Chapter Twenty-Two #2
“Shit. Where’s my tie?” I stumbled into the bedroom and bumped my knee on the bedframe. We hadn’t made it home until past midnight, I’d had quite a few drinks, and then we’d stayed up making love. My last recollection of time was pale light breaking through the blinds.
“Wha…” Rip rolled over, mumbling, but I had no time to admire him in all his gorgeous nakedness. I was running late for my meeting with Rob.
“Who the fuck calls for a nine a.m. meeting on a Monday, the day after a crucial game?” I grumbled but didn’t expect an answer. It was my own stupidity to get caught up in celebrating the Blades’ win and forget to keep a clear head.
Rip yawned and pushed the hair out of his eyes. “A sadist. Don’t worry. Take one of mine from the closet. You’re gonna kill it. Call me after. I might be at practice, but I’ll check my messages.”
I nodded and ran into the shower, barely wetting myself but enough to get the smell of the bar and Rip off me. I dressed in my best suit, a freshly washed and ironed shirt, thanks to dry cleaning preplanning, and Rip’s tie. I brushed my hair and gave my reflection a pep talk in the hall mirror.
“You got this. You can do it.”
I arrived at Rob’s office a minute before nine, stomach empty because I didn’t want to come to the meeting with sesame or poppy seeds caught in my teeth from my usual everything bagel. Rosalind smiled as I approached her desk.
“He’s waiting for you. Go right on in.”
I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
When I entered, I expected to see Rob and the station manager, but Rob was alone.
“Good morning,” I said.
Rob pointed to the chair in front of his desk. “Sit, Adrian.”
Heart thundering, I took the chair and waited.
“Ed couldn’t make it. Great game last night. How’s Rip doing this morning?”
There was no leering or innuendo, which I appreciated.
“He’s good. Sore, but eager to start practicing for the finals.”
“I’ll bet he is. I don’t know how those guys do it.”
My heart sank, as I wasn’t getting a single positive vibe from Rob, but I had to ask. “What’s going on with Louie? I’ve tried calling him, but I haven’t been able to get through to anyone.”
The first sign of true emotion clouded Rob’s face. “Ahh, man, it sucks. Louie’s leg isn’t healing as well as they’d hoped. He’s going into a rehab facility down in Florida, where his sister lives. He lives alone up here and can’t take care of himself.”
The news hit me like an arrow to the heart. “Oh, no. Damn. I can’t believe it. I thought he was doing so well.”
“We had hopes he’d be on his way to a full recovery by now, or at least be able to do the sports from home, but he’s in too much pain.”
“That’s horrible. He’s so active, it must kill him to have to sit and do nothing.”
“Yeah. So that brings me to our meeting. We asked Bryan to take Louie’s spot full-time, and he agreed. But he doesn’t need an intern. He prefers to do the work on his own.”
My heart slammed, then did a deep dive to the pit of my stomach.
“I understand.” We’d never really vibed, and I sensed that for all his buddy-buddy words, he resented my in with Rip and the Blades.
I blew out a breath. “What about the show? Are you going to tell me if I’m going to get a chance to continue? ”
He steepled his hands under his chin. “Ed still has concerns about your qualifications, so for the second show, we’re thinking to have Bryan do the interviews. He’s got the name recognition.”
“B-but it was my idea. It’s my show,” I sputtered, outraged that someone else would get the credit. “That’s not fair to me.”
He shrugged. “No one said it had to be fair.”
Angered by his brush-off, I grew heated.
“I think that’s wrong. You’re wrong. I came up with the format.
I pitched the guests. You can’t just steal my idea and think that’s okay.
And Bryan gets to benefit from everything I set up and put into place?
No way.” I rose to my feet. “You know you’re screwing me, don’t you?
I’ve worked my ass off doing whatever anyone asked of me, even pretending to date Rip to get the show. ”
“So you’re not together? You’re faking it?” Rob folded his arms. “Didn’t look like that to me from the pictures I’ve seen of you together.”
My cheeks burned. “Whatever. That’s not important. My personal life—”
“Is the reason you got the chance.”
His casual dismissal of my work pissed me off even more.
“Yeah? So what? Everyone has an in with someone. Big fucking deal. I did great on the show and you know it. I’ve gotten great sound bites from the other players.
You can’t take the show from me. I’ve proved I can do it.
” I leaned across the desk. “If you take the show from me, I’m going to go over your head and talk to Ed. ”
Rob glared at me. My breath came hard and heavy, but I held his gaze. All of a sudden, he began to laugh. “Bravo. You aren’t the same scared kid who came here a few months ago. You stood up for yourself, stood up to me. That takes balls.”
Still angry, I didn’t break. “So what?”
