Blaze (65 page)

Miche continued to clear out Larissa's office and was busily packing books and folders and the personal photos and knick-knacks off the desk. She was kneeling on the floor, securely taping up a carton, and didn't notice the soft step behind her until a heavy hand slapped her on the bottom.

‘Howdy! Need a hand? Ha ha.'

Miche recoiled and turned to see Reg Craven standing over her. She began to scramble to her feet when he leaned down and ‘helped' her by grabbing her upper arm, his fingers pushing against her breast.

‘Oops-a-daisy,' he leered, his boozy breath radiating into her face.

Miche slapped his hand away. ‘Do you mind!'

‘Nope. Do you?'

He was still smirking and was obviously drunk. Miche took a step backwards and glared at him. ‘Did you want to speak to Larissa?'

He glanced around the disordered office. ‘What's going on? She moving? Are you moving in, babe? Be great to have a bit of young blood in the place. Too many uptight chooks around here.' He took a step towards her and Miche pushed an arm in front of her.

‘Stop right there and keep your hands to yourself.'

He froze and lifted his arms above his head in mock surrender. ‘Hey, girlie, don't be paranoid. Ole Reggie is only trying to be a gent.'

‘You'll have to try a lot harder,' snapped Miche. ‘I suggest you come back later.'

He looked at her furious face and backed down. Without a word, he wandered out of the office.

Miche expelled her breath – the encounter had shaken her. The thought of having to deal with office politics and men like Reg Craven depressed her.

Reg was not concerned about the incident with Miche. Can't blame a bloke for trying, right? After returning to his office, his attention wandered, so he sauntered down the hall and stopped at an office and leered again. ‘Hey babe, what's up?'

It was April's office and she didn't look amused. ‘Don't call me babe, Reg. I'm not one of your lunchtime bimbos. Why are you strolling the halls? Looking for a quick grope?'

‘Tacky, my dear. I've heard you've been seen in a few less than salubrious hang-outs.' His voice slurred on the last words. He ventured into the office.

April, who'd been standing next to her desk, perched on its corner crossing her legs and giving him a challenging look. ‘What's that mean? I doubt you and I frequent the same places.'

‘A little dicky bird told me they saw you coming out of a strip joint in the back of Oxford Street in the wee hours. Don't tell me that was a party you were covering for
Blaze
.'

‘Did they tell you I was with Jacques and Tony? There's a lot that goes on around here that you don't know about, Reg. You're a little old for the fun.'

The zinger stung him more than April knew. The anger Reg harboured towards Ali hadn't been assuaged by his late-night strike on the sandpit. He was feeling alienated and he knew the ground was shifting beneath him. April's arrogant, impudent amusement suddenly annoyed him and, in an unplanned move, he lunged at her, ramming his hand up her skirt, ‘I'll show you, bitch . . .'

April was knocked off balance and stumbled to her knees on the floor and Reg lurched backwards as if burned, his staring face drained of colour, his mouth trying to make words that wouldn't form. Then, as he turned to the door, he found it blocked by his nemesis.

Ali raised her eyebrows. ‘Do I dare ask what the hell is going on?'

As April and Reg struggled to regain their composure, each waited for the other to decry or shout abuse. Strangely both were silent.

April was first to recover. She straightened her shoulders in a shrug and smoothed her micro skirt. ‘I slipped off the desk.'

‘We were having . . . a disagreement. Nothing to do with you, Ali.' Reg gave April a hard look, but she didn't respond.

Ali folded her arms. ‘Any harassment of my staff is my business, Reg, thank you very much.'

Reg pushed past her. ‘Ah, get fucked, Ali.'

Ali glared, but let him go. She turned back to April.

‘Want to tell me about it?'

‘No.'

‘The man's a pig. Don't worry about it.'

Ali left and went to her office where Larissa was waiting.

 

M
orris Brown, the general manager of Network Five had agreed to see Heather Race privately. He'd considered including the station's lawyers, but they were currently busy on a case before the Broadcasting Tribunal for breaches of the advertising code.

