1
The Promotion
Alexandra Reed turnedfromher stoic guest and stared into the lens of Camera One. “I’m Alexandra Reed. For everyone here atLA After Dark, thank you for joining us.” She smiled. “Goodnight.”
She waited until the director yelled, “Cut!” before unclipping the mic from her suit jacket. The high-powered woman seated next to her burst intotears.
The music exec had just admitted to coercing musicians into signing record deals, threatening managers with blackmail, and accepting several lucrative bribes over the course of threedecades.
Alexandra had come prepared, asked the hard questions, and anticipated pushback from the powerful Hollywood recordmogul.
Instead, she got a full admission ofguilt.
The weekly magazine show was more fluff than substance, so that made the confession even sweeter. Leaning close, she whispered, “You did the rightthing.”
The segment producer whirled onto the set with a box of tissues, plucked two and held them out. Alexandra wanted to laugh at his sympathetic expression —big, melancholy eyes, nurturing smile.Who’s he kidding?This interview would reel in humongousratings.
And Alexandra’s reign as Los Angeles’s ratings queen would live on for anotherweek.
But her heart tightened at the downward spiral this person’s life might take, in part, because she’d done herjob.
“Rick wants to talk with you,” said the producer. “You go ahead. I’llstay.”
“I’m here if you want to talk,” Alexandra whispered to the teary-eyed CEO who blotted her mascara-stainedcheeks.
Surprisingly, the businesswoman smiled. “I’ll probably get a book deal. Plus, my golden parachute is worth more than my salary. When does the showair?”
“Tomorrow night,” Alexandrareplied.
The exec extended her hand. “You’re better than a colonic, Alexandra. Thanks for exorcising myconscience.”
With a relieved breath and a satisfied smile, Alexandra pumped her hand before heading toward her boss’s office. The tappety-tap of her stilettos on the shiny linoleum went silent when she exited the studio and her feet hit thecarpet.
She knocked on her boss’s open door. Rick Schwartz glanced up, waved her in, and continued bombarding his assistant with a laundry list of to-doitems.
Rick was the best boss Alexandra had ever had. In some ways, he’d been her mentor, too. What he lacked in neatness and organizational skills, he made up tenfold in his keen ability to uncover the perfect story angle. He demanded excellence and integrity. He didn’t believe in excuses and, like Alexandra, he knew that garnering the truth demanded persistence, respect, and a knack forstorytelling.
“Thank you,” Rick said to his assistant before she closed the door behindher.
“You wanted to see me?” Alexandraasked.
“Nice job.” Rick’s broad grin made her smile. “You got a full confession.” He gestured to the chair across his desk, filled with scattered news copy, his beat-up computer bag, and two coffee-stained plasticcups.
Rather than attempting to relocate his things, she leaned against hiswindowsill.
He glimpsed his chair and offered an apology by way of a sheepish smile. “I’ve got news.” During his pregnant pause, her heart kicked up speed. “Congratulations, you got thejob.”
On the inside, Alexandra was jumping up and down like a child who wakes to a foot of snow and no school. “Thank you,Rick.”
“I recommended you. Brass agreed. A no-brainer. Your contract will get lost in legal long enough for the excitement to wear off.” He glanced at his computer screen. “Oh, wow. It’s almost Thanksgiving. Feels like September. I anticipate you’ll start your new gig lateJanuary.”
For as far back as she could remember, she’d wanted to be an investigative reporter. “My dreamjob.”
“For the time being, you’ll continue hostingLA After Darkand anchor the evening news on theweekends.”
“Whatever you need.” She grinned. “I’m prettyexcited.”
“You deserve this promotion. Take the afternoon off. Iinsist.”
