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I needed to do some weight lifting to tone my arms, but who had the time? Maybe when days suddenly contained 25 hours, then I’d find some time to slip that into the schedule. God, I hated working out. I was more interested in shopping for cute workout clothes than working out in them.
“Jack has always valued my opinion, so he has agreed to consider you for the job.”
She delivered the news in such an off-hand manner that I just sat open-mouthed and stunned.
One side of her mouth quirked upwards. “You’ve been working so hard, you deserve a shot at this.”
“Is that wise?” I tried to hold back my doubts, but I couldn’t. “Given my circumstances, I mean. I’ve been more behind the scenes here on purpose—“
She held up a hand to stop me. “Have there been any more threats?”
I shook my head. “Not since two years ago.”
“See?” She raised her brows. “I did discuss that aspect of it with Jack. We’ve done some test runs, putting you on some high-profile pieces like the exclusive interview with Grayson Durant and we haven’t received any blowback. Jack has his finger on the pulse of the industry; he’d know if this was going to be a problem. In fact, he thinks your—shall we call them ‘detractors’—would be happier to see you in plain sight, reporting on entertainment news, rather than wondering what you were up to.”
It made sense in a twisted sort of way. And there was no way Mr. Hoffman would take a chance on me if he thought I’d be a liability to the company. Maybe it was time to let my past go and put it all behind me.
Nearly ten years ago, I left Northwestern University a naïve young girl, ready to take on the world and make it a better place through investigative journalism. Only a few years into my job at a prestigious national newspaper, I attempted to break the biggest political scandal to hit in years.
Originally, I received an anonymous tip that pointed me to dig in a certain direction regarding a sitting U.S. Senator. It took me ten months to gather all the information I needed to take this despicable man down. Even after I was warned, not so gently, to back off over and over, I pursued leads until I had an airtight case against him.
The accusations were salacious. Charges of sexual assault, kinky sex, a secret child with an alleged Chinese spy, and liberal use of the so-called taxpayer-funded sexual assault hush fund being paid out to actual enemies of the state to keep it all quiet.
I had publicly available financial records, corroborating communication through FOIA requests, and unimpeachable witnesses. I had the receipts. It was there, almost right out in the open, but no one had the balls to go after this guy.
God, I look back in pity on my young, stupid self. Yes, even before the term ‘fake news’ was being bandied about, I knew that ideological partisanship ran rampant in the newsrooms. Hell, my journalism professors actually celebrated it, so seeing it out in the real world was not a shocking revelation to me.
In my naivety, I thought this particular politician had the correct letter next to his name so that I’d be championed as a hero for bringing him down. It was a hard lesson to learn, but some politicians were untouchable. At the top, there weren’t two sides. They were all on the same team; it didn’t matter if there was a D or R next to their name.
The prestigious newspaper I worked for would not touch the story with a ten-foot pole. Instead, I was demoted for my efforts. Same workload, lower rank, less pay.
In a fit of righteous ambition, I published all the material online exposing the Senator for all the world to see and judge.
The retribution that rained down on me was swift and severe. I was chewed up and spit out in a brutal fashion. Fired. Blacklisted everywhere, even from supposed independent papers and networks. No one would even talk to me. It was career suicide. I was told in no uncertain terms that no one bounced back from that.
What happened to the dirty Senator? Nothing. All the proof I’d collected was ‘disappeared’. Destroyed. Wiped clean. My accusations hadn’t even been a blip on his radar. He was still a member of the Senate to this day and was currently chairman of one of the most powerful Senate Committees. My work had absolutely no effect on the blatant corruption, but I’d destroyed my career.
It had been my red-pill moment — when my ideals were crushed and my eyes opened. I was forced to move back home with my mom, where I tried to start my own informational news site, reporting only on ‘approved’ stories under a pen name. I was constantly attacked by bots, shut down, canceled, and sent death threats.
So, I finally gave up. I worked menial jobs for almost a year until my mom remembered she had an old friend named Caroline who worked at Hollywood Exposé. Luckily, Caroline took a chance and hired me, knowing the whole sordid story. I packed up and moved to L.A. That was nearly five years ago.
It was no wonder I was a little hesitant to rock the boat now.
I swallowed nervously. “When is the decision going to be made? Can I do anything to convince Mr. Hoffman I’m the right choice?”
Caroline beamed at me. “Here’s the exciting part: there’s going to be a competition between you and Dawn. The winner will be taking over Mindy’s position.”
My nose crunched in confusion. “Competition?”
“You’re each getting a long-term assignment with full creative control. You’ll each have to develop a print piece and an online campaign dedicated to your subject to highlight a two-block slot during prime-time TV. It’ll be a ton of exposure, so I hope you’re ready.”
“Wow.” I was stunned. “That’s huge. What are the timelines? What resources am I going to have?”
She pursed her lips in thought. “We haven’t ironed out all the details yet. We’re being very careful to make sure neither of you gets an unfair advantage. The budget, resources, and timelines will all be identical. Right now, we’re thinking of four months to get the project completed. You’ll only have the bare minimum of help, maybe a limited amount of hours with a camera operator, editor, and photographer each, because we want to see what you can do on your own.”
Was I ready for this kind of pressure? This was a gigantic project. I’d done all of it in pieces for various projects, but never put it all together in one cohesive package. “What’s the subject I’ll be reporting on?”
Caroline grimaced. “Jack picked the subjects for each of you. He has a file of hundreds of story pitches that he’s kept sitting on the back burner. He pulled out two that he felt were intriguing and topical.”
