“We need a new item to close up the show. At this point I’ll take anything. A feature. A kicker. A piece about anything that’s not completely stupid. Brainstorm away.” I tapped my finger over the chrome conference table.
Everybody looked at their digital devices, typing text messages to their sources and generally being productive. Steve, however, sat with his arms crossed and sulked like a toddler in the midst of a tantrum.
“Got it! A pop star with an American passport was just murdered in a strip club in Korea.” Kate swung the door open and walked into the fishbowl meeting room, still staring at her phone.
“Steve, I know you like a good gossip. Can you follow that up?” Kate was already texting her source.
“Sure. North or South?” He scratched his head with the tip of his pen.
The silence that followed his question almost made my ears bleed. He thought there were strip clubs in North Korea?
That was it.
I was done.
“Out of my newsroom. Now.”
“But—”
“Another word, and you won’t be working anywhere on this street for the rest of your life.”
“I just—”
“Manhattan.”
“Mr. Laurent! I—”
“You’ve just been blacklisted in the entire city of New York.”
“Please!”
“Correction: state.”
“I didn’t…” Steve darted up from his chair with his arms stretched wide, looking left and right for support. Unfortunately for him, he’d managed to piss off my entire staff in the two months he’d been here.
“Steve, you are on the verge of metaphorical deportation. What’s not to understand? Get the hell out. Humphry, you’re replacing him as a slightly less junior reporter starting two minutes ago. And since Jessica is hard on the Wall Street item, you’re taking over the pop star coverage.”
The only thing I had in mind was to get someone with a functioning brain to write me the report, and fast, because all my reporters were drowning in work, and Steve obviously couldn’t scratch his own head without cutting it off. I didn’t favor her in any way because I wanted into her pants. I also knew she would die before getting ahead in the game by giving head.
Steve growled, throwing his hands in the air and stalking out of the conference room. He collected his crap from his station and dumped his employee card in the trash can by the door, which was technically against the company rules, but didn’t put a damper on the fact I’d finally gotten rid of him.
“Me?” Jude looked up, her green-brown-golden irises dilating. It was excitement, I think, and it made me so fucking hard I was surprised I didn’t tilt up my side of the table.
“Jessica will help you with whatever you need.”
Jessica nodded, squeezing Judith’s hand. “Of course. I’m here for you, JoJo.”
JoJo shot up from her seat. “I will not let you down, sir.”
I know, and hell if that doesn’t make me harder than an oak tree.
I was so used to people fucking up that having someone constantly step up their game was a disappointment in itself. She was the kind of good I’d only seen one person exhibit proudly. And that was Camille.
Fuck. Where did that come from?
“Back to work, everyone.” I collected my things and opened the glass door, motioning for people to leave. I expected Judith to do what they all did when I promoted them. Stop. Thank me. Melt into a puddle at my feet. Alas, Miss Humphry merely passed me on her way back to her station, not sparing me so much as a glance.
In a moment of madness, I decided to go the stupid route and touched her back ever-so-briefly. She turned around, cocking an eyebrow.
“Tomorrow. Lunch.” The room was empty, so why did it feel like I was suggesting I ravage her on James Townley’s desk during primetime, tinting her ass red with my open palm?
“I’ll be busy,” she said flatly.
“This will be a professional meeting regarding your new position.” Probably should have started with that. Idiot.
“And I will still be busy. Whatever you need from me, I am happy to talk about it right here, in the office. Now, I have an assignment to do. Will that be all, sir?”
I let her walk away, briefly wondering when the tables had turned. She’d started as a nameless dirty fuck, and had somehow dug her way out of that compromising position. The girl who’d stolen from me was now getting a promotion, getting me to do my own dry cleaning, and sassing back.
Yeah, I don’t think so.
Jude grabbed her phone and started dialing, already flipping her recorder on and connecting it to her cell.
“Hello, my name is Jude Humphry, and I’m a reporter at LBC’s Daily Newsnight. I’m calling about the unfortunate and untimely death of Sung Min Chae…”
I looked down, and I was still hard.
I think I’d changed my mind about Chucks after all.
She deserved a few more fucks before I stopped giving any about her.