I listened to the Keurig start up, relaxing as the smell of Hazelnut wafted my way. “I know, I’m pretty excited. When was the last time you met with him, Dave? I bet he gave you a really great story to cover. That one you did on the socialite who turned out to be adopted was really cutting-edge stuff.”
Dave’s attitude shifted at my not-so-subtle jab. “Don’t worry about me. I do just fine. You should worry about yourself. I hear your numbers aren’t that great.”
I picked up my steaming cup of delicious coffee and turned to him with a mock-frown. “Really? How so? You didn’t even remember my name just now. Also, I’m pretty sure looking up other colleague’s numbers is a big no-no.”
His gaze shifted to the two ladies who were staring at him with rapt attention, as if waiting for him to put me in my place, even though he was very clearly caught in a lie. “I have my ways,” he said.
“Interesting.” I took a sip of my steaming drink, never once breaking eye contact or flinching at the scalding liquid. “Well, then, have a good day, guys. I better get to work. Time is money.”
I left them behind, satisfied I didn’t give into his bait. Once in my cubicle, I started my computer and prepared myself for my meeting. Dave’s comments didn’t bother me. I was confident in what I had to present to Chris.
I knew the story I had to tell could seriously lead somewhere. I just needed the go ahead to do it.
Gang activity had always plagued New York City. It was a sad part of our lives that didn’t seem to be going away anytime soon. However, my thought was that if I could shine a bright light on the dark figures responsible, something could be done. At the very least, it would make it harder for them to do their business when everybody knew who they were. That was my hope, anyway.
My main goal, however, was far more personal. Underground NYC had so much potential to be more than a place for local gossip and click-bait. Maybe, if I could deliver a really sick, hard-hitting story, I could make some changes in my life, too. It would certainly force people to take me seriously as a reporter, and once that was achieved, I bet they would be willing to listen to my thoughts and suggestions.
2
April
Nine o’clock rolled around, and before I knew it, it was time for my meeting. I took a deep breath, mentally giving myself a final pep talk.
You got this.
You know how to get what you want.
Nobody’s going to stand in your way. Just go in there and don’t leave until he agrees to let you follow the lead.
I downed the last bit of my coffee, then grabbed my tablet and headed to Chris’s office. I could feel eyes on me as I walked, and when I glanced around, Dave was leaning back in his chair, watching my ass through narrowed eyes. I gave him a bright smile and wave just to piss him off. It seemed to work because he glared and went back to what he was doing.
The boss’s assistant, Bonnie, sat at her desk, looking as frazzled as ever. Her eyes were tired, and her graying hair was thrown up in a haphazard bun. I respected the hell out of her. She always seemed pissed off at the world, but honestly, she had every right to be. She was a single, middle-aged mother of three who worked way more than she should have to.
Chris constantly passed off work her way that he should handle himself, and though I had heard her talk about hiring on somebody else to help plenty of times, Chris seemed to be reluctant to dole out the extra money for a second assistant.
This left Bonnie to pick up all the slack.
I approached just as she got off the phone. “Hi, Bonnie,” I greeted her without the forced cheerfulness I used on Dave. I had a feeling it wouldn’t go over well with her. “I have an appointment with Chris at nine.”
Bonnie frowned, barely acknowledging me. She brought up his calendar on her battered old desktop that had seen better days. After a couple seconds of her clicking around, she finally looked at me. “I don’t have anything on his schedule.” Her tone was short and clipped.
My heart sank, but I was undeterred. I was afraid that would happen. There had been a few instances with other coworkers who swore up and down Chris said they could meet but then were turned away when they tried.
“Please check it again,” I insisted. “I spoke to him myself two days ago, and he set the time and date.”
Bonnie huffed with annoyance. “Looking again won’t change the fact that there’s nothing there. When did you speak to him?”
“When he was doing his rounds through the office and stopped at my cubicle. We talked for nearly ten minutes, and I explained I had a story lead I would like to run past him. He told me to come see him first thing Monday morning at nine.”
I could tell my story was one Bonnie had heard before, because she huffed again and reached for the phone. “He’s always doing this!” she hissed, not looking at me, pressing the button for his desk phone. “Heaven forbid he tell his assistant when he has a calendar change or makes an appointment himself.” She drummed her fingernails on the desk as she waited for him to answer. “Mr. Neamor? Your nine o’clock meeting is here to see you.”
Chris’s voice was so loud I could hear it booming over the phone. “What meeting? There’s nothing on my calendar.”
No. You’re not going to do to me what you’ve done to the others. I’m not gonna fall for that shit.
I leaned toward the phone, much to Bonnie’s dismay. “April Dawson, staff writer. You asked me to present my new story idea,” I said loudly into the receiver.
There was a pause. “Ohhh, yeah! Bonnie, send her in.”
Bonnie hung up and waved dismissively. “Go on then.”
“Thank you.” I smiled brightly, sweeping past her desk.
Chris Neamor was a stout man in his early sixties. He may have been considered handsome in his youth, but years of drinking had given him a beer gut. Smoking cigars provided yellow teeth and a gross cough. Even as I stepped into his office, I heard him hacking away.
While we were all forced into one large room with too many cubicles, he had a spacious office with a spectacular view of the street below. He sat behind a large mahogany desk that was so polished I could see my own reflection in it if I wanted to. I knew for a fact it was new, because it had been a whole thing having it delivered the previous week.
It seemed a bit excessive if I was being truthful here. He probably could have used the money from his fancy desk and gotten himself a second assistant instead.
“Come in, sit down.” He gestured to the chair across from his desk. “Sorry I didn’t put you on my calendar. I wasn’t expecting you to actually show up for the meeting.”
Huh? I took the offered seat, trying not to reveal how uncomfortable it was. The cushion was old and offered very little support. I lifted my gaze to his. “Why?”
“You haven’t before.”
I thought about all the times I tried to talk to him, and how I was blatantly ignored. The rounds he had made the other day had probably been some sort of power trip. One of our articles had gone viral, and I think he was trying to boast about it. I wanted so badly to call him out, to say that he was the one who wouldn’t give me the time of day, but I knew it wouldn’t help my case.