“That’s why we’re giving you the show.” He folded his arms and gave me a big, cheesy grin. “Just wanted to see how you’d react if I poked the bear. And it was better than I expected.”
“You what? You think it’s funny to make me feel like shit? Is that what you think great management style is—torturing people mentally?” Trembling, I paced the office. “I can tell you it’s not. Thanks for letting me know. Is there anything else?”
“No. I’m expecting full coverage of the finals. Bryan will be here in the studio, waiting for your feed.”
I gave a sharp nod. “And the show?”
“We’ll be starting the promos this week, so make sure you have your final lineups on my desk for the next one by the afternoon so I can get the names to production.”
God, I wanted to punch him right in that smirking face, but I wasn’t stupid. An interview show, even if it was solely sports-related, could lead to bigger things. I was only twenty-eight and could bide my time.
“That’s fine. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I left his office and found my way to my cubicle. My phone buzzed, and I saw it was Rip.
“Hi.”
“So? How’d it go?”
I decided not to bother telling him about Rob’s idiocy and concentrated on the positive. “I got it. They’re gonna start promos right away.”
“Yes, baby. I knew you could do it. We’ll celebrate tonight. I love you.”
“I love you too. It’s good, isn’t it? My own show. I can’t believe it.”
“I can. And it’s great news. You’re gonna nail it.” His voice dropped to that sexy rumble that never failed to turn me on. “And I’m gonna nail you tonight when you get home.”
“I’m counting on it,” I murmured.
“You can count on me no matter what. Us together is all we need. Now go do your job, and I’m going to practice.” He hesitated. “I’m proud of you, Adrian.”
After we ended the call, I took some time to think about what Rob had said. In the heat of the moment I’d been strong enough to make my case, yet I felt the same—I still wasn’t sure if I could handle the weight of a show all by myself.
My desk phone rang.
“Hello, Adrian Hunt.”
“Kiddo, how’s it goin’?” Louie’s cheerful voice brought a smile to my face.
“Louie. Jesus, I’m so glad to hear your voice. I just saw Rob, and he told me you’re down in Florida?”
“Yeah. Man, it sucks. Everyone here is old and looks like me, but the docs say I gotta come here and rehab this bionic ankle and knee they made for me.” His sigh hurt my heart. “I ain’t comin’ home, kiddo. It’s gonna be a long road. I gotta retire.”
“I’m so sorry, Louie.”
“Me too, kiddo. But Bryan’ll do a good job. And hey, I hear they’re gonna go forward with your show. I thought you did a great job—you’re a natural. Must be your love life.” He cackled, and I grew warm, glad we weren’t on FaceTime.
“You’re a real comedian, Louie.”
“You know I’m joking. Truth is, you have a natural ability to draw information out of people. It’s definitely a gift, and you’ve got it. I could see it, and so could Rob.”
“Come on, Louie. You don’t have to jerk my chain. I know—”
“You think I’m lyin’? No fuckin’ way. You know Rob’s not one to give out praise, and neither am I. We’re both straight shooters, and we call it like it is.”
Why was I getting emotional? My family had always encouraged me to follow my dreams, and of course Rip had given me all the praise and help I could possibly want, but it wasn’t enough. Maybe because it was the first time someone in my field had ever given me that pat on the back I’d yearned for.
“Thanks. I think that’s what I needed to hear. I-I really miss you, Louie. It’s not the same around here without you.”
“Yeah? Well, that’s the thing, kid. Life goes on, whether you want it to or not. It’s how you choose to live that life that makes the difference. I had my turn, and now it’s time for me to move on and make room for the new cowboys. Like you.”
Hearing Louie call me a cowboy had me laughing despite the gaping loss his departure would leave for both the station and me.
“Thanks, Louie. I’ll be calling you. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“Anytime, kiddo. You can take the old dog out of the newsroom…yadda, yadda. Talk to you soon.”
The moment I ended the call with Louie, the phone on my desk rang again.
“Hello, Sports Desk. Adrian Hunt speaking.”
“I’m Mel Banfield, Pedro Espinoza’s publicity agent. We’d like to see about getting him a spot on your new show. The New York Empires just signed him last week as their new outfielder.”
I hadn’t kept up with baseball news—my concentration had been solely on hockey—but I could fake it with the best of them.
“Sure. Send me your media kit, stats, and a highlight reel, and I’ll get back to you with a date. You have my email?” I recited it to her.
“Excellent. Thank you. I’ll have that for you today.”
“I’ll look for it.”
I sat in my chair, savoring the moment, and glanced up to see Rob at my door.
“Good work, Hunt. Ed’s free and wants to talk now.”
Finally, I felt like I belonged.