CHAPTER 15
THE CONFERENCE ROOM WAS FULL BY NINE O’CLOCK ON MONDAY morning.
Steam spiraled from ceramic mugs resting in front of each of the twenty-two people seated around the table, filling the air with the smell of hazelnut.
Morning sunlight spilled through the forty-fourth-floor windows and shone off the mahogany.
Graham Cromwell brought the meeting to order.
He talked about the coming weeks of programming.
“Luke has two specials planned for this summer. The first will begin next month, covering the history of the White House. We’ve confirmed the president’s participation with one prerecorded interview, as well as a personal walk-through of the Oval Office.
This, obviously, is a huge honor and speaks to Luke’s influence. ”
“It’s not just the current president, Graham.
Over the weekend, my producer confirmed that the previous two presidents have also agreed to participate in the special.
We’ll interview them at their private residences.
I’m off to Texas later in the week to conduct the first interview.
” Luke smiled. “I mean, why stop at one if they’re all on board? ”
“Really?” Graham said. “How did you pull that off?”
“It’s amazing,” Luke said as he glanced quickly at Sidney. “I hired a producer that actually gets his calls returned. . . .”
Graham nodded. There was little doubt the network had a solid star in Luke Barrington.
He had been at the top of the prime-time ratings for more than a decade, and this summer’s Fourth of July special with exclusive access to the White House was sure to keep him there.
As pompous and demanding as Luke could be to his staff and producers, Graham knew he was hands-on with this White House project.
Graham had seen the content summary of the proposed special.
Along with the White House tour—staged currently to show viewers the president’s first-person journey and morning routine, from waking in the East Wing to sitting in the Oval Office—Luke had a fascinating history of the White House planned, showcasing secret tunnels, safe rooms, and vaults.
It was sure to draw a large audience. And now, with interviews confirmed with two former presidents, it was sure to be a ratings giant.
“Impressive. We’re all looking forward to it,” Graham said. “Marketing and promotion have already started and will pick up this month. The four-episode special, Inside the White House, is due to premiere just ahead of the Fourth of July. Anything else to add?”
Luke smiled and looked around the conference table. “Tune in.”
“Okay,” Graham said. “Onto The Girl of Sugar Beach. Episode one aired this past Friday and drew one-point-two million viewers. Excellent start, Sidney. America is still interested in Grace Sebold.”
“Are we classifying this as an excellent start?” the Bear asked. “My evening news program pulls in eight million viewers each night, and she didn’t even retain a quarter of my audience. I was her lead-in because we thought my viewers would make the jump.”
“We knew there would be falloff,” Graham said. “The demographics of the two programs don’t match perfectly, so we may rethink the timing.”
“Old people watch your show,” Sidney said. “We’re working to generate a larger audience in the eighteen-to–forty-four demographic.”
“I’d suggest you work harder then,” Luke said. He looked back to Graham. “And she’s not finished with the investigation . . . so will the million viewers she managed still be interested at the end?”
“My investigation is ongoing, which is why it’s called a real-time documentary, Luke. The excitement comes from discovering things as you go along. Since it’s not scripted and you can’t read it off a teleprompter, I don’t expect you to fully grasp the concept.”
This brought a few chuckles.
“We don’t have a lot of history to go on, since this is a new format,” Graham said. “But what history we have from other programs tells us that viewers enjoy this type of journalism, since they learn about new findings at the same time, or close to it, as the program itself.”
“What if, God forbid, no new findings are discovered?” Luke asked in an overly dramatic tone.
“We have faith that Sidney knows what she’s doing.”
“Maybe so,” Luke said. “But a million viewers for the debut?”
“They’re summer numbers. The comps are not against the most-watched prime-time dramas from spring. Comps are from this time slot last June, and The Girl of Sugar Beach did well. The network has backed this project, Luke. It’s a new concept for us, and we’re all pleased with the opening numbers.”
Luke shrugged. “It’s safe to say that you can only go up.”
