News Blues (24 page)

“Why be so surprised? You’re a talented producer with a great sense of story. I think you’d be great for the job.”

I stared at him, confused as all hell. First, he rebukes me for producing a story that implicates News 9’s biggest advertiser
as a drug-dealing criminal. Then he wants to promote me? It didn’t make sense.

Unless . . . Unless he was trying to buy me off. Was he that scared I’d go run the story somehow? Or go around telling all
my coworkers that he’d axed it because he was afraid of losing a sponsor? I felt a little sick to my stomach.

“I’m honored that you thought of me, sir. But—”

“Great. Then it’s settled. You start tomorrow. Laura will show you the ropes before she leaves.”

This was happening too fast. I couldn’t process it all. Was it a genuine opportunity or a bribe to keep my mouth shut?

“Oh, and here’s what we’ll be raising your salary to.” Richard scribbled a number down on a sticky note and slid it across
his desk.

I stared down at it, thinking at first my dyslexia must be playing up and I was seeing the numbers in the wrong order. But
no, after a few blinks to focus, they remained, clear as day. They wanted to pay me
that
? I mean it wasn’t a PR salary by any means, but it was nearly double what I’d been making as a regular producer. I’d never
have to worry about making the rent. And I could buy good bottles of wine instead of that dreadful blush in a box I’d been
stocking in my fridge.

Not to mention it was a huge career move. I’d get a lot of added responsibility and I’d have a staff. And even better, I’d
get to assign stories to the producers that had journalistic integrity. I could even do away with the
Household Products That Kill
series. Sure, I’d lose this investigation, but I could assign ten others, equally as important that didn’t happen to involve
advertisers. For the first time, I, Maddy Madison, could make a difference.

Maybe I should take it.

Of course, that would mean giving up my
Newsline
dream. Going into management was another career track altogether. But, hey—maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing. After all, who
wanted to move to NYC or LA to slave away at some entry-level position at the national news magazine show? I had family here.
Friends. My wonderful boyfriend Jamie. This was my life.

I’d probably hate it at
Newsline
anyway, I justified. I’d have to leave everyone behind and rent some stuffy, rodent-infested studio in Queens. Or New Jersey,
and everyone would always ask what exit I lived off of.

“I’ll take it, ” I declared. “Thanks. It’s really an honor.”

“You deserve it.” Richard held out his hand, a big smile on his face. I shook it, pushing the nagging guilt of selling out
deep inside. “Welcome aboard.”

Back in Cubicle Land, I found Jamie sitting at my desk. I leaned down and gave him a warm hug. “You’ll never guess! I’m going
to be executive producer.”

“Really? Great, ” he replied in an automatic voice. Almost as if he hadn’t heard me.

I narrowed my eyes, studying him closely. He looked bad. Pale-faced, hands trembling bad. Something was definitely up. “You
okay, Jamie?”

“We need to talk.”

Oh, God, I hated those words. What now? This was turning into a roller coaster of a day.

“Oh . . . okay.” I could feel my pulse kick up a few notches as my good mood vanished into the shadows.

“Not here, though. What time are you leaving?”

I glanced at my watch. “Um, in like a half hour.”

“Fine. I’ll meet you at your apartment.” He rose and turned to leave.

I grabbed his arm. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

He attempted a smile and failed miserably. Whatever it was, it had to be bad. Really, really bad. “I’ll be by around six thirty.”

“S-sure.” I reluctantly let go of his arm. What was going on? My stomach knotted in apprehension. After he walked away I realized
I hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell him they’d axed our drug tunnel piece.

“So, how’d Richard like the story?” Jodi asked, bounding into my cubicle a moment later. “Did he fall over backward at how
awesome it was? I bet he did, right?”

“Um, not exactly.” I briefed her on how it went down. “And then he offered me a promotion, if you can believe it. Evidently
Laura’s leaving to go sell out as a publicist and they need a new executive producer.”

Jodi shook her head in amazement. “I hope you told him where he could shove that promotion, ” she said with an angry voice.
“I mean, really. What a slimeball.”

“Well . . .”

“But . . . you didn’t.” Jodi stared at me with a horrified expression on her face. “You didn’t actually agree to . . . ?”

I hung my head, unable to look her in the eye.

“Oh, Maddy! How could you? It’s so obviously a bribe.”

“Yeah, but—”

“First he tells you to suppress the truth about News Nine’s biggest advertiser and then offers you a huge promotion completely
out of the blue?”

I picked at a hangnail. “Maybe it’s a coincidence.”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“Well, it could be, ” I said, feeling more than a bit defensive. Mainly because I knew she was completely right.

“So, what, you’re going to just throw away the best story you’ve ever produced and become one of them? Become management?
Become the person who axes all the stories with journalistic integrity?” Jodi frowned. “I expected more from you. I thought
you were better than that.”

