mention on the toot. And not everyone is being
branded as the new, fresh face that will help this network regain its
reputation as the number one news outlet in this country!'
Rosie paused briefly to suck in enough breath to continue: 'You
know, I may have to publicise and defend you, I may even have to
bend the truth on your behalf, but I don't have to like you and I don't
have to take your shit. So enough with the comments and opinions
on subjects that are none of your damn business and get out of my
office. But before you go, listen to this and listen hard: last night
you made the mistake of taking medication with wine and sincerely
regret your actions. You get that? The network will back you but do
not think I can stop the real truth being written about you if you
continue to screw your career with behaviour like that. If you want
to do coke, then look for another job because I can tell you your hero
Big Keith Norman doesn't like coke, full stop. Zero tolerance. You
hearing me?'
'Geez, are you on the rag or what?' Graham said, though with a
little less bravado in his voice now.
'I'm not kidding, Graham. This job is hard enough without having
to wipe your arse.'
'I was just having a bit of fun and—'
'Yeah, well next time do it with your pregnant wife! Actually, that's
a good idea. Take her out Saturday and I'll tip off the Sunday papers.
You could certainly do with some positive press after last night.
I'll book somewhere expensive – she deserves it. We hired a family
man, you know, not a pantsman. Oh, and I'm upping your charity
commitments. Do you have a charity?'
'Yeah, young unwed mothers . . . It's a joke!'
'Great. Let's make it breast cancer then. Oh, and one other thing:
that woman you were so rude to just then signs both our cheques.
You'd better hope she's got a sense of humour because if I was her,
I'd rip up your contract right now. And I can tell you, I don't care
enough about this job not to kiss her feet if she did. Now piss off!'
Rosie watched as Hunt got up and walked out, stripped bare of his
swagger, then Lisa appeared at the door.
'It's your ex for you and he insists he won't be put on hold,' she
said.
'That son of a . . . Jeff can wait,' Rosie said, her rage like acid bile
in her throat. 'I don't think I could handle him after what just went
down with Hunt.'
'I heard it. I think the whole office did,' Lisa said. 'You really gave
it to him. I thought it was way cool.'
'Thanks,' Rosie laughed. 'On second thought, put Jeff through.
I've had a warm-up, so I'm ready for another bout.'
Moments later, line one on Rosie's phone lit up. 'Hi, Jeff, thanks a
lot for dropping our sick son back this morning without—'
'There you go again, whining already,' Jeff interrupted, clearly
agitated. 'Nice to talk to you too. You know, ever since you took that
stupid job you've been a first-class bitch and I am sick of you taking
it out on me and your son.'
Rosie wanted to cry. He was right, and she knew it.
'What do you want, Jeff?' she said, forcing back a sob.
'I just thought you should know before I tell Leon that I've asked
Heather to marry me and she's accepted.'
Jeff might have said more but Rosie didn't hear any of it. The phone
had dropped from her hand and she was staring at the wall in front
of her with tears rolling down her cheeks.
CHAPTER 7
Hesitating momentarily at the boardroom doors before going in to
the daily program meeting, Rosie braced herself, breathed in as much
air as her lungs could hold, then pushed at the wooden mass until
it heaved open. Even when I'm on time I can't win , she lamented to
herself as she surveyed the boys' club already assembled and preening
in each other's presence. It's like they're queuing for the best seats at the
Colosseum.
Closest to her was the head of sport, Russell Frazer. Russ loved
to think of himself as a macho man and a player like the sporting
celebrities he boasted as friends, and so he always sat beside the
network's own pantsman
branded as the new, fresh face that will help this network regain its
reputation as the number one news outlet in this country!'
Rosie paused briefly to suck in enough breath to continue: 'You
know, I may have to publicise and defend you, I may even have to
bend the truth on your behalf, but I don't have to like you and I don't
have to take your shit. So enough with the comments and opinions
on subjects that are none of your damn business and get out of my
office. But before you go, listen to this and listen hard: last night
you made the mistake of taking medication with wine and sincerely
regret your actions. You get that? The network will back you but do
not think I can stop the real truth being written about you if you
continue to screw your career with behaviour like that. If you want
to do coke, then look for another job because I can tell you your hero
Big Keith Norman doesn't like coke, full stop. Zero tolerance. You
hearing me?'
'Geez, are you on the rag or what?' Graham said, though with a
little less bravado in his voice now.
'I'm not kidding, Graham. This job is hard enough without having
to wipe your arse.'
'I was just having a bit of fun and—'
'Yeah, well next time do it with your pregnant wife! Actually, that's
a good idea. Take her out Saturday and I'll tip off the Sunday papers.
You could certainly do with some positive press after last night.
I'll book somewhere expensive – she deserves it. We hired a family
man, you know, not a pantsman. Oh, and I'm upping your charity
commitments. Do you have a charity?'
'Yeah, young unwed mothers . . . It's a joke!'
'Great. Let's make it breast cancer then. Oh, and one other thing:
that woman you were so rude to just then signs both our cheques.
You'd better hope she's got a sense of humour because if I was her,
I'd rip up your contract right now. And I can tell you, I don't care
enough about this job not to kiss her feet if she did. Now piss off!'
Rosie watched as Hunt got up and walked out, stripped bare of his
swagger, then Lisa appeared at the door.
'It's your ex for you and he insists he won't be put on hold,' she
said.
'That son of a . . . Jeff can wait,' Rosie said, her rage like acid bile
in her throat. 'I don't think I could handle him after what just went
down with Hunt.'
'I heard it. I think the whole office did,' Lisa said. 'You really gave
it to him. I thought it was way cool.'
'Thanks,' Rosie laughed. 'On second thought, put Jeff through.
I've had a warm-up, so I'm ready for another bout.'
Moments later, line one on Rosie's phone lit up. 'Hi, Jeff, thanks a
lot for dropping our sick son back this morning without—'
'There you go again, whining already,' Jeff interrupted, clearly
agitated. 'Nice to talk to you too. You know, ever since you took that
stupid job you've been a first-class bitch and I am sick of you taking
it out on me and your son.'
Rosie wanted to cry. He was right, and she knew it.
'What do you want, Jeff?' she said, forcing back a sob.
'I just thought you should know before I tell Leon that I've asked
Heather to marry me and she's accepted.'
Jeff might have said more but Rosie didn't hear any of it. The phone
had dropped from her hand and she was staring at the wall in front
of her with tears rolling down her cheeks.
CHAPTER 7
Hesitating momentarily at the boardroom doors before going in to
the daily program meeting, Rosie braced herself, breathed in as much
air as her lungs could hold, then pushed at the wooden mass until
it heaved open. Even when I'm on time I can't win , she lamented to
herself as she surveyed the boys' club already assembled and preening
in each other's presence. It's like they're queuing for the best seats at the
Colosseum.
Closest to her was the head of sport, Russell Frazer. Russ loved
to think of himself as a macho man and a player like the sporting
celebrities he boasted as friends, and so he always sat beside the
network's own pantsman
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