Page 39 of Wild King
“We’re open to anything, but, and this is a big but, before we agree to any interview, we’ll need to see some reporting on him that doesn’t involve those torches and pitchforks you mentioneda minute ago. I’ll be offering everyone the same deal. You know I like you, Curtis, so you’re first up. It just depends on who wants to be the first one to get that interview.”
“Just promise me you won’t go to Miss Thing with the Big Hair. I know she’ll promise you the moon and the stars, but don’t go with her. Okay?”
I can’t help but laugh at the name he insists on calling Jessica Marchand. A former colleague of his from back in his NBC days, she’s blown up a lot since she struck out on her own and got a deal to do four big interviews a year for Netflix. She loves to rave about how streaming is where it’s at, and for old school news guys like Curtis, that’s like a stab in the heart.
And she has had the same big hairdo since the nineties, which makes her look like one of those old time country western singers. So his nickname, which not complimentary, isn’t incorrect.
Glancing at my notes on the desk, I smile when I see her name on my list of people to call today. “She’s already inquired about Kellen being her summer interview,” I tell Curtis.
He groans and then lets out a heavy sigh. “Okay. I’ll see what I can arrange. Has she promised she’ll do some positive stories on him before her interview? Because I’m not seeing a lot of actual reporting out of her these days. She’s far too busy eating five hundred dollar steaks for dinners at wherever the newest hot spot in town is this week.”
“She will have to promise that if she wants to speak to him. Everybody gets the same deal. Now it’s just a matter of who comes through first. You know how to find me.”
“I do. How about lunch sometime this week?” he asks, back to being his usual pleasant self now that the shop talk is done.
“Are you asking as a friend?” I tease.
“Of course. You know me, Salem. We’ve been friends since you came to me right out of college with that idea for that story that got me a promotion. I still owe you.”
I roll my eyes at how he says that all the time. “No, you don’t.”
“I’ll be free later this week. What do you say we grab some bad food neither one of us should be eating and a few beers?”
The man knows how to tempt a woman. That’s for sure.
“If I can get away, I’d love to do lunch, even if it is bad for me. Text me and let me know when. And tell Siara I said hello.”
“Will do. Talk to you soon, and I’ll let you know if I get anyone to bite on your proposal.”
I end the call, happy to have spoken to my dear friend and pleased with what I’ve heard so far today. Jessica Marchand is next up to get my offer, but like Curtis, I’m not a huge fan of hers. Sure, Netflix will make a huge deal about the interview, but she has a nasty habit of being too sensational when she thinks she needs to. Since the ratings for her winter interview weren’t out of this world spectacular and her spring interview only moderately better, God only knows how desperate she is to have a great one happen for her this summer.
Happy to be making some headway on Kellen’s behalf, I stand up and stretch my arms over my head, feeling good as I remember I need to get back to working out. I haven’t done a single lunge or crunch since before I went to that resort.
That reminds me of that cantaloupe I saw in the refrigerator last night, so I head out to the kitchen to eat something healthy for the first time in over a week. Kellen is sitting at the island, and he turns to look at me with an expressionless stare when I walk into the room.
Fully expecting him at any moment to say something nasty or storm out in a huff, I brace myself for my feelings to be hurt. I’m surprised when he doesn’t make a move to leave. He doesn’tspeak to me or even give me a tiny smile he has to force, but he doesn’t hurry to get away either.
I cut up the cantaloupe on the cutting board over on the counter, and behind me he continues to eat a bowl of cereal. Part of me wants to turn around and make small talk because it feels like I should, but the other part remembers how cruel he was when he yelled the last time he spoke to me two weeks ago, so I say nothing.
He walks over to the sink and rinses out the bowl and spoon before putting them in the dishwasher. I can’t help but watch him, wondering if he’ll say anything, but he merely walks out of the room without speaking a word to me.
As I return to eating the cantaloupe, I think about how we were at the resort and find it amazing that we’re the same two people who don’t even speak to one another now. I may be making progress on my work to fix his reputation, but when it comes to the two us personally, that’s turned into an epic failure.
Oh, well. I can’t think about that.
When I finish my snack, I make my way back to my office to call my favorite private investigator. I think I need to know more about the woman who’s working hard to make Kellen King a social pariah for the rest of his life.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Kellen
Nearly a monthof ignoring the last woman I had sex with has been possibly the hardest thing I’ve had to do this year. At first, it was difficult because all I wanted to do was lash out at her for being part of the reason I’m trapped here in the middle of nowhere. Then when the desire to be cruel to her ebbed away, it dawned on me that I want to talk to her.
I just don’t know what to say after being a dick about everything for nearly that entire first week.
In addition, I think I’m going insane from boredom. I thought that might be the reason talking to her became so appealing to me again. I even tried to talk to the giant bodyguard, but he’s about as interesting as watching paint dry.
Memories of my time with her at the resort fill my head, and no matter how much I try to push them out and think of anything else, they always creep back in. That’s the problem with having a good time. It stays with you. When someone makes you smile and laugh and you feel more comfortable with them than you’ve ever felt with any other woman, it’s hard to forget them.