I looked up, furious at her condemnation. “You don’t understand, ” I retorted. “It’s a great job. And it’s a ton of money.”

“What about
Newsline
? You’re not going to be producing stories as an executive producer. How are you going to finish your
Newsline
résumé videotape?”

“Look, Jodi, let’s be realistic. We both know
Newsline
was a total pipe dream. It doesn’t matter how much crap I produced for News Nine. I’d never get there. My lot in life is here.
In San Diego. I’m a local news kind of girl. And it’s high time I started living in the present and stopped striving for some
glamorous dream job I’ll never get.” I held up the slip of paper where Richard had scribbled my new pay. “Look. It’s a good
salary. I can start saving for a house. Get married. Become a mom. Live the good life.”

Jodi rose from her seat. “You disappoint me, Maddy. I never thought you’d be the one who settled.”

Anger rocked through me. “I’m not settling.”

“You are and you know it. But whatever. You’ve obviously made up your mind. Congratulations on your new job. I hope it makes
you very, very happy.” And without another word, Jodi stormed off.

I glared at her retreating figure. How dare she be so harsh? She should be happy for me. She was probably jealous. Maybe she
wished Richard promoted her instead of me. Maybe she didn’t like the idea that I’d be her boss from now on.

Or maybe she’s telling you something you need to hear
, a nagging voice at the back of my head pestered.

Was
I selling out? Sacrificing my journalistic integrity for a cushy position I didn’t even really want? But at the same time,
what choice did I have? Me refusing the new job wasn’t going to suddenly convince Richard to air the drug tunnel story. And
I couldn’t exactly sneak it on. Sure, I could mislabel the videotape with another story’s name to trick them into airing it.
But it’d probably play for exactly three seconds before Richard realized what it was and called the control room to pull the
plug. So, really, taking the executive producer job didn’t make a lick of difference in the short term and in the long term
I could possibly make a difference around here. It was win-win.

So, why did I still feel so conflicted?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

FROM:
“Laura Smith”

TO:
“Madeline Madison”

SUBJECT:
Now that you’re me . . .

Hi Maddy,

Congratulations on getting promoted to executive producer. I’m sure you’ll do great. And now that you’re me, I wanted to let
you in all on this job’s perks! As executive producer, you have power over a company’s public relations and marketing staff.
And if you use this power for good, you can walk away with a ton of free stuff.

For example, if you want to go to an amusement park, concert, or sporting event, all you have to do is call the public relations
rep and ask them for tickets. They’ll give them to you—free! Sure, you may have to promise to do a segment on them at some
point—something that gives them some free advertising. I once got a whole ski weekend comp’ed just by promising to feature
them in an upcoming News 9 report. (Oh, crap, that reminds me—can you assign someone to do a Southern California’s Best Ski
Resort story? Make sure White Mountain wins first place.)

You can also get a ton of great stuff in the mail. If you like a new product, simply do a story on it and they’ll send you
one free. (Even expensive stuff!) Sometimes they’ll only send it as a loan, but I’ve found that if you keep it, they eventually
give up calling to get it back. Also, you’re already signed up to get every new DVD, music CD, and book that comes out. Once
in a while, you might want to share the wealth (especially if the CD is rap or something you don’t want). Leave your leftovers
on the freebie table and your staff will think it’s Christmas! Or there’s always eBay if you’re short a few bucks. Some of
those press-only promo items really rack up the bids.

Okay, that’s all for now. I’ll write again later to fill you in on how to meet movie stars, get your speeding tickets fixed,
and solve personal problems with places like banks, etc., all by saying you work at News 9. Also, please consider doing a
story about my new client’s line of home facial products. I promise we’ll hook you up with tons of free samples so you’ll
be able to hide all those stress wrinkles you’ll get from taking the new job. LOL.

Laura

I arrived at my apartment and kicked off my sandals. No sooner had I poured myself a glass of Callaway Chardonnay then the
doorbell rang.

Jamie.

I invited him in and handed him a glass of the wine. He looked as if he could use it. Actually, he looked as if he could use
a straight up shot of Jack. He walked over and sat down on the couch. He looked so serious. Dazed. Kind of devastated, even,
with his distracted eyes not meeting mine, and his rumpled shirt only half tucked into his trousers. What the heck was wrong
with him?

I sat down beside him, placing a hand on his knee. He flinched a little at the touch, but didn’t move his leg.

“What’s wrong, Jamie?” I asked, seriously concerned at this point. “You can talk to me.”

He took a long sip of wine before beginning. Practically drained the glass. This was not looking good.

“Before I begin, I want you to know that I care about you deeply, ” he said, setting down his glass and placing a hand over
mine. “And these last few weeks have been some of the best in my life.”

