Chapter 33
thirty-three
. . .
Jess
“We’ve got something.”
Kira drops a folder on my desk with the quiet intensity that always means a potentially explosive story has landed. I glance at the documentary camerawoman positioned in the corner of my office, capturing every movement for Dylan’s “day in the life of a journalist” segment. Great timing.
“Give me a minute,” I tell both Kira. “I need to review this first.”
Kira nods, understanding the subtext. Some things need to be assessed before they’re discussed on camera. She slips out of the office, closing the door behind her.
I open the folder and scan the contents. My stomach drops. It’s a legal brief: “Civil Complaint Filed: Vanessa Martin v. Senator Logan Carmichael—Allegations of Sexual Harassment, Hostile Work Environment, and Retaliatory Termination.”
It details allegations from Carmichael’s former scheduler, Vanessa Martin, who claims he made persistent unwanted advances, sent inappropriate texts, and eventually demoted her when she refused his overtures.
Shit.
I close the folder and press my fingers against my temples. Of all the stories to land on my desk today, it had to be this one. I can almost hear the universe laughing at me.
A week ago, I promised Lucas I wouldn’t dig into his father’s affairs. Now his father’s affairs have dug their way to me.
I buzz Kira back in, aware of our camerawoman adjusting her position to better capture our conversation.
“What do we know about the source?” I ask, keeping my voice neutral.
“Martin’s attorney reached out directly. They want to offer an exclusive interview before the story breaks wide.”
“Why us?” The question is automatic; the journalist in me is always suspicious of convenient tips.
“Your reputation from the MeToo exposés,” Kira explains. “And apparently, Martin’s sister follows your podcast.”
I nod, organizing my thoughts. “Verify the filing. Check Martin’s employment records. See if there are other complaints we can corroborate.”
“Already on it.” Kira hesitates. “There’s something else. The filing mentions a pattern of behavior with multiple women. Names have been redacted, but they reference incidents in the Hamptons.”
My mind flashes to Diane Mercer, the woman I saw with Logan. The timing is too perfect to be coincidental.
“Give me an hour,” I tell her. “Then we’ll map out a plan.”
When she leaves, I sit motionless, staring at the folder. The filming continues silently from the corner.
“Can we pause for a minute?” I ask her.
“Dylan requested that we keep rolling during editorial decisions,” she replies apologetically. “For authenticity.”
Of course he did. I force a professional smile. “I need to speak with Dylan. Now.”
Ten minutes later, Dylan strides into my office, all artistic intensity and caffeine energy.
“Privacy issue,” I say firmly. “Can we get some space?”
Dylan nods to the camerawoman, who lowers her main camera and steps outside.
“What’s up?” he asks, dropping into the chair across from me.
I slide the folder toward him. “This just landed on my desk.”
He skims the contents, his eyebrows rising progressively. “Whoa. This is complicated.”
“You think?” I run a hand through my hair. “Dylan, I need to know what we’re doing with footage like this. This is sensitive material.”
“It’s incredible content,” he counters, the filmmaker in him instantly recognizing the narrative value.
“The personal and professional collision is exactly what made me want to film you two in the first place. That night in Vegas, I saw something special between you and Lucas. And now this, well, it’s the ultimate test of a power couple. ”
His genuine belief in our love story would be touching if it weren’t so problematic right now.
Dylan studies me. “Have you told Lucas yet?”
“It just came in,” I say, avoiding the real question.
“But you’re going to tell him,” Dylan presses.
I stand and move to the window overlooking the city. The afternoon sun casts long shadows across downtown Los Angeles. Outside, the world continues with its normal rhythm, while mine feels suddenly off-kilter.
“It’s complicated.” I close my eyes briefly, remembering. “I promised Lucas that I wouldn’t dig into his father. That his family was off-limits unless he gave me permission.”
“But this came to you,” Dylan points out. “You didn’t go looking for it.”
“Do you think that distinction will matter to him?” The question comes out more with vulnerability than I intended.
Dylan leans forward. “Listen, Jess. Lucas loves you. He understands who you are.”
His words hit uncomfortably close to the truth I’ve been avoiding.
“Which is why this is so hard,” I admit. “If this were any other subject, any other story, I wouldn’t hesitate. But this is Lucas’s father, and no matter how complicated their relationship is, this will hurt him.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
I return to my chair and sink back into it. “I need to verify the claims first. Check Martin’s background and employment records, see if there’s a pattern of behavior.”
“And then?”
I stare at the folder, torn. “I don’t know. Journalistically, I have an obligation to pursue this story. But personally…”
“You’re worried about Lucas’s reaction,” Dylan finishes for me.
“Wouldn’t you be?” I challenge. “This isn’t just any story. This is his family.”
Dylan taps the folder thoughtfully. “Maybe wait until you have more information. Know exactly what you’re dealing with before you bring it to him.”
I nod, relieved that someone else is articulating the same instinct I’m feeling. “I need to be absolutely certain before I drop this on him. The allegations could be exaggerated or politically motivated.”
“But if they’re legitimate?” Dylan presses.
“Then I’ll tell him,” I say, though my stomach twists at the thought. “But I need facts first, not just allegations. I owe him that much.”
Then I ask, “What about the doc footage? If this becomes a story, I don’t want our personal reaction breaking on screen before we’ve dealt with it privately.”
“We’ll be careful with it,” Dylan assures me. “This is sensitive material. I’m not looking to ambush either of you.”
I narrow my eyes. “You say that, but I know that filmmaker instinct of yours, Dylan. The drama of it all must be irresistible.”
He grins, not even trying to deny it. “It’s compelling, I won’t lie. But I respect both of you too much to turn this into reality TV.” He stands to leave. “Just keep me in the loop. And remember, great marriages survive challenges like this. Makes for better storytelling.”
After he leaves, I buzz Kira back in. “Get me everything you can on Vanessa Martin. Employment history, social media, previous complaints, anything that helps establish credibility. And reach out to her attorney to set up a preliminary call.”
“On it. And Lucas?” she asks tentatively, aware of the delicate situation.
“Let me worry about Lucas,” I say more confidently than I feel.
When she leaves, I turn back to the folder and flip through the allegations again. They’re detailed and specific enough to warrant investigation, but I need more before I can determine if this is a legitimate scandal or a political hit job.
As I work, I try to ignore the gnawing feeling that I’m already crossing a line that Lucas asked me not to cross. But I’m not digging into his father, I argue with myself. I’m verifying a legitimate tip that came to me.
The distinction feels increasingly hollow with each page I turn.
I just hope that by the time Lucas finds out about this story, I’ll have enough facts to make him understand why I had to pursue it.
And why I didn’t tell him right away.