Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
S alem
For two weeks, Kellen has avoided me. I shouldn’t care, but I can’t stop myself from being bothered by the fact that a man I spent nearly twenty-four incredibly sexy hours with now wants nothing to do with me and can’t even muster up enough kindness to care that I’m one floor down from him.
Thankfully, I have work to keep me occupied. Three online sites have run stories about him and how successful he was in school, and they didn’t even tack on a comment about what the hell happened to him. While I’m happy some sites are willing to investigate the better parts of his past, none of the larger media outlets have done so. Nonetheless, I continue to reach out every day trying to promote a different, more appealing side to Kellen King.
My contact at CNN has been off on vacation, but he sent me a message to let me know he’d be back in the office today, so the first thing on my to-do list today is giving him a call. Curtis has always liked me, so I’m hoping he’ll give my newest troubled client a chance to be something other than the worst man in the world currently.
His phone rings only once before he answers. “Salem Roberts, how the hell have you been?”
I love how informal Curtis always is with me. Others might have a problem with it or think it shows a lack of respect, but if he’s casual, I know I have a chance to get what I want. To be honest, it’s the proper ones who never want to give an inch but expect a mile.
“Curtis, what is this I hear about you on vacation? Who told you there was time off in that job?” I joke, teasing him even though I don’t think he’s taken even a week off from work in all the time I’ve known him.
“It got to me. The hours. The pressure. It all got to me, and I told Siara one morning a few weeks ago that if I didn’t get away, she was going to be visiting me in a rubber room. She had the flights booked and a hotel at the beach for seven days by the time I got home that night.”
I chuckle at the idea of Curtis ever not being a part of the news world. It’s in his blood. The guy may take a break every once in a blue moon, but he’s a newsman through and through.
“You sound like you had a good time. All rested and ready for another slog through the headline makers?” I ask, waiting for the right time to mention what I actually called for.
“You know me, Salem. I didn’t actually take much of a break. I just needed time away from the office. That’s all. You know, I didn’t think I’d miss the days of working at home during the plague, but damnit, I got used to having meetings in my shorts and taking walks with Toodles and Truffles.”
It always makes me smile thinking about Curtis walking those two little black and white Yorkshire Terriers around his gated community. He can be one tough son of a bitch, but get him around those dogs and he turns into a softie who talks to them like they’re his babies.
“I guess now Siara has to do that job?”
He grunts like the very thought of that displeases him. “She always hurries them. Says she doesn’t want our neighbors to see the dogs shit. She bought the damn things, but from the moment she brought them home, I’ve been the one responsible for them.”
“And you love every minute of it, so don’t try to tell me any differently.”
He laughs at the truth. “I do. It’s the oddest thing. I’ve never liked kids or dogs, but those two light up my day. I go downstairs first thing in the morning barely awake, but then I see their sweet little faces as they scamper around waiting for me to give them breakfast, and it’s like I’m the happiest version of myself. Strange, huh?”
“It’s who you are, Curtis.”
He may be sweet with those dogs, but he’s too sharp to think I simply called to shoot the breeze about his vacation and the puppies. “So, what’s this I hear about you representing Kellen King?”
Nothing like diving into the deep end head first.
“Everyone deserves to have someone working to show the world they’re a good person, Curtis. One mistake does not a lifetime make.”
“I think Nixon said that. Or maybe it was Benedict Arnold,” he jokes.
“Seriously, the guy made one mistake. He’s not the worst person in the world. I’m just trying to show that he’s done some good things in his life. Nothing more.”
That’s a lie, but in my line of work, it’s expected.
“I hear what you’re saying, but damn, that interview was a nightmare. I know you weren’t working with him when he did that.”
Again, someone mentions that interview. I swear that gets talked about more than the actual mistake Kellen made with that woman.
“Of course not! You know I wouldn’t send a client into a situation like that. You know how I work. Lay low and make people forget the bad while your PR team shows the world the other side of you.”
Curtis laughs again. “Which is what I assume this call is about?”
“I’ve got some smaller outlets running stories, but none of the bigger ones like your organization will do it yet. What do you say to being in the vanguard, Curtis?”
“You know I love you, Salem, but the guy is radioactive right now. I will say this. I’ve heard a few people talking about it, and whatever you’re doing is working. He’s still a son of a bitch, but even women are wondering if this didn’t go from a simple mistake to a witch hunt in less than five seconds flat.”
Well, that’s good to hear. I hadn’t expected the public furor to die down this soon. Good. Now if I can just get the positive out there for everyone to hear and read, I know Kellen King will be forgotten, replaced by the next celebrity who screws up on Instagram or the next sports star who’s caught on a hot mic saying something inappropriate.
“Whatever mistakes he’s made, he has a past full of honorable achievements, Curtis. I know it’s popular in the news business to run with the most salacious and the most negative stories, but I don’t think viewers want that anymore. Give them something positive. Let them see someone fall and then get back up again.”
“You sound like you admire him. I figured of all the people I know, you’d be front and center with the torch and pitchfork.”
Why do men keep saying that? Yes, I’m a feminist, but that doesn’t mean I think all men should be tarred and feathered.
“I have a job to do. All I’m saying is whatever he may or may not have done, he’s not a monster. I just want the public to have a chance to see that.”
Curtis hums, which I know means he’s thinking up some idea. I’m open to pretty much anything, as long as it doesn’t hurt Kellen’s already battered reputation.