I gave him a small smile—the best I could manage in my freaked-out state. I took a deep breath and tried to ready myself for
whatever his next words would bring.

He scrubbed his face with his free hand. “God, this is so hard, ” he mumbled. “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

“Maybe the Band-Aid method would be best, ” I said. “Like pulling it off all at once instead of prolonging the torture.”

“Okay, then.” He swallowed hard. “Here goes. Jen’s pregnant.”

Oh.

My.

God.

After getting over the initial slam of horror, my stomach caught up and I wanted to be physically ill. This could not be happening.
It could not be happening. Every possible scenario I had played in my head as to what his bad news could have been was not
nearly as horrible as what reality had chosen to throw in my direction. I felt like I was on some bad episode of Jerry Springer.

My brain threw questions, fast and furious, but my mouth didn’t know where to begin.

“Wh-when did you find out?” I finally managed. As if that question even mattered. Who cared
when
he’d found out? The point was, he had.

“She wrote me an e-mail a couple days ago, asking me to come to LA. Said she had some news.” Jamie stared at the floor, kicking
at the rug with the toe of his sneaker. “I made the trip yesterday. She told me when I got there.”

“Is she . . . sure?”

He nodded. “After she did the home test, she went to the doctors to confirm it.”

“And it’s definitely . . . yours?”

He swallowed hard. “The day I broke up with her. I was really nervous and stressed about the whole thing. So I suggested we
have a few drinks. Figured it would calm my nerves. Then we ended up having a few more. I soon realized I was too drunk to
have such an important conversation, and decided to wait until morning. Problem was, she wanted to have sex. And I didn’t
know how to say no without getting into the discussion.”

“Oh that’s nice. Really, really nice, ” I retorted. Visions of Jamie—my Jamie—naked and writhing in Jennifer’s arms invaded
my mind. I wanted to puke.

He squeezed his hand into a fist. “Trust me, Maddy, it wasn’t like I enjoyed it. All I could think of the whole time was you
and how you’d be hurt if you knew what I was doing.”

“How noble of you to think of me while fucking another woman.”

“Look, I’m not proud of what I did. But it wasn’t like you and I were a couple then, you know?”

I knew he had a point, but that didn’t make any of this any easier. He’d had sex with her. And now she was pregnant with his
child. The whole relationship house of cards I’d built was toppling before my eyes and I didn’t know what to say or do. Tears
welled up in my eyes and I choked back my sobs. I felt so dirty for some reason. So violated.

“Didn’t you guys use . . . protection? Were you that stupid?” My voice cracked as I hurled my accusations. I had to lash out.
I couldn’t keep the anger inside.

“She’s been on the pill forever, ” he said wearily. “Maybe she forgot to take it that day? I don’t know. She doesn’t either.”

Nor did it matter, I realized. The fact remained: Jamie was going to be a dad. And not to my imaginary future babies. There
was a real baby now—one he’d created with another woman. A baby that in nine months was going to arrive screaming out of a
birth canal, demanding a father. Everything in Jamie’s life from that moment on was going to change.

“Maddy, I’m sorry. I know this is a lot to take in. I had no idea, believe me.” His voice sounded sad, pleading. I wanted
to beat him senseless. And I wanted him to pull me into his arms and tell me everything would be okay.

But that would be a lie.

“Is she going to keep it?” I asked.

“Yes, ” he said in a low voice. “She’s really excited about the baby, actually.”

Of course she was.

“Maddy, I know this is weird and awkward, but at the same time, you need to know, this doesn’t change things between you and
I.”

I stared at him. Was he serious? “But it does, Jamie. It changes everything.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

“Look, are you going to want to be involved in the kid’s life?”

“Well, yeah. I mean—”

“Go to ultrasounds, birthday parties, graduations? Have visitation on weekends? Are you going to move back to LA to be closer
to it?” I couldn’t manage to think of this monster in Jen’s belly as a him or her just yet.

He sighed. “I don’t know yet. I just found out. I haven’t made any decisions.”

But he would have to, I realized. And he’d be making them soon. His priorities. His life. Everything would change. And I wasn’t
ready. This relationship was too new. I couldn’t move to LA for him—I’d just gotten promoted at News 9. And I wasn’t going
to suffer through a long-distance relationship only to find out he’d decided in the end it would be best for the child if
he went back with its mother.

There was no other decision to make. This relationship had to be nipped in the bud. I didn’t want it to be. I loved Jamie
so much. Even as I sat here, furious with him, I wanted to cradle him in my arms and tell him everything was okay. Yet reality
had reared its ugly head and I couldn’t turn my back on it. I wasn’t going to be one of those girls who got walked all over
by their boyfriends. Jamie had made his bed. I was no longer interested in lying in it.

