What she’d suggested—a guest appearance on HEC—should have been the break of a lifetime. But with the landscape of media shifting like quicksand, would Gentry see this as an opportunity? And more importantly, would he even give her the time of day to make the pitch?
The idea of phoning him made her stomach roil, and not in a how exciting to see an old flame way. More like someone was pressing a finger deep into an old bruise. She could convince him, couldn’t she? Or maybe she could keep it anonymous, and he wouldn’t need to know it was her contacting him at all. “Yes. I’ll get a meeting with him as soon as possible.”
“I want to negotiate his contract in person. Coordinate with Mary to get him in my office. Just not over lunch tomorrow, I’ve got that?—”
“Meeting with Tori King. I’ve already put it on the calendar.” Mary followed John down the hall, her polyester skirt swishing around her thighs like a plastic grocery bag.
Jenna’s head throbbed in rhythm with her heart as she slumped back against the chair, momentarily forgetting she wasn’t alone in John’s office. She could do this. It was a brilliant, innovative idea for the network, and she had no doubt it would pay off in ratings. As long as it didn’t launch a controversy they couldn’t handle and she didn’t shrivel up and die like the Wicked Witch of the West.
“Way to get in a good word with the boss, Rylen,” Glen sniped. Jenna glanced up. Rylen. That was the intern’s name.
“I’m s-sorry, I didn’t mean to undermine. I was only being honest.” Rylen pushed his glasses up his nose. Of course Glen wasn’t thrilled about this. He felt threatened when a writer made a witty comment in their brainstorming sessions.
Jenna waved his apology off. “It’s always best to be honest.” Ironic, considering in this office she rarely was. Rylen and intern number two exited the room as Jenna stood.
“Do you need help strategizing?” Glen took a step toward her, blocking her path to the hall.
Jenna dropped into her regular role. Flirt, but only a little. Give him the appearance of accessibility, but leave him guessing. She tilted her head. “You think I need help finding a phone number?”
Glen feigned offence. “No, for managing the talent.”
Jenna scoffed. “Don’t I have enough practice in that area?”
“With whom?” Glen put a hand on the chair behind her, his arm brushing hers.
She slid easily to the side and brushed her blond hair over her shoulder. Jenna winked and left the office, her heart stuttering like a jackhammer.
She’d gotten good at this game of pretend. Her education in the Globespan studio in Windsor had been . . . comprehensive. Jenna whisked inside her office and braced herself against the closed door, squeezing her eyes shut. Breathe. This wasn’t Globespan, and Glen wasn’t Carson Hart. Maybe he wanted to be, but Jenna wasn’t about to let him gain an inch of power over her.
While it wasn’t pleasant to see Carson’s face plastered on CB Primetime, it certainly served as an effective social contraceptive. She wouldn’t make the mistake of getting involved with a coworker again. Period. Or most likely any man ever again.
Jenna forced herself off the door, snagged her fur-lined coat from the chairback then picked up her purse from the side table. That thought was overly dramatic but not as far-fetched as she would’ve hoped. The dating world at thirty-three was bleak, and online dating wasn’t doing anything to help the situation. The three dates she’d been on since opening an account had started with a podiatrist with a foot fetish and had gotten progressively worse. But she didn’t need a man in her life, and frankly, she didn’t have time for one if she was going to become an executive producer before age thirty-five.
She kept her eyes focused on the hall ahead as she passed Glen’s office. His laugh followed her down the hall, and she wondered who he was on the phone with. Not that it mattered, but she liked to keep tabs on the relationships that affected any major players in the office.
Jenna waved goodnight to Mary as she made her way to the elevator. It was only five fifteen, but everything left on her to-do list was going to take at least an hour, and she was more productive at home in her pajamas after dinner anyway.
“Jenna, would you like one?” Mary called after her.
Jenna turned. Mary held out a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries. Probably a gift from a sponsor. “No, I don’t like them, but thanks anyway.” Mary gave her an odd look. She’d gotten used to that over the years. Hating strawberries was like hating kittens.
Jenna hit the elevator button. She’d never admit how strategic she was at GCBN to anyone other than her close girlfriends, who were equally ambitious in their careers. She’d made the mistake of being too open in Windsor, too. It turned out, women who were happy with the status quo didn’t balk when men tried to give them tasks like organizing the Christmas party or buying new dishes for the coffee room even when they were reporters and journalists, not executive assistants. They didn’t appreciate people complaining about it either.
Jenna had been branded a shark and, her favourite, a man-hating robot, only after she’d been categorized as a slut trying to sleep her way to the top. Never mind that Hart wasn’t in any way, shape, or form her boss when she’d slept with him. Never mind that he didn’t say a thing to clear up the misconceptions. Before or after he got promoted over her.
The early December air was crisp against her cheeks as Jenna shoved her hands in the pockets of her coat. She wound through the parking garage, breathing in the scent of wet concrete and engine oil. With the temps at negative twenty, the peanut butter snow that collected under her bumper and wheel wells hadn’t melted even in a covered parking space. She kicked at the clumps of dirty ice, then slid into the driver’s seat.
Her phone rang before she could press the start button. Jenna gritted her teeth when she saw John’s name scrolling across the screen. She exhaled and picked up. “Hey, John.”
“You’re not in your office.”
Jenna dropped her head against the seat. “No, I’m not.”
“Must be nice to skip out early on a Tuesday, eh?”
So nice. Jenna laughed as if his dig didn’t make her stomach knot. “I’m lucky to have such an understanding boss.”
John laughed. “Oh, I know you’re good for the work. Just needling you a bit.”