“Luke, what’s the problem? You’re being a bit of an ass, frankly,” Graham said.
“She left my show for this pet project. She carries at least an air of my reputation with her.” The Bear looked at Sidney. “So excuse me if I’m concerned about your ratings. Someone around here has to be.”
Sidney offered him an ugly smile. “Thanks, Luke. Your concern is touching.”
* * *
Sidney wheeled her small case into the elevator a few minutes later.
“He’s a serial misogynist and a complete asshole,” Leslie Martin said as soon as the doors closed. She was producing The Girl of Sugar Beach with Sidney.
“I’ve got too much to do to worry about Luke Barrington,” Sidney said, pressing the button for the lobby too many times and much harder than necessary.
“But goddamn, that man can smell blood in the water. We should call him ‘the Shark’ instead of ‘the Bear.’ He knows we were expecting higher numbers for the debut, even though Graham swore that only the production heads knew the projections.”
“One-point-two is great for a premiere. And we pulled in a decent share of the eighteen-to–twenty-four demo.”
“They wanted two million, as a conservative number. I’m woefully short. And they projected two million so that we could all jump for joy when the numbers came back higher than that.”
“These things build with the story. Making a Murderer had three times the audience for the final episodes than it had for the early ones. Same thing with Serial.”
“This is prime time, not a subscription service and not a podcast. All that matters are the ratings. They drive advertising. Advertising drives revenue. Revenue pays the bills and keeps the suits in their cushy jobs.” Sidney looked up briefly and watched the elevator numbers decline. An omen?
She blinked away and shook her head. “Christ, Leslie, what if he’s right? Do we even have a story to build on?”
“Of course, we do. We’re going to show inconsistencies.
Raise doubt. Offer alternative theories.
All of that will build suspense and intrigue.
Did Making a Murderer prove Steven Avery’s innocence?
Did Serial prove Adnan Syed’s? It’s not about guilt or innocence.
That’s the hook, but the guts will be about Grace Sebold’s story.
Who was she? How did this happen? People are still interested in her—we just have to tap into that interest. Forget about the Bear.
The network is behind you and heavily promoting it.
You’ve got Dante Campbell on your side and ads are running on Wake Up America.
Previous episodes can be viewed online, so our audience will grow.
Don’t wig out on me now. I need this job. ”
The elevator pinged as it reached the ground floor. “You’ve got a job, don’t worry about that.”
The doors opened and they walked into the lobby, where the tinted glass of the facade blunted the morning sunlight. Herds of Monday-morning commuters crisscrossed on the sidewalk outside.
“You know he’s working like a son of bitch just to score massive ratings with his damn White House special so he can bury us,” Sidney said. “Probably cashed in on a bunch of favors to secure those interviews.”
“Why do we care?”
“Because the goddamn Bear is trying to devour us, Leslie. He’s trying to put together a ratings tsunami that wipes The Girl of Sugar Beach off the map, so by the end of summer, no one has ever heard of it.
Or me. And then he can show everyone on his staff that when they leave to do something on their own, you end up like Sidney Ryan. ”
“Well, let’s prove the blowhard wrong then.”
Sidney shook her head. “Have you pulled the old high-school footage of Grace?”
“Yeah. Her parents turned over everything they had. Hours of family videos, so we should be able to pull plenty of cuts from them.”
“Good. Did you manage to find any material on Julian?”
Leslie shook her head. “His parents wouldn’t return my calls, so all we’ve got are stock photos. Yearbook and limited Facebook content from 2007.”
“Get me what you can. We’ll meet back here tonight to cut the draft of the next episode. Seven work for you?”
“Perfect. The suits will be gone by then. I’ll bring the wine.” Leslie tapped Sidney’s Starbucks cup with her own. “Cheers. This thing’s going to be a hit, Sid. Screw Luke Barrington.”
Sidney forced a smile and lifted her coffee, then wheeled her files to the curb to catch a cab.