morning.'
Rosie flashed Hunt a murderous look. 'Well, now I know that it
was office gossip that stopped you making it to our meeting on time,
Graham,' she hissed, 'and I really can't understand what business
a Kennedys meeting is of yours. Surely you have enough on your
plate?'
'Oh for god's sake, loosen up, Toots. So I had a night out. You
were the one who invited all the journos. Tell me, is it true the Big
Man asked for a reach-around in front of everyone? If so, that is
fucking gold!'
It took everything Rosie had in her not to lurch over the desk and
grab Hunt by the throat. Instead, she had to play PR – yet again. If
Bettina Arthur got a sniff of any stench around Graham Hunt, she
could cause Keith lots of trouble.
'Don't let me hold you up, Bettina. I'll call you as soon as I'm
finished here,' she said without taking her eyes off Hunt.
She couldn't believe it when the cocky bastard piped up again:
'Look, I'm doing both you sheilas a favour when I tell you not to get
all hot and flushy about Big Keith. He's seen that many head office
carpet strollers try to bust his balls in the past with no luck. They're
made of steel, I tell you. People respect Keith and expect a bit of blue
in his company. He's the reason I moved to Six. The guy is the best.
So, my advice to both of you is just chill.'
Rosie saw the blood drain from Bettina's face, turning her kabuki
white, then watched as it returned, starting at her neck and slowly
filling her frozen visage with rage.
'Can I please enquire as to who you are?' Bettina said, carefully
and precisely, pausing between every word.
'I, sweet cheeks, am your new face of news, Graham Hunt.'
Graham's outstretched hand hung lonely in space for several
harrowing seconds before he slowly put it back down again.
'Graham, I really don't think that was the best of introductions,'
Rosie said, rising to place her body in between the pair, should
Bettina, as Rosie feared, suddenly attack. 'Graham, Bettina is from
head office and is here looking at budget cuts. Has your contract
gone through yet? If not, perhaps you might wish to apologise?'
'Oh, whoops, a bean counter,' Hunt replied, shifting nervously.
'No hard feelings, darl. You can take a joke, can't you? You'll need to
if you plan to stay around here, let me tell you.'
Bettina remained so silent and stiff that Rosie thought she might
topple like a bowling pin at any moment.
'Bettina, the network recently secured Graham from Network
Three and, as such, we're putting a lot of promotion and support
behind him as we rebrand our news with his face. Unfortunately,'
Rosie continued, flashing Graham a cool stare, 'last night we had a
dinner with the media that got a little out of hand, resulting in some
negative press which Graham and I need to arrest right now. Don't
we, Graham?'
'It's all bullshit,' Graham said cockily, winking at Rosie. 'Well, not
all of it.'
'I shall leave you both then,' Bettina said icily. 'However, I would
appreciate talking to you as soon as you can manage, Rose.'
'Of course, Bettina. Let's try for a coffee before the programming
meeting at two. In the meantime, I'm sure you'll understand, I really
need to have a chat with Mr Hunt here.'
'Yes, I understand. Goodbye, Mr Hunt. It was very interesting to
meet you.'
'Look, about last night,' Hunt said when Bettina was out of earshot.
He sat down spread-legged on the cream leather chair beside him.
'Okay, I fucked up. I like a bit of play-up every now and again. This'll
all blow over. I'm hardly different from anyone else in Sydney.'
Rosie'd had enough. 'Okay, listen here, you arrogant little brat,'
she spat. 'Not everyone in Sydney is paid millions of dollars to read
lines off an autocue for half an hour a night. And not everyone else
in Sydney notifies the viewers of events that could change their lives
forever. And not everyone in Sydney has a pregnant wife waiting at
home while they're out with other women – in front of journalists,
for god's sake, not to
Rosie flashed Hunt a murderous look. 'Well, now I know that it
was office gossip that stopped you making it to our meeting on time,
Graham,' she hissed, 'and I really can't understand what business
a Kennedys meeting is of yours. Surely you have enough on your
plate?'
'Oh for god's sake, loosen up, Toots. So I had a night out. You
were the one who invited all the journos. Tell me, is it true the Big
Man asked for a reach-around in front of everyone? If so, that is
fucking gold!'
It took everything Rosie had in her not to lurch over the desk and
grab Hunt by the throat. Instead, she had to play PR – yet again. If
Bettina Arthur got a sniff of any stench around Graham Hunt, she
could cause Keith lots of trouble.
'Don't let me hold you up, Bettina. I'll call you as soon as I'm
finished here,' she said without taking her eyes off Hunt.
She couldn't believe it when the cocky bastard piped up again:
'Look, I'm doing both you sheilas a favour when I tell you not to get
all hot and flushy about Big Keith. He's seen that many head office
carpet strollers try to bust his balls in the past with no luck. They're
made of steel, I tell you. People respect Keith and expect a bit of blue
in his company. He's the reason I moved to Six. The guy is the best.
So, my advice to both of you is just chill.'
Rosie saw the blood drain from Bettina's face, turning her kabuki
white, then watched as it returned, starting at her neck and slowly
filling her frozen visage with rage.
'Can I please enquire as to who you are?' Bettina said, carefully
and precisely, pausing between every word.
'I, sweet cheeks, am your new face of news, Graham Hunt.'
Graham's outstretched hand hung lonely in space for several
harrowing seconds before he slowly put it back down again.
'Graham, I really don't think that was the best of introductions,'
Rosie said, rising to place her body in between the pair, should
Bettina, as Rosie feared, suddenly attack. 'Graham, Bettina is from
head office and is here looking at budget cuts. Has your contract
gone through yet? If not, perhaps you might wish to apologise?'
'Oh, whoops, a bean counter,' Hunt replied, shifting nervously.
'No hard feelings, darl. You can take a joke, can't you? You'll need to
if you plan to stay around here, let me tell you.'
Bettina remained so silent and stiff that Rosie thought she might
topple like a bowling pin at any moment.
'Bettina, the network recently secured Graham from Network
Three and, as such, we're putting a lot of promotion and support
behind him as we rebrand our news with his face. Unfortunately,'
Rosie continued, flashing Graham a cool stare, 'last night we had a
dinner with the media that got a little out of hand, resulting in some
negative press which Graham and I need to arrest right now. Don't
we, Graham?'
'It's all bullshit,' Graham said cockily, winking at Rosie. 'Well, not
all of it.'
'I shall leave you both then,' Bettina said icily. 'However, I would
appreciate talking to you as soon as you can manage, Rose.'
'Of course, Bettina. Let's try for a coffee before the programming
meeting at two. In the meantime, I'm sure you'll understand, I really
need to have a chat with Mr Hunt here.'
'Yes, I understand. Goodbye, Mr Hunt. It was very interesting to
meet you.'
'Look, about last night,' Hunt said when Bettina was out of earshot.
He sat down spread-legged on the cream leather chair beside him.
'Okay, I fucked up. I like a bit of play-up every now and again. This'll
all blow over. I'm hardly different from anyone else in Sydney.'
Rosie'd had enough. 'Okay, listen here, you arrogant little brat,'
she spat. 'Not everyone in Sydney is paid millions of dollars to read
lines off an autocue for half an hour a night. And not everyone else
in Sydney notifies the viewers of events that could change their lives
forever. And not everyone in Sydney has a pregnant wife waiting at
home while they're out with other women – in front of journalists,
for god's sake, not to
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