“What if I can get him an interview? Would he be willing?”
I shudder at the thought of another interview. Kellen isn’t anywhere close to being able to talk about what happened with any sort of detachment. However, I know I can’t dismiss it out of hand either.
“At the moment, he’s spending time with family, but maybe in the future. But I won’t let him get sliced and diced like he did in that last one.”
Laughing, Curtis lets out a whistle. “I have to tell you even I cringed when she went after him. He didn’t stand a chance, Salem.”
I can’t admit I haven’t watched it yet, but Ever did and gave me the CliffsNotes on the massacre. Not that I need to see Kellen act like a petulant bastard or a surly child. That’s all I’ve gotten to see of him since I took this job.
“It was social suicide. You know I wouldn’t let any client do that to themselves. I fix things.”
“Okay, let me see what I can arrange. Are you open to anything? I need to know before I pitch this to my producers.”
My stomach does a flip at the word anything. I’m not sure how Kellen will handle the work involved in rehabilitating his life since he doesn’t think he did anything wrong. I can’t shut down Curtis now, though. If he’s willing to see what he can do, I need to be willing to agree to whatever he can offer.
“We’re open to anything, but, and this is a big but, before we agree to any interview, we’ll need to see some reporting on him that doesn’t involve those torches and pitchforks you mentioned a minute ago. I’ll be offering everyone the same deal. You know I like you, Curtis, so you’re first up. It just depends on who wants to be the first one to get that interview.”
“Just promise me you won’t go to Miss Thing with the Big Hair. I know she’ll promise you the moon and the stars, but don’t go with her. Okay?”
I can’t help but laugh at the name he insists on calling Jessica Marchand. A former colleague of his from back in his NBC days, she’s blown up a lot since she struck out on her own and got a deal to do four big interviews a year for Netflix. She loves to rave about how streaming is where it’s at, and for old school news guys like Curtis, that’s like a stab in the heart.
And she has had the same big hairdo since the nineties, which makes her look like one of those old time country western singers. So his nickname, which not complimentary, isn’t incorrect.
Glancing at my notes on the desk, I smile when I see her name on my list of people to call today. “She’s already inquired about Kellen being her summer interview,” I tell Curtis.
He groans and then lets out a heavy sigh. “Okay. I’ll see what I can arrange. Has she promised she’ll do some positive stories on him before her interview? Because I’m not seeing a lot of actual reporting out of her these days. She’s far too busy eating five hundred dollar steaks for dinners at wherever the newest hot spot in town is this week.”
“She will have to promise that if she wants to speak to him. Everybody gets the same deal. Now it’s just a matter of who comes through first. You know how to find me.”
“I do. How about lunch sometime this week?” he asks, back to being his usual pleasant self now that the shop talk is done.
“Are you asking as a friend?” I tease.
“Of course. You know me, Salem. We’ve been friends since you came to me right out of college with that idea for that story that got me a promotion. I still owe you.”
I roll my eyes at how he says that all the time. “No, you don’t.”
“I’ll be free later this week. What do you say we grab some bad food neither one of us should be eating and a few beers?”
The man knows how to tempt a woman. That’s for sure.
“If I can get away, I’d love to do lunch, even if it is bad for me. Text me and let me know when. And tell Siara I said hello.”
“Will do. Talk to you soon, and I’ll let you know if I get anyone to bite on your proposal.”
I end the call, happy to have spoken to my dear friend and pleased with what I’ve heard so far today. Jessica Marchand is next up to get my offer, but like Curtis, I’m not a huge fan of hers. Sure, Netflix will make a huge deal about the interview, but she has a nasty habit of being too sensational when she thinks she needs to. Since the ratings for her winter interview weren’t out of this world spectacular and her spring interview only moderately better, God only knows how desperate she is to have a great one happen for her this summer.
Happy to be making some headway on Kellen’s behalf, I stand up and stretch my arms over my head, feeling good as I remember I need to get back to working out. I haven’t done a single lunge or crunch since before I went to that resort.
That reminds me of that cantaloupe I saw in the refrigerator last night, so I head out to the kitchen to eat something healthy for the first time in over a week. Kellen is sitting at the island, and he turns to look at me with an expressionless stare when I walk into the room.
Fully expecting him at any moment to say something nasty or storm out in a huff, I brace myself for my feelings to be hurt. I’m surprised when he doesn’t make a move to leave. He doesn’t speak to me or even give me a tiny smile he has to force, but he doesn’t hurry to get away either.
I cut up the cantaloupe on the cutting board over on the counter, and behind me he continues to eat a bowl of cereal. Part of me wants to turn around and make small talk because it feels like I should, but the other part remembers how cruel he was when he yelled the last time he spoke to me two weeks ago, so I say nothing.
He walks over to the sink and rinses out the bowl and spoon before putting them in the dishwasher. I can’t help but watch him, wondering if he’ll say anything, but he merely walks out of the room without speaking a word to me.
As I return to eating the cantaloupe, I think about how we were at the resort and find it amazing that we’re the same two people who don’t even speak to one another now. I may be making progress on my work to fix his reputation, but when it comes to the two us personally, that’s turned into an epic failure.
Oh, well. I can’t think about that.
When I finish my snack, I make my way back to my office to call my favorite private investigator. I think I need to know more about the woman who’s working hard to make Kellen King a social pariah for the rest of his life.