Hey, great idea for cable… an entire networkwith older women and younger men.
But back to our regularly scheduled sexualencounter….
"In return you get to anchor in the numberone market in America."
He threw back the covers, grabbed hisunderwear from the ceiling fan blade, and started to get dressed."You've been leading me on."
"I've done no such thing, Scott. When Iinterviewed you I told you that if you wanted the job you shouldcome to my room."
"I thought you were attracted to me."
"I am, physically, but not in a romanticway."
The hurt in his eyes grew and he turnedaway. He finished getting dressed and started to head for the door.He stopped a few feet from it, picked his car keys off the dresserand turned to face me. "I want out of my contract," he said.
"Not gonna happen," I said.
"We'll see."
***
"So let me get this straight," said Jillianfrom the speakerphone. "Young man who has trouble spelling IQ isoffered a job anchoring in New York City. But wait! There's more!As an added bonus, he has to sleep with his hot redheaded boss oncea week. And there's a problem?"
"Apparently," I said, wishing they were inmy office instead of just voices on the weekly Thursday conferencecall.
It was Neely's turn. "Correct me if I'mwrong, but wouldn't most men jump at the chance for mind-alteringsex on a regular basis while bypassing the usual dinner andcourtship stuff?"
"Courtship? That still exists?" askedRica.
"In the South it does," said Neely, turningon the drawl. I could almost see the dreamy, faraway look in hereyes.
Rica laughed. "In Brooklyn, courtship's whena guy says, 'Meter's running. You wanna have sex, or what?'"
"Then most men are fromBrooklyn, 'cause that's what they want," said Jillian. "No holdingcar doors open, no cuddling, no 'so, whatare you thinking?' questions, justclean-out-the-pipes-air-out-the-brain-blast-furnace-sex with awoman who looks like she needs a bail bondsman and a publicdefender."
An image of a black leather miniskirt andred platform heels that Scott liked flashed through my brain alongwith a picture of a blast furnace blowing his hair out of place. Ishoved it to the back burner for later.
"And guys say women are hard ta figure out,"said Rica. "Fuhgeddaboudit."
"So what should I do?" I asked, looking atthe speaker like it was some sexual magic 8-ball.
"Screw him," said Rica.
"She'd like to keep doing that," saidNeely. I heard chuckles all around and couldn't help butsmile.
"You know what I meant," said Rica.
"So what's the situation this week?" askedJillian.
"He's not speaking to me," I said. "Thoughyesterday he went from brooding victim to looking like he's up tosomething."
"Think he'll show tomorrow night?" askedJillian.
"We'll find out soon enough," I said.
***
Actually the answer swatted the front doorof my townhouse around five in the morning on Friday. It arrived inthe form of a New York tabloid, complete with a front page pictureof Scott Harry and a headline that made my jaw hang open like atrophy bass.
Anchor Goes "Undercover" to Keep Job
Ho.
Lee.
Shit.
I dashed back inside the heavy oak frontdoor, slammed it, and pressed my back against it like I was hidingfrom a firing squad. Then I quickly unfolded the paper.
It got worse.
Cougar Boss Turns Scott Into Dirty Harry
By Cassandra West
Apparently the news business is no longercouched in secrecy.
It's simply a couch.
Of the casting variety.
That's the story from local anchor ScottHarry, who claims that he was hired by News Director Sydney Hack inreturn for sex. Harry adds that weekly trysts with his boss are arequirement should he wish to keep his job.
"I've spent every Friday night with Ms. Hackat her home since I was hired, and I only got the job aftersleeping with her," said Harry, who has pumped up ratings for thestation since his arrival but has grown tired of the arrangement."I recently asked to be released from my contract, but was toldthat providing sexual favors were part of my job description."
The attractive, copperhaired thirty-something Hack, known as both Neutron Syd or The Red Queen in the broadcastindustry, raised eyebrows when she hired twenty-nine year old Harryand paired him with middle-aged Caroline Jensen, creating what isoften referred to in journalistic circles as The Cougar Report. Curiously enough,the biggest ratings increase for the station occurs in themiddle-aged female demographic.
Hack could not be reached for comment.
"Yeah, you can't get a comment if you don'tpick up the damn phone," I said aloud.
Just as the phone rang.
***
It was so quiet I could hear my pumps crunchthe royal blue carpet that led to the CEO's office.
I could also hear my heart pounding in myhead as I opened the glass door to the reception area.
"Ah, Ms. Hack," said Kendra, the young Asianreceptionist who had been busy opening mail. "You're expected. Goright in."
"Thanks," I said.
Then Kendra did something I didn't expect tosee at a career wake.
She smiled at me.
Okay, I've never done anything to thiswoman. She can't possibly be happy that I'm getting fired.
I knocked softly, opened the heavy mahoganydoor and entered the executioner's den. Thankfully the CEO was onthe phone and I got a stay for a few minutes.
"Yes, thank you," said Madison Cartwright,the founder of the network. The slender forty-year-old blondesmiled at me and extended an open palm toward the chair in front ofher desk. I took a seat in the red leather chair and hung on to thearms for dear life as she continued the conversation. Her pale blueeyes matched her silk blouse, both lit up by the bright sunlightthat poured into the corner office through windows that offered aterrific view of the Chrysler. "Stroke of genius, if you ask me,"she said, twirling a slim silver pen in her long manicured fingers."She's here right now. I'll call you a little later." She hung up,brushed her shoulder length hair back and looked at me. "Sydney,I'm sorry I didn't get to meet with you Friday but I had a familyemergency." She slapped her hands face down on the desk. "All I cansay is that I sure never expected something like this fromyou."
"I'm really sorry, Madison," I said. "Ishould have--"
"Actually I'm glad you didn't tell mebecause I'm terrible at keeping secrets." She leaned
