Page 24 of Making It Live!

ChapterTen

Jimmy

The lineup was on Nelson's desk by 2:47 p.m.

I delivered it early, because if Nelson Mackenzie wanted to set a test, I intended to pass it with a margin wide enough to be insulting.

I'd been in the building all morning, working through the overnight feeds and a carafe of coffee Ray set on the EP desk without being asked.The lineup was clean.Three blocks, no filler, no dead weight — his words from last night, thrown back at him in the language of a show tighter than anything my predecessor Greg Fletcher had produced during his ill-fated tenure.The A-block led with the Supreme Court's upcoming ruling on executive authority — strong, timely, the kind of story that rewarded preparation.The B-block had an investigative package on defense-contractor lobbying that I'd pulled from the network's research desk and rebuilt with two additional sources.The C-block was a live interview with a whistleblower from the pharmaceutical-pricing story Nelson's previous EP had run as a limp package two weeks ago.

No rescue dogs.No filler.Nothing Nelson Mackenzie could remotely call adequate.

I left the printed lineup on his desk with a sticky note that read, in my neatest handwriting:

Lineup for tonight.Three blocks.No dead weight.—J.Goodman

The sticky note was petty.I was aware it was petty, and I didn't give a damn.

* * *

The editorial meeting was held in a glass-walled conference room on the fourth floor that the staff called the Fishbowl, because anyone walking past could see exactly who was getting eaten alive by the sharks inside.

I arrived at 3:55.The room was already half full — writers, producers, the graphics lead, a couple of PAs hovering near the back wall with tablets and anxious expressions.Ray was in the corner, arms folded, radiating the patient stoicism of a man who'd survived hundreds of these meetings and expected nothing from any of them.

Nelson walked in at exactly four o'clock.

He was in a black suit with a red tie.It was the wardrobe equivalent of a declaration of war, and every person in the room felt it.He carried a single sheet of paper — my lineup, I realized — a coffee cup, and nothing else.No laptop, no tablet, no phone.Just the paper and the absolute certainty that he was the most important person in any room he entered.

He sat at the head of the table without greeting anyone, placed the lineup flat in front of him, and smoothed it once with his palm — the way you smooth a tablecloth before setting it on fire.

"Mr.Goodman," he said, without looking up."Walk us through it."

Every eye in the room swiveled to me.I was standing at the far end of the table — a deliberate choice, because I wasn't going to sit at his end.But I also wasn't going to sit in the middle of the pack like a staffer.I was the EP.I'd earned the real estate.

"A-block: Supreme Court ruling on executive authority.We've got the oral arguments from this morning, two legal analysts booked — one conservative, one progressive — and a correspondent at the courthouse for the live standup.I want to open with audio from the chief justice's questioning, which was sharp enough to carry the top."

Nelson's eyes moved across the page.He said nothing.

"B-block: investigative package on defense-contractor lobbying.I rebuilt it from the research desk's original draft with two additional sources, including a former Pentagon procurement officer who's on the record.Four minutes, forty seconds."

"Four-forty is long for a B-block package," Nelson said.His voice was neutral.Clinical.A surgeon examining an X-ray.

"The sourcing justifies the length.Cut it to three minutes and we lose the procurement officer, and without him the package is just allegation and inference.With him, it's journalism."

A beat of silence.The writers were watching Nelson.The PAs were watching me.Ray was watching both of us with the quiet fascination of a man at a tennis match.

"Four-forty stays," Nelson said."If the sourcing holds."

I felt something loosen in my chest.I didn't let it show.

"C-block: live interview with a pharmaceutical-pricing whistleblower.Dr.Renata Vasquez, former VP of pricing strategy at Pinnacle Pharmaceuticals.She's on the record, she's prepped, and she's willing to name names."

This got a reaction.Not from Nelson — Nelson's face didn't change — but from the rest of the room.The writers exchanged glances.One of the PAs actually leaned forward.Even Ray uncrossed his arms.

"How did you get her?"Nelson asked.The question came at me with the laser focus of a man who knew whistleblowers didn't just fall into your lap.

"I called her."

"You called her."Nelson's left eye twitched.