Chapter 7 #2
“Oh, wow, the great Ms. Lancaster is gracing us with her presence, how lucky we are,” Emmit Jones called when I walked through the doors of the Harbor Herald offices bright and early the next morning.
He was editor-in-chief of Hade Harbor University’s only reputable publication and a total asshole, and I was pretty sure he had it out for me personally.
He’d been friends with my douchebag cousin who’d transferred a while back.
It might also have something to do with the fact that Emmit had seemed to think that because I’d started school on a scholarship and in dorms, that I’d be grateful for any attention I got from someone who was more experienced in journalism than me.
When I wasn’t, and then, when he’d found out my family’s privileged circumstances, his hostility had only grown.
I forced a smile and dropped my bag on the small desk he’d assigned me to in the corner.
“Well, I don’t really need to be here every day to write a gossip column, do I?” I ground out.
Emmit raised his eyebrows at my tone. “Does that mean you’re ready to let that go and let the junior staff have a crack at it? Leaving us, are you?”
“Not even remotely, sorry to disappoint you.” My smile grew more and more strained. “I just meant that I get the best stories out and about on campus, of course.”
Emmit nodded with an irritating smirk around his lips. “Well, let me know when you get tired of your position; I have a waiting list to replace you.”
“You could always just put me on something else,” I suggested, knowing it was futile, but unable to stop myself.
“Hmm, I could, couldn’t I? I’m afraid you haven’t found a way to talk me into giving you a shot, Lancaster. I need journalists who worked hard to get here, not just asked daddy for a leg up.”
The phone on his desk rang and he answered, stopping me from retorting to his cruel and completely untrue accusation.
The motherfucker insisted on believing that I’d nepo-ed my way into HHU, which couldn’t be further from the truth.
I’d had to go against my father, who hadn’t wanted me to study journalism at all.
In fact, he’d suggested that I get involved with my mother’s charity fundraising full time, instead of going to college.
It was clear what kind of woman my father wanted me to grow up to be, and how his plans were diametrically opposed to my dreams.
I sat down and put my headphones on, and opened my laptop. Whether I hated the gossip column or not, I still needed to turn it in on time, or Emmit would get rid of me as fast as he could.
An hour later, I sent it over to the assistant editor, Alanna, and went to her desk to say hi. Emmit might be the editor-in-chief, but Alanna did ninety-five percent of the work. Typical.
“Got it. Just let me read it real quick,” Alanna said, her eyes trained on her screen. I wandered around her little office as she read my piece.
She had articles framed on the walls with her byline. Jealousy surged through me, but I pushed it down. I had no problem with Alanna. She’d worked hard for all the recognition she had. I scanned a story that she did as a freshman about protests on campus.
“It’s great, no notes, like always,” Alanna announced behind me.
I sat down in the chair opposite her. “Ok, that’s good, because technically I think I have about an hour before deadline, right?”
She nodded. “Yes, you are always the last, but it’s ok. I know you’re going to knock it out of the park.”
“Hmm, for a piece no one cares about, sure,” I sighed. “If I ever brought you something else, something real, would you run it?”
“Emmit has to approve all articles,” Alanna said rotely, and then peered at me. “Why? Do you have something?”
I shrugged. “Maybe, I don’t know. I have a lead, maybe… an interesting thread to tug on.”
Alanna raised her eyebrow at me. “A lead isn’t a story.”
“I know. I just can’t imagine going to all the effort of getting the real story, just to not have a place to run it.”
Alanna tapped her lip, considering. “I can’t guarantee you a place in the paper before I see the article… but I do know this. Emmit would green-light a killer story, no matter who wrote it, and if he didn’t, I would.”
“So, you’re saying it’s all about the story?
” I said. It was something I already knew.
The only way to overcome Emmit’s obvious aversion to putting my real writing anywhere was to have a story that he needed to publish.
Something showstopping. Like exposing an MC gang and their illegal gunrunning or drug operation?
Drugs that could be flooding our campus this very second?
Yeah, that would do it, and save Rosie nights of heartbreak at the same time.
Alanna’s words gave me hope. If I brought the story, she would run it. That would change everything for me before time ran out.
“I hear you,” I told her, getting up and slinging my bag across my body.
Alanna narrowed her eyes at me. “Why do I feel the need to remind you that we don’t condone any of our staff putting themselves into dangerous or illegal situations to get a story?”
I tapped my nose conspiratorially, making Alanna shake her head.
“Of course not, I’d never think that.”
“I’m serious!” she called as I grinned at her, walking backward toward the doors.
“I’ve got you. I’ll see you later in the week.”
Alanna was right. The story was king. She’d worked her way into the best position she could hope to, considering that Emmit was sitting in the top spot with no sign of going anywhere until he graduated.
If I wanted to write something serious, I needed to show that I’d do serious things to get that information.
I needed to go back to The Clutch, and this time, I wasn’t leaving without my next lead.
No matter what.