that most likely came from news stories. The stories weren’t anything she had written. She scribbled a few notes in her notepad. She looked around the newsroom. A few more reporters had arrived. She ripped out the page of her notebook, crumbled it and threw it in her garbage can. Should she even leave it there? She reached in and pulled it out.
“This is ridiculous,” she mumbled to herself. For all she knew this was a practical joke played on her by coworkers who wanted her to chase a bogus lead. Still, there was a line from the letter about protecting family that tore at her. She closed the disc so no one could see it on her screen. She slowly walked to the paper shredder and fed the notepaper through the little slit. By the time she got back to her desk, Burt had waddled in and plopped into his chair. Her mind was so preoccupied with the disc she forgot to be upset at his presence.
“What’s wrong with you, Little Girl,” Burt asked. Kristine had complained to Human Resources about the names, but Burt was definitely an old dog and he wouldn’t learn the trick of civility. Kristine couldn’t manage to put the effort into being flirty with him - there was nothing in it for her.
“It seems as though most of my problems involve sitting across from you, Newman,” she said in retort. She had to admit, she almost enjoyed their verbal sparring from time to time. It kept her on her toes, and she was often pleased when she came up with something so witty it shut up Burt.
“Did the princess start the day on the wrong side of the bed? Maybe if you were prettier you would have someone in it to stop you from rolling that far,” Burt said with a snort of pride at his retort.
“Write anything that actually made it into the paper lately?” she said in a superior tone as she picked up her cell phone and pretended to call someone. She had been called many things, but ugly wasn’t one. She dialed her home number and started talking before the machine kicked on to play her recorded message. She thought she heard Burt mumble the word “bitch” as he looked for his pencil.
After her five minute, one-way conversation with the answering machine, she closed the phone and put it on her desk. She was desperate to open the disc again, but she didn’t want to do it now. Not with prying eyes. The newspaper business is very competitive. She removed the disc from the computer and slid it into an envelope. She carried the envelope with her to the Editor-in-Chief’s office.
William Montgomery was a southern gentleman who earned the title of editor-in-chief by working his way up the corporate ladder from being a clerk. His family’s money and influence could have gotten him there much faster. He was the type of man who believed in hard work, and no one could ever accuse him of taking any favors.
Will was the person who had the final decision whether Kristine was hired. She had interviewed with other editors on the newspaper, but she felt quite sure Will had requested an interview with her. She knew she caught his eye as she toured the newsroom, just as he had caught hers. He was tall - maybe 6’4, handsome and dressed in designer clothes. His dark blond hair showed signs of graying. He had the slender body of a distance runner, and his dimples were enough to make any woman melt. He gave the impression that every line on his face was hard earned. He was the anti-Burt. Will spoke with a slight hint of a southern drawl and an intelligence that made Kristine envious. Kristine was young, impetuous and always focused on the end result. Will saw the big picture. Will was more deliberate and thoughtful in his actions. She recognized he had a maturity that she hoped she would gain with age and experience. She sometimes even caught herself trying to think like Will in situations. That’s what she needed now that she had this disc.
Will’s secretary sat outside his office like a lioness protecting her young complete with long red nails that looked like they were painted with the blood of the last person who tried to get in to see him without an appointment. Joyce didn’t like Kristine - that was obvious from day one. Joyce had a Lurch-from-the-Addams-Family quality to her. There wasn’t a feminine feature in her pale, sunken face. “Hey, Joyce,” Kristine said whimsically as she walked into the office. Kristine stood about 5’10 with her 2 ½” heels, but Joyce still had a couple of inches on her and probably about 70 pounds.
“He’s busy,” Joyce said only briefly looking away from her computer screen to see Kristine. She made a disapproving sound with her mouth. Kristine glanced down at her attire and wondered what caused the reproachful noise this time. The skirt? No. It hit her at the knee, and Joyce couldn’t see that anyway. Was it the spaghetti strap shirt? Hm…maybe. It showed her shoulders and scooped lower than what Joyce would probably deem acceptable. Kristine instinctively pushed out her modest chest to add to Joyce’s annoyance.
“Can you at least let him know I’m here to see him?” Kristine asked calmly. “It’s important.” She was more focused on the disc than verbally sparing with Joyce.
“Isn’t it always, dear?” Joyce replied in a scolding tone. That was pretty much it for Kristine.
“Yes, Joyce. I try to keep our social visits to a minimum, so if I’m here, it’s important,” Kristine grew agitated about Joyce’s dismissal of her. In Kristine’s mind, Joyce didn’t believe she had anything important to say. Joyce picked up the phone and buzzed Will.
“I’m sorry to bother you. Kristine Larkin is here to see you. I told her you were…” Joyce looked at Kristine with a disappointed expression. “Yes Sir.” She put down the phone. “You can go in,” she said in defeat and returned to her computer screen.
Kristine walked into Will’s office. He was behind his desk reading this morning’s edition. He raised his eyes and looked over his glasses at her.
“Your pit bull needs to be put on a leash,” Kristine said as she swung the door closed behind her.
“Good morning to you, too,” Will said as he removed the glasses and put them on his desk. “Nice job on the bank robbery story. What can I do for you?” Kristine had already sat down in the chair across from him. She was looking at the envelope she was holding in her pin-stripped lap and wishing she had thought more about what she would say once she was in this chair.
“I think I’d like some time to do some investigating on a lead I got this morning,” she said. “It may take some time to flesh out the story, and I’d like to be 100% dedicated to it.”
“What lead?”
“Uh, it’s this disc someone gave me. Not much to go on yet, but I’d like to look into it.”
“A disc? Who gave it to you?”
“I, uh, I’m not sure.”
Will leaned back in his chair, rested his elbows on the chair arms and put the tips of his fingers together. She felt like she needed to say something else. She searched her mind for words. She hated when he did this - she wanted to know what he was thinking.
“So, I have some information that I just want to look into. It’s not a big deal. Or, well, it could be a big deal depending on what I find. Will you say something now? I hate awkward silence.”
Her mind flashed back to her interview with Will. He sat there silently watching her answer questions. He didn’t take notes - just sat there with his finger tips touching. She hid her nervousness so well she thought she might have even amused him. She wore a black suit that looked like it had been tailored for her. The skirt ended just above the knee and the white blouse under the jacket was opened just far enough to be professional but still draw some attention. She may have accidentally let her skirt ride up her leg a little farther when she sat down and crossed her legs. She may have leaned over a little more than necessary when she reached for her clippings in her bag. She may have even twirled a wisp of hair
