It Girl. Nic Tatano
Читать онлайн книгу.
get you discharged. For today, go home and rest." He nodded at my friends and headed out.
"You know," said Savannah, "you may have something with your idea."
"She's right," said Layla.
I threw back the covers and started to get out of bed. "What idea?"
"Sex to knock you out," said Savannah.
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, and you see how my attempt to start a relationship last night ended up."
"Maybe you don't need a relationship," said Layla. "Maybe you could go the friends with benefits route."
"Now I know how Katrina Favor did this shift for so long!"
***
If I needed a reason to feel more positive about the job, she was sitting on the interview set waiting for me. Yes, one of the key carrots in the bunch, Senator Sydney Dixon, was my guest on Monday morning. Thankfully the extended stay in the hospital had recharged my batteries a bit. I'd also ditched the coffee and switched to fruit that was high in natural sugar, figuring things like dates and raisins might perk me up but not keep me awake at night. I still desperately wanted coffee, but was determined to give the natural high a try.
The Senator stood up to greet me as I approached the set and extended her hand. "Veronica, so nice to meet you."
"My pleasure," I said, as I shook her hand. Her turquoise eyes locked with mine, and I saw what was known in media circles as the look. The one that went right into your soul, seemed honestly sincere, as opposed to the usual blank glare you got from politicians who forgot your name ten seconds after you told them. It was part of the reason she was such a media darling and often received positive coverage bordering on bias. Reporters generally liked her personally, and she seemed genuine in return.
Voters loved her for any number of reasons, not the least of which was her appearance. The forty-five year old Senator from New Jersey is a stunner, a redhead like me but she's strawberry to my copper. Her body would be the envy of any twenty-year-old, as the former Marine drill sergeant has maintained her perfectly toned figure. But her buffed physique is a contrast to her incredibly sexy face, complete with high cheekbones, full lips, a sharp nose and a distinctive sultry whiskey voice that drives men crazy. It's like a cross between Demi Moore and Lorraine Bracco, and the moment you hear it you know who's speaking. She's known as the Tower of Power in Washington: a six foot babe who can turn heads in an evening gown and crack heads when she needs to. She also answers to Big Red from her days in the military.
That military service is an asset, as is her seemingly perfect normal family. Married to her high school sweetheart who is a school teacher, she's managed to raise two squeaky clean college age kids who spend their summers working with various charitable organizations. If there have ever been any skeletons in her closet, they've been exorcized. No one has even been able to come up with anything remotely resembling a scandal about the woman.
Put it all together and she's a slam dunk for the next Presidential election. I know it, the public knows it, and the network sure as hell knows it. Yes, there's this thing called bias which drives viewers crazy; in this case the networks are jockeying for position to get in the good graces of the woman who will occupy the Oval Office for four, and maybe eight, years.
That's not to say I agree with everything she stands for, because I don't. But since I'm an old school journalist I'll never share my opinions about politics, religion or social issues.
Anyway, she hasn’t officially kicked off a campaign with it being three years away, so today's visit is actually about things going on in the Senate. But there was a problem with one of the cameras, so we had a chance to make small talk while it was being fixed.
"I read about your hospital visit, are you feeling better?" she asked.
"Yeah, once I rinsed the bisque out of my hair. But you should know it does make a wonderful conditioner."
She laughed as she leaned back in her chair. "I'm not surprised you passed out. I couldn't imagine getting up at that hour every day. Though if I run for President, I know it'll be a couple of years without a break and crossing so many time zones I won't even know who I am. I wouldn't want to be one of those candidates who gets up to make a speech and forgets where they are."
"Hey, we love those sound bites. Speaking of the campaign—"
"Ah, nice try, Veronica. No announcement today. I haven't decided."
"Hey, you can't fault a girl for taking a shot."
"Look, I live in North Jersey and I've watched you for a long time. I know you're a solid reporter." She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "As opposed to some other morning show hosts."
"Thank you, that's very kind."
"So what do you want to talk about—"
"Ah, nice try, Senator."
"Hey, you can't fault a girl for taking a shot."
We shared a laugh, and I could see how the woman could charm even the most hard-boiled reporter.
Fifteen minutes later her interview was in the can. It was a spirited give and take; she didn't dodge any tough questions, I didn't lob any softballs, and she avoided anything that sounded rehearsed. She talked rather than recited. Again, I didn't agree with everything she said, but I couldn't help but like her personally as I walked her to the door.
"So, I was talking to Gavin," she said, "and he told me that should I decide to run you would be assigned to the campaign."
I nodded and smiled, thankful that Gavin was actually sticking to his word on something. "Yeah. So we could be tired together."
"Well, maybe by then you'll have learned some tricks and can give me advice. We redheads have to stick together. Although I'm not sure the rest of the media could deal with two spunky ones on the same plane."
"True. As far as attitude is concerned, we could have been separated at birth." We laughed as we reached the door. "Here's one piece of advice I can give you right now, Senator: be prepared to have no social life."
"Already there, honey. Sometimes I go weeks without seeing my husband."
"At least you have one."
"Don't worry, Veronica, Mister Right is out there."
I held the door open for her, revealing a waiting limo. "Thanks for coming by, Senator, and it was great to meet you."
She shook my hand and smiled. "Pleasure was mine. I'll see you again soon."
I watched her energetic walk to the limo, waving at a few pedestrians as she moved.
Funny, the carrot Gavin had dangled was a carrot top. Ironic, huh?
And suddenly the thought of a campaign and Air Force One gave me a shot of energy that topped anything in a coffee mug. Maybe I could do this after all.
Upon further review, maybe I can't do this after all.
Three months into the new job, and I've realized my old boyfriend was right. I still don't want him back, but he was right. I'm not a morning person and never will be. You can't force an owl to be a chicken. (That one's from Savannah.)
This truly has become the job from hell. Forbidden fruit, as Alexander would put it. I can almost hear him saying, "I told you so. You should have run off to Connecticut with me and you could be baking cookies, servicing me every night, and thanking me for the opportunity."
I've become a physical wreck. Oh, those great breakfasts at The Little Bakery get me through the show all right. But it's the other twenty-two hours of the day that are killing me.
Here's my typical day:
Get up at two in the morning after being jolted