“It’s over, Jamie, ” I said, my heart breaking as I spoke. My spacious living room suddenly felt too small. Cramped. Stifling.
“It has to be.”

He looked at me with his beautiful eyes, pleading for me to change my mind. “No, Maddy, ” he cried. “Don’t do this. Please.
I love you.”

I love you.
The words that once would have sent me spiraling into a delighted haze now only served to make me sick.

“Guess you should have thought of that before you had sex with the ex, ” I retorted.

Jamie scowled. “That’s not fair and you know it. You’re being a baby.”

“And you’re having one.” I shot back. “Look, Jamie, let’s just cut our losses and move on. This relationship has been a train
wreck since it started. It was always doomed to fail.” I couldn’t believe how in control my voice sounded, when my insides
were breaking apart, piece by piece.

“But—”

“Don’t you see?” I interrupted. “You were meant to be with Jen. I stole you away. Now the universe is telling you to go back.
It’s not too late—you can have a nice little family together. You can have your wedding, be happy.You wanted children. Now
you’ve got your wish.”

“I wanted your children. Not hers.”

“Again, something you should have thought of before you orgasmed, ” I said bitterly. “Now could I please ask you to leave?
I need to do some thinking.”
And crying,
I added silently.
A lot of crying
.

“No. I won’t leave until you’ve let me have my say, ” he said, grabbing my arm as I tried to rise from my seat. I shook his
hand away.

“Jamie, please. Just go, ” I begged with my last shred of dignity. I didn’t know how long I’d be able to hold out before I
melted into a sloppy, tear-stained puddle on the floor.

“No.”

Suddenly, the phone rang. Grateful for the distraction I grabbed the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Maddy?” It was my dad, though I barely recognized his voice, he sounded upset.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. Oh man, what now? I was already at my breaking point. I could so not deal with more bad news.

“It’s Lulu. She escaped from the rehab.”

I white-knuckled the receiver, my heart slamming against my rib cage. All thoughts of my love life evaporated instantly as
worry for my sister flooded my brain, my heart. “Do they know where she is?”

“Yes.”

“Thank God.” I exhaled in relief. I had had visions of search parties, combing the streets of San Diego, calling her name.
“Where?”

I could hear my father’s hard swallow on the other end of the phone line. “She’s in the emergency room.”

“What?” I sank back down to the couch, my legs no longer able to withstand my weight. I felt Jamie staring at me, his eyes
concerned and questioning, but I couldn’t look in his direction.

“The nurse who called said someone dropped her on the hospital’s front sidewalk and took off. They think she overdosed.” My
father’s voice broke on the other end.

“Over—?” I couldn’t even say the word. “Is she . . . going to be okay?” Did I really want to hear his answer?

Silence, and then, “They’re not sure yet.”

Lulu. Oh, my baby sister! What have you done to yourself?

“Okay, ” I said, using my last reserves of talking strength. “Are you at the hospital? I’ll be right down.”

“What’s wrong?” Jamie asked as I hung up the phone. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“No.” It was all I could manage without breaking. I had one shred of control left, and I wasn’t about to lose it in front
of him. I knew he’d be concerned and comforting and I’d find strength in his arms, but they were no longer my arms to find
strength in. The sooner I accepted that and moved on, the better.

I stood up, my legs wobbly. I needed to get to the hospital, though how I’d actually manage to drive in my current state of
shock, I wasn’t sure. “I-I have to go somewhere, ” I told him. “Please. I need you to leave.”

“No.”

I stared at him. “What do you mean, no?”

“What part of the word didn’t you understand?” He rose from the couch. “Something’s obviously happened. And I’m not going
to just take off and leave you.”

He held out his arms, tempting me to collapse in his embrace. And I wanted to. Oh, how I wanted to. But I couldn’t. I had
to stay strong.

“Jamie, none of this is your concern. It’s a family thing I have to take care of. I’m asking you to leave. Now.”

“And I’m saying no.” He reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me to him. I had no more will to resist. I buried my head
in his chest and started sobbing.

“Tell me what happened, ” he murmured while stroking my hair.

“Lulu’s in the emergency room, ” I sobbed. “She ODed and they think she could die.”

“Oh, Maddy, I’m so sorry.” Jamie pulled me tighter, nearly crushing me against him. He felt so good. So warm. Safe. I wanted
this to be my reality. To have a rock like him to cling to. But I couldn’t allow myself to get used to this. He belonged to
Jen. To their unborn child. Things would never be the same between us and the sooner I accepted that, the better.

I abruptly forced myself away from his embrace. “I have to get to the hospital. My family’s there.”

“I’ll take you.”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Maddy, look at you. You’re in no shape to drive.”

As much as I hated to admit it, I knew he was right. “Okay. Fine. You can drive me to the front door. But you’re not coming
in. I need to be with my family right now.”