The Vibrant Years(79)

The light in Joyce’s office was on, and Aly knocked on the half-open door and went in.

“There’s no one in the screening room,” she said into the eerily silent room.

Joyce looked up from her laptop, the strangest anger sharpening her eyes. “We’re not screening the promo.”

Excuse her? “Are we rescheduling?” Aly said as calmly as she could, breath held.

“Do you know who Bindu Desai is?” Joyce asked.

Before Aly could answer, Joyce stood and walked around her desk. “Why didn’t you tell me your mother was the one who tricked Richard Langley out of his money?”

“She’s not my mother. She’s my former mother-in-law.” It was the first thing that popped out of Aly’s mouth. Even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t the right response, but her brain was scrambling to wrap itself around what was happening.

That seemed to give Joyce pause. But only for a second.

She pulled up something on her phone and handed it to Aly.

There was an article about Richard’s having died under mysterious circumstances in the home of his latest girlfriend, this time an immigrant woman from India. It said something about his having changed his will a mere month before his death, soon after meeting this woman, who the National Book Award–winning author had been inexplicably smitten by. Friends who preferred to remain anonymous said that the woman had attached herself to him with a speed and force that caused them concern.

The coven had worked fast and struck hard.

“This article has no mention of Bindu.”

“My son and his stepsiblings just found out who it is. Since she signed the papers yesterday to take their money. I thought the name rang a bell.”

Aly couldn’t believe Bindu had done it. Bindu’s horror at the fact that Richard had involved her in his vendetta against his kids bordered on rage. She had been adamant about having nothing to do with the money. Had Lee convinced her? Bindu never let other people’s opinions influence her. So she had to have found something she wanted to do with the money.

It wasn’t their money, Aly wanted to say, but Joyce was in a full mama-bear snit.

“This scandal is really going to blow up. And you know I can’t have it associated with one of my anchors. I’m putting the segment on hold, and Jess will do the Meryl interview. I’ve let Ms. Streep’s people know, and they’ve confirmed the change.”

Aly stood there, the floor starting to slant beneath her. She slanted her body with it, slid her reeling mind upright.

Aly had shared the contact once she’d been assured of having the interview. “You’re taking my segment away? You’re punishing me for what you thought my mother did? When it has absolutely nothing to do with me. When your son would directly benefit from the inheritance?”

“How can it have nothing to do with you? You knew that hussy was trying to trap an old, disoriented man and cheat his children out of what’s theirs.”

“You mean trap the old, disoriented narcissistic asshole?”

Joyce opened her mouth to respond, but Aly cut her off, her mind still reeling from the fact that Joyce had replaced her on the Meryl piece. Without bothering to tell her. Aly’s segment was gone. Again.

“And don’t call her that.” Aly’s voice was thin.

“What?” Joyce said, brows fighting Botox valiantly to rise.

“Bindu is not a hussy,” she said, voice stronger.

Joyce made a strangled sound.

But Aly was not done with her. “And you can’t give the Meryl interview to Jess. Not after how hard I’ve worked on it.”

Joyce let out an incredulous laugh. “Watch yourself, Aly. Because I can, and I did.”

“That interview’s mine, and I’m not giving it up. That segment is mine, and I’m not giving it up.” She pulled herself up to her full height. Joyce loomed over her. But Aly felt taller, filled. Stretched so tight, rips started at her seams.

“Last I checked, I run this place. That’s my decision, not yours.”

“Sure. But there are antidiscrimination and conflict of interest laws that forbid you from making decisions based on personal interest. You can’t use projects to leverage your son’s inheritance.”

“That’s an absurd accusation. I strongly advise you to calm down. Threatening me is not a good idea. It’s impossible to prove any of that. With the ratings from your previous pieces, I have no reason to give you the segment.”

“Bob and Jess have had worse ratings, and they’ve been given assignment after assignment.”

Color rose up Joyce’s long neck. “If you don’t like the way things work here, you’re free to find another workplace.”

“Really, you’re threatening to fire me? I strongly advise you to think about that, because I have enough evidence from ten years of you shutting me out of every opportunity to advance myself under the guise of relatability. Which, by the way, is the oldest discrimination trick in the book.”

Joyce’s temper cooled as fast as it had risen. A glimmer of calculation edged into her eyes. One part disbelief at the fact that Aly actually possessed a spine and one part belief that Aly had absolutely no power in this situation. “Let’s both calm down, table this discussion. Take the rest of this week off, and we’ll talk on Monday.”