For a wild moment he'd hoped she was coming to see him to resign, she was such a headache. There'd been more threatened lawsuits and complaints over her stories than the rest of the reporters put together. However, this last contretemps over the
Blaze
magazine article had boosted the ratings of
Reality
. People loved to watch people they hated. The next morning, after a Heather Race interview, people would gather around the water coolers to trash what she'd done. ‘Did you hear what that bitch said?' they'd say. ‘She's outrageous. That show is the pits.' But they all watched it.

As Heather was shown into his lavish office, Morris Brown rose from his executive chair and crossed the room to shake her hand. She spoke first with a bright, ‘I haven't come to resign.'

‘I should hope not,' smiled her boss, waving her to the smaller of the two sofas. ‘The show is rating well.'

‘Yeah, thanks to that bitch, April Showers. Where are we at with the defamation case, by the way?'

‘They're still weighing it up. While we want to redress the issue of a quite unnecessarily vicious article, we have to make sure we're on firm legal ground before taking action. Or it could be very costly.' He paused, wondering how he might broach his next point and this seemed a good opportunity. ‘The legal team were wondering if the publicity about the case and your feelings of outrage, which have been expressed in the media, might have already put your side of the story in balance without pressing any further. They would prefer a settlement or an apology, but
Blaze
is only going to agree to that if they feel they're in the wrong. And I understand from the
Blaze
lawyers that Miss Showers thinks she is very much in the right.' When Heather didn't answer he continued, ‘How do you feel about it all? And what specifically did you want to see me about?'

Heather gave a small smile that was more of a smirk. ‘About April Showers, actually. I have a way of settling this whole thing for far less money and in a way that will be to the station's advantage. And it will keep me happy too.'

‘I'm all ears, my dear.'

Heather recrossed her legs, flashing an expanse of thigh at the general manager who was trying to remain aloof and businesslike and forget the drunken Christmas lunch in the boardroom the previous year.

Heather leaned forward, lowering her voice. ‘I want revenge on Showers for that bitchy story. So I have a promise of a story about April Showers that would blow her to bits. The source is excellent, but there is, of course, a price.'

‘How reliable is the information, how true is it, and how much?' he sighed.

Heather ticked the points off on her fingers. ‘One. The source is an old friend of April's who says he knows every detail of this part of her life intimately. Two. I believe him because he wouldn't be so keen to make it public and ask for what he wants and not have the goods. Three. The asking price is a job. In television. Here. On camera.'

‘Oh Christ, no way. We can't throw amateurs in front of a camera.'

Heather raised a sceptical eyebrow and Morris Brown knew he'd made a silly remark. Half of their shows were stacked with first-time presenters. Some were talented, others were made to look good, some were pretty awful, but they hung on for various reasons. ‘This guy could work out. He's gay, he's funny, he has a sharp wit and an even sharper tongue and he's a bit of a performer.'

‘And he wants to be on TV so badly he'd ruin a friendship with an old pal?'

‘You bet.'

‘So what's the story on April Showers?'

‘He won't tell me till he has an assurance of a job here.'

‘We can say the same to him.' Then, seeing Heather's face set, he capitulated. ‘Let's make it a provisional agreement that if what he has is strong enough to blow April Showers out of the water and drop the case against us, we'll give him a three-month contract.'

‘Six.'

‘Okay, six months.' If the guy didn't cut it on camera, they could pay him out the six months and see him off the station. ‘So tell me who I've just hired, for God's sake.'

‘Eddie Kurtz. He's a creative advertising–marketing whiz-kid.'

‘Who wants to do what? Sing? Tap dance?' Morris was weary. He wanted Heather out of his office.

‘Talk. Do a bitch April Showers gossip segment. She has been angling to find a spot on TV and it would kill her to have Eddie achieve it. It could actually work well on
Reality
as an end segment. People would hang out through the whole show for it. I think he has what it takes.'

