subterranean. And he spent so much time in it that some wondered if he could no longer afford a house.
Melissa decided to take the initiative.
“Loudon, I’d like some extra time to work on a new investigation.”
“Extra time? Take all you want.”
“Not my personal time. You know what I mean. I want time off Ella duty.” Part of her job as “special news projects producer” was to create showcase reports for Ella. She would research them, do the interviews, write the pieces, produce them, then drag Ella out for an hour to shoot standups that could then be inserted into the finished story.
“What’s the story? Can we use it for November sweeps?”
“I’m not sure yet. It’s a tip from a kid in foster care, and it’s going to take some time to confirm. It may end up being nothing. Or it could blow up the whole foster care system.”
“Blow up foster care,” said Loudon with deep gloom. He reached for the jumbo-size bottle of pastel antacids he kept at his elbow.
“Exactly.”
“Ella doesn’t like stories with bad guys.”
“I know.”
“Channel Six is supposed to be the Sunny Side of the News.”
“I know. But this could be a really important story that could save children from abuse.”
He blinked wearily at her. “You’re a pain in my fat arse.”
“I’m really sorry. And you look like you’ve lost a few pounds.”
“Fine. No Ella this week.”
“You’re a champ, boss.” She gave him a glorious smile. What a difference to have an open, easy, work-only relationship with her boss. In Los Angeles, every time she’d stepped into Everett’s office her pulse had raced and her heart had pounded.
“On one condition.”
Of course there would be a catch. “What?”
“Heard you went on a date last night.”
Melissa’s jaw dropped. That was the last thing she’d expected him to say. “What . . . how . . .”
“I have my sources.”
For one wild moment, Melissa imagined their sixty-year-old waitress slipping off to report a hot tip to Loudon, like some kind of secret agent.
“Does this new development in your love life mean you’ll have an in with the Bachelor Firemen of San Gabriel?”
“The what ?” Maybe all the light waves from the ten TV sets in his office had disrupted his brain function. But Loudon gazed at her expectantly, as if his words made some kind of sense. “What are you talking about?”
“That’s right, you were in LA being a big shot. Our local fire station is famous. Even made the Today show. The whole crew was in People magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive issue. It’s the only all-bachelor fire station in the country. Or almost all. And apparently they’re good-looking too. Hell if I know.”
Melissa put a hand to her head. Captain Brody was famous? The whole station was? And she’d spent the evening alternately yelling at him and French-kissing him?
“They had that big media blitz a couple years ago, then nothing. Apparently the captain shut it down. Won’t give interviews anymore. Except about fires, of course.”
Melissa remembered Brody’s scathing comments about the news—in fact, how could she forget them? Except now they made a little more sense. “So why are you telling me all this?”
“You know.” Loudon gave her a half wink that, with his droopy eyes, looked more like a leer.
“I really don’t.”
“Sure would be good for ratings to get those Bachelor Firemen back on the air. Why, with ratings like that, we could afford all kinds of investigations into foster care. Throw in the health department too. FDA, FDIC, whatever you like.”
You’re a twisted, loathsome man . Melissa had to double check to make sure she hadn’t said that out loud. Obviously his sources weren’t all that good, if they thought there was any chance she and Brody would go out again. But she saw no need to explain all that to Loudon, who blinked at her in the flickering blue light.
“I’ll . . . uh . . . do what I can. In between
Melissa decided to take the initiative.
“Loudon, I’d like some extra time to work on a new investigation.”
“Extra time? Take all you want.”
“Not my personal time. You know what I mean. I want time off Ella duty.” Part of her job as “special news projects producer” was to create showcase reports for Ella. She would research them, do the interviews, write the pieces, produce them, then drag Ella out for an hour to shoot standups that could then be inserted into the finished story.
“What’s the story? Can we use it for November sweeps?”
“I’m not sure yet. It’s a tip from a kid in foster care, and it’s going to take some time to confirm. It may end up being nothing. Or it could blow up the whole foster care system.”
“Blow up foster care,” said Loudon with deep gloom. He reached for the jumbo-size bottle of pastel antacids he kept at his elbow.
“Exactly.”
“Ella doesn’t like stories with bad guys.”
“I know.”
“Channel Six is supposed to be the Sunny Side of the News.”
“I know. But this could be a really important story that could save children from abuse.”
He blinked wearily at her. “You’re a pain in my fat arse.”
“I’m really sorry. And you look like you’ve lost a few pounds.”
“Fine. No Ella this week.”
“You’re a champ, boss.” She gave him a glorious smile. What a difference to have an open, easy, work-only relationship with her boss. In Los Angeles, every time she’d stepped into Everett’s office her pulse had raced and her heart had pounded.
“On one condition.”
Of course there would be a catch. “What?”
“Heard you went on a date last night.”
Melissa’s jaw dropped. That was the last thing she’d expected him to say. “What . . . how . . .”
“I have my sources.”
For one wild moment, Melissa imagined their sixty-year-old waitress slipping off to report a hot tip to Loudon, like some kind of secret agent.
“Does this new development in your love life mean you’ll have an in with the Bachelor Firemen of San Gabriel?”
“The what ?” Maybe all the light waves from the ten TV sets in his office had disrupted his brain function. But Loudon gazed at her expectantly, as if his words made some kind of sense. “What are you talking about?”
“That’s right, you were in LA being a big shot. Our local fire station is famous. Even made the Today show. The whole crew was in People magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive issue. It’s the only all-bachelor fire station in the country. Or almost all. And apparently they’re good-looking too. Hell if I know.”
Melissa put a hand to her head. Captain Brody was famous? The whole station was? And she’d spent the evening alternately yelling at him and French-kissing him?
“They had that big media blitz a couple years ago, then nothing. Apparently the captain shut it down. Won’t give interviews anymore. Except about fires, of course.”
Melissa remembered Brody’s scathing comments about the news—in fact, how could she forget them? Except now they made a little more sense. “So why are you telling me all this?”
“You know.” Loudon gave her a half wink that, with his droopy eyes, looked more like a leer.
“I really don’t.”
“Sure would be good for ratings to get those Bachelor Firemen back on the air. Why, with ratings like that, we could afford all kinds of investigations into foster care. Throw in the health department too. FDA, FDIC, whatever you like.”
You’re a twisted, loathsome man . Melissa had to double check to make sure she hadn’t said that out loud. Obviously his sources weren’t all that good, if they thought there was any chance she and Brody would go out again. But she saw no need to explain all that to Loudon, who blinked at her in the flickering blue light.
“I’ll . . . uh . . . do what I can. In between
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