interrupts. “Who have you been talking to? Whoever it is, they’ve got it all wrong.”
“We can’t give out our sources,” Kim says. I envy how calm she is.
“But you should make us aware of the allegations being made against my client,” Robin replies evenly. “We’re here today because we heard about this story and were concerned because—”
“It’s a witch hunt,” Roy cuts in. “I obviously haven’t done anything wrong, not like what I’ve been hearing. You know, I used to have a real respect for the Times—got my first subscription when I was a young boy—but the state of journalism is in the gutter if you have little girls printing rumors about me on your pages instead of the actual truth.”
It takes a second for me to realize that he’s talking about me. I should stand up for myself. I should tell him that I’ve spoken to his accusers and I believe them. Every last word. But when I look at him, all I can think about is how I felt when Ryan King chased me into the bathroom.
I’ve never felt more like a little girl than I do right now.
“These young ladies have written a formidable story that we are eager to put our support behind,” Tom says, finally stepping in. “And you know that we will put the full support of our fact-checking team behind the story to make sure everything is accurate.”
“I—” Robin starts.
“Who spoke to you?” Roy says. “Who did you get on the record?”
“How about this?” Stan says, putting on a very lawyerly voice. “We’ll give you twenty-four hours to respond to all allegations as soon as the story is finished.”
“Not enough,” Robin fires back. “A week.”
Stan and Tom glance at each other. Kim cocks her head to the side, lips pressed tightly together, no longer seeming amused at all.
“I’m afraid twenty-four hours is the best we can do,” Stan says after the silent conversation. “We can assure you that the story will be made available to you at the end of the day. The twenty-four hours will start immediately after that.”
I glance up at the clock. It’s five right now. How long will it take to finish the story? I thought we’d only be here for an hour. Looking back now, I should’ve known better.
“Fine,” Robin says. She tugs on Roy’s arm. “Let’s go.”
Roy lingers, noticing Penny on his way out the door, as if she’s been invisible until now. She shrinks back in her seat.
“Penny,” he says. “Penny Livingstone. I—”
I jerk to my feet, startling myself. My phone crashes to the floor, but I ignore it, stepping between Roy and Penny and drawing myself up to my full height so that Roy and I are face to face.
“Like she said.” I clear my throat. “You should go.”
Lennox’s eyes lock on me. I might not be able to make my voice as loud as I want it to be, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let him say anything that hurts her even more.
“That’s enough,” Kim says. She’s standing, too. “We need time to finish the story.”
“My client—”
“I can speak to you and your client outside,” Stan says, slowly gathering his things. “In the conference room.”
“Penny,” Roy says, turning to her. “I treated you so well.”
I fold my arms and step to the side to block Roy’s view of Penny. He turns his glare back on me. I force myself to meet it.
“Come along, Mr. Lennox,” Stan says, leading them out the door. “Let me show you to the conference room.”
None of us move until the door closes behind them. When I finally glance over at Penny, she’s crying silently. It makes me feel like shit—even shittier than I felt to begin with. My phone is still on the floor, but I don’t bend to pick it up. Kim and Tom share a long glance. I sit down next to Penny but don’t touch her. She doesn’t acknowledge me.
“I promise, he just seems intimidating right now because he’s used to getting his way,” Kim says. “He’s acting like that because he’s scared. That means we’re on the right path.”
I want to believe her. I want to call Savannah and ask her about the agreement she signed. But I feel like all the energy has been sucked out of me.
“Now that we know what we’re up against, we need Tallulah on the record. The more interviews we have, the stronger we’ll be,” Kim says, jotting on a notepad. “And we need a copy of that agreement.”
The only reason why Tallulah would speak to me was because she was off the record—that means nothing from her interview can be used for publication. I bite my lip to keep it from wobbling. How will I get her to change her mind?
I glance at Penny. She doesn’t even move to wipe her tears. She just holds her arms around her center like she’s going to fall apart. Kim walks to the desk, grabs a box of tissues, and hands it to Penny. After a second or two, Penny takes one.
“Let’s get you something to drink,” Kim says. “Yeah?”
Penny nods, rising to her feet. She and Kim walk out the door. That leaves me and Tom.
“Well, then,” he says. “Let’s get back to work.”
I push my tears down into my chest and pick up my phone.
@JosieTheJournalist: remember when i said men are horrible? yeah, i stand by that
“No. I told you before and I’m telling you again now: everything I said is off the record.”
I resist the urge to cry into the phone. I seriously think I might. We’ve been in this office all afternoon and well into the night, and I already missed my flight home. I had to meet the actual Roy Lennox. Penny looks like she’s going to fall apart at any moment. I feel that way, too, but I’m holding it in.
“I totally understand that,” I say, tapping my fingers against the table. “But the story is moving forward really fast, and we’re trying to make sure that everything can be corroborated—”
“Not my story,” Tallulah says. “I already told you that. If you print anything I said, I’ll sue the hell out of every single one of you.”
I take a deep, trembling breath. “Please,” I say. “We really need this.”
“I already told you,” she says. “I can’t.”
And then she hangs up. Actually hangs up. I hold the phone against my ear for a moment longer, maybe out of exhaustion. My eyes are burning and my throat throbs in th
e way it does right before I’m about to start bawling.
“We’re screwed,” Penny says next to me. “Completely screwed.”
Honestly? I think she’s right.
* * *
I groan as I fall out of the cab, yanking my bag strap over my shoulder, Penny following behind me. Alice is waiting for us in the hotel lobby with our suitcases. She looks between Penny and me with serious eyes.
“How’d it go?”
My lower lip starts to tremble. Penny’s eyes begin to flood. With a swift nod, Alice grabs our hands, leading us to the hotel restaurant. I’m halfway through my coffee when she finally starts to speak.
“So Monique said it’s okay if we stay with her for a little bit,” Alice says. “Mom and Dad are probably going to kick our asses, but I told them this was extremely important. Maybe they’ll have mercy when we get back home and not kill us.”
The hotel restaurant is pretty much empty except for us and a few businessmen at the bar. I expected Penny to still be weepy and sad, but she just looks sort of blank.
“Yeah,” I say, rubbing a hand over my face. “We have to figure out tickets back.”
I don’t want to think about my parents. It was such a big deal for them to let us come on this trip. Missing our flight back home definitely wasn’t part of the agreement.
“I can probably do that,” Alice says. “Do you know when the story will be published?”
Penny and I share a glance. Before we left the Times office, Kim told us she’d contact us about story details, like when it will be published. But we don’t really know.
“No,” Penny says, staring down at the table. “But it doesn’t matter, since we’re doomed, anyway.”
This whole time, Penny has been the one leading the show. She’s the one who asked me to help her. She’s the one who came up with this idea. If she doesn’t believe in the story anymore, I don’t know who I can expect to have faith in this entire thing.
Off the Record Page 24