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When he proceeded to tell me that whoever he married would have to accept that he played golf on SaturdaysandSundays without fail and that he would expect them to take care of the kids and visit his mom while he golfed, I noped right out of there.
I’m not sure he’s ever forgiven me for that.
The best thing about him becoming my boss – and maybe the only good thing – is that he gets to decide who does what broadcasts, and he usually nabs the evening one. Which means he comes into work in the afternoon and I only have to put up with him for a couple of hours.
I’ve noticed that Madison is coming in earlier and earlier so she can do the same.
“Hey,” I say, seeing them both in the office as I walk back from the lunchtime news. “You’re early,” I tell Michael, trying to not sound grumpy about it.
Michael lifts a brow. “We have a staff meeting in fifteen minutes.”
Oh yeah. I’d forgotten about that. It’s not a regular meeting. This one is to discuss our annual fundraiser. The WVFY Charity Auction and Ball. It’s the pet project of our owner, Donald Regan, and since it’s happening in two weeks he probably wants an update of where we’re at with all the plans.
Michael’s taking it very seriously this year because he’s been given the role of emcee for the auction. He hasn’t stopped talking about it.
I glance at Madison. “You want to grab some lunch to take into the meeting?” I ask her. At least we can dull the pain with calories.
“Yeah.” She jumps up way too enthusiastically, joining me at my desk as I grab my bag.
“Don’t be late,” Michael warns. “I don’t want the weather department getting a bad reputation.”
“Too late for that,” Madison mutters, low enough for him not to hear.
I bite down a smile. She’s definitely settling in.
We walk to the coffee shop at the front of the building and get in line. Ahead of us I see some of the Sports Desk team having the same idea. Nobody loves an all staff meeting.
“Can I talk to you about something?” Madison says, shifting her feet.
“Sure.”
“Michael wants to put me up for auction.”
I blink. “He wants to what?”
“That’s why he’s in early. Because he wanted to talk to me. He says I’m the youngest and the prettiest so I should represent the weather department. He wants to auction off a dinner date with me.” She frowns. “But I really don’t want to.”
Of course she doesn’t. The urge to punch Michael in the mouth comes over me. Until Kathleen left, we’d all take turns hosting the lucky winner in the weather department for the day. Showing them how we forecast, letting them watch us as we do the news, and then setting them up to have a go in front of the green screen.
It was easy, and sometimes fun. But Michael’s been muttering that we don’t have enough time to do that this year. He’s right, thanks to his terrible reorganization.
But to put our intern up for auction? That’s so seedy and ugh.
I know why he’s doing it. Because the news desk always does the same with their female anchor and they raise the most money every year. He’s competitive and he likes to beat all the other departments.
“You don’t have to do it,” I tell her.
“He was really insistent,” she tells me. “Said it would look good on my resume. And that my final report might depend on it.”
“It won’t,” I reassure her. “Leave it to me.”
“What will you do?” She looks up at me, hope in her eyes.
“I’ll do it.”
“You will?”
“Yep.” We reach the front of the line and I nod at Madison to give her order first. I give mine with a controlled voice, because I’m beyond annoyed at Michael. Not just because it’s sexist as hell in asking our young intern to go on a date with some rich businessman, but also because I’m supposed to be her boss, not him. I’m the one who does her reports and who will do the final one, too.
