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No.
The agreement was that she would be paid on receipt of the article – ”
“So you didn’t pay her. She was, in effect, working for you for free, then,” Ryan said.
“No – we covered all her expenses – ”
“For a week!” I yelled.
“That’s still a lot of money!” Glen yelled back.
Ryan reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a checkbook. “If that’s the sticking point, we can take care of it right now. How much does she owe you?”
I looked over at him, horrified. “Ryan – no – ”
Ryan held up a hand to me again, but never looked away from Glen. “How much does she owe you?”
Glen looked at the checkbook, and I swear he licked his lips. You could see the wheels turning inside his head.
“Well… it was a lot… the plane ticket was last minute… the room at the Dubai, that was expensive…”
“Give me a number,” Ryan said.
“I would have to check to make it accurate…”
Ryan waved his hand. “Ballpark. Give me the upper range of what it might have been.”
Glen licked his lips again. “…ten thousand dollars.”
“BULLSHIT!” I yelled. “You know there’s no way on
earth
it was – ”
Ryan raised his hand again, and I quieted down.
“Ten thousand would definitely cover it?”
Glen hesitated. “…maybe. Twelve thousand would definitely cover it.”
“TWELVE THOUSAND DOLLARS?!”
I raged. “Jesus Christ – ”
“Kaitlyn,” Ryan said quietly, and I calmed down. It was like a fucking Jedi mind trick he had.
Then he turned back to Glen and started writing a check. “Who do I make it out to? Rolling Stone?”
“Actually… I had to front the money out of my own expense account, so… you can make it out to me.”
My mouth dropped open.
What the FUCK?!
This was an open-and-shut case of bribery. THIEVERY. Glen was a fucking, absolute asshole – an embezzler, a crook, a criminal!
“That seems highly irregular,” Ryan said mildly.
‘Highly irregular’ was like saying RuPaul in drag is a little bit gay.
“She’s not officially on the books,” Glen shot back. “So I had to get a little creative.”
Ryan paused from writing the check. “Wait… so you ‘hired’ a writer with little experience, didn’t pay her, and did some sort of expense account… ‘scheme’ to cover her expenses? Does
Rolling Stone
even know she’s working on this assignment?”
Glen took a long time to answer.
When he did, he gulped. “Not entirely, no.”
Whoa.
WHOA.
My world got rocked a little bit more.
Ryan cocked his head to the side. “So… they don’t know she’s working for you on this.”
“…not officially, no.”
Ryan glared at him like a wolf staring down a dog.
Glen shrank slowly behind his desk.
Then Ryan went back to writing the check. “What’s your last name, Glen?”
“Ryan, you can’t – ” I protested.
He held up a hand and turned his head far enough towards me so Glen couldn’t see him wink.
Trust me.
So I did.
