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I slap the contract unceremoniously on the table and drop into my seat. She’s getting to me. Already. Like any reporter would. They’re the lowest of the low. I can’t wait to crush her. The thought fuels me as she pulls the contract toward her and gives me a strange look.
“Go ahead,” I say. “Take your time.”
I intend to enjoy this.
7
Callie
The contract is long, so I skip past the boilerplate and look for juicy details.
“I’m on call twenty-four hours a day?”
“Seven days a week.”
Asshole. The stare he gives me is unyielding. I’m going to have to pick my battles with this one. I keep scanning. Compensation is listed as a lump sum at the end of the term. The amount to be filled in.
“You’re not paying me?”
“No. You’re getting the lump sum. That’s enough.”
I keep my face impassive but my stomach sinks. This might actually be an issue. I have a little left in my personal account, but I won’t be able to take many photos while I’m here. Ad income pays our rent, but those photos pay for everything else. I chew my lip. Jonah’s face is hard, his eyes chips of black ice. I’m playing at being a negotiator, but I’m so far out of my depth that I can’t even see the surface.
“Can I fill in the lump sum?” I want it in writing before I start asking for things.
“Go ahead.”
My hands shake slightly as I write. One million dollars. Pocket change to him. Everything to me.
“Conditions, Ms. Thompson?” I can practically hear him rubbing his hands together. He loves this.
I lift my chin. “I want my paper back.”
His eyes flare. “And why would I do that? I’m paying a million dollars for it, after all.”
“No. You’re paying a million dollars to humiliate me.”
He almost smiles. Bastard. “One year. One year of working for me, and you can have your paper back.”
One year with this asshole? No way. Not even for the Star. “One month.”
He laughs, and my insides flutter. I dig my fingernails into my palm. If I’m going to work for him, I need to stop noticing how handsome he is.
“Bold.” He cocks his head, a ghost of a smile still on his face. “Six months. And you can’t quit. If you quit, I get the paper. If you get fired for cause, I get the paper.”
“Define cause,” I say flatly.
“You’ll see it in the contract. But generally speaking, it means no disparaging the company, no breaches of confidentiality, no egregious behavior.”
Egregious behavior will not be an issue. And I can avoid disparaging him. But breaches of confidentiality will be tricky. I need to be able to run the Star while I work for him, or we’ll lose all our readers.
“I need to be able to publish articles while I’m here.”
“Really, Ms. Thompson? You think you’ll have time for that? Whatever will the people do without their pizza rat videos?”
My face flames at his words. “Our paper is more than that. It’s a lifeline for a lot of people. There are residents who rely on us.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.”