‘That's up to your executive producer. Firstly, how are you going to release this bombshell about April? Leak it to what paper? Whoever wins it will owe us a favour after this. Unless April Showers sues them.'

‘We're not. Going to release it, I mean,' said Heather mildly. ‘Apparently it's so hot, as soon as I threaten April with what I know she'll run for cover. You watch.'

‘I'm not so sure. She was pretty ballsy writing what she did about you.'

‘If she doesn't give me an apology, we go public with it. What I really want is to knock her off her arrogant perch. As long as she knows I have the goods on her, I'm in a very strong position of win–win–win,' said Heather smoothly.

Morris Brown stood up. ‘I'll await the good news from our lawyers that you're saving us the trouble of a lawsuit against April Showers and
Blaze
. And this conversation hasn't taken place.' He went back to his desk.

Heather stood. At the door, she turned back to him. ‘You won't regret this Morris.'

‘I regret a lot of things,' he said in a tired voice. ‘Sometimes, hiring you was one of them.'

‘I still have eighteen months on my contract to go,' smiled Heather. ‘We'll talk then.' She closed the door behind her with a confident yank.

*

Although Larissa was determined and sure about her decision to leave, the short walk to Ali's office felt like a marathon. With every step came a flood of images and sounds. A high-speed replay of moments in her career at
Blaze
. Not all were positive, but even the down moments were memorable. The pressures, the creative disagreements, the occasional disappointments had drawn them together, learning from mistakes and failures, testing imagination and wits for the next issue. Australia had been a highlight and while there was still disappointment that she hadn't made it to editor, she knew she had done her best at all times.

She was brought back to the moment by Belinda who put her finger to her lips and nodded over her shoulder to show that Ali was on the phone.

Ali's rapid-fire conversation ricocheted towards Larissa as Ali waved her to come in and sit down. ‘Sure, it's a departure from what readers expect to find in
Blaze
. But the day we become predictable and safe, we're doomed.' Ali paused and rolled her eyes towards the ceiling indicating it was someone from the male management above them. ‘You're entitled to make the point, but I'm the editor and I make editorial decisions. And I've decided to shunt April into this new tack. If you've got a problem, take it up with Nina when she returns. I've already run it past Baron Triton,' she added pointedly. ‘End of story.' She hung up.

‘Upstairs giving you a hard time?' asked Larissa.

‘Yeah, trying to justify their existence. I think the TV network boys, who are part of the same club, have told our boys to give April a hard time. Want her to back off or give her the boot. At least they tell me the network has dropped the case against us. Now . . .' she began rifling on her desk as Larissa wondered how to start the conversation. Before she could open her mouth, Ali pushed a sheet towards her. ‘Here. April sent in some more profile ideas. See what you think of them.'

‘I don't think so, Ali.'

Ali lifted her head. ‘Excuse me? What are you saying?'

‘I'm quitting.'

‘You're quitting?' Ali didn't believe what she was hearing.

‘Yes, Ali. As of now. It's a personal thing. I've been struggling with a deep personal issue for some time and at last I realise I have to confront it right now. Make a hard decision. So I've decided to go back to the States. To Gerard.'

‘The boyfriend? You're walking out on your contract, giving up a job for your boyfriend?' Ali sounded incredulous. ‘Surely you're not going back to
Blaze USA
?' For a fearful moment Ali hoped Larissa hadn't been offered a job back in New York that might do her out of an opportunity. No, Oscar would have mentioned it.

Larissa shook her head. ‘Another reason. It's complicated. Gerry is moving interstate from New York. I'm going to marry him.' She gave a small smile. ‘It's come down to the female's dilemma – marriage or career.'

A dozen scenarios began to buzz through Ali's brain. Already she was thinking who she could hire to replace Larissa – someone who would do her bidding. She groped for something to say to Larissa. But all she could think of was that she would never allow herself to be put in such a position. After all the years Larissa had spent working her way up to deputy editor and being in line for an editorship . . . and she was tossing it away for some guy just because he was moving. ‘It can't have been an easy choice,' said Ali.