Kiss the Girls and Make Them Cry(40)
“Nicely done, Jacob. Make sure you expense the fifty bucks,” Junior said, smiling.
“Don’t worry, boss, I’ll figure something out. And one more thing. Up until a couple months ago, we had a lawyer working here in Human Resources with the same last name, Carter. Just for kicks, I checked his file.”
“And?”
“The address of the PO box holder matches the Upper East Side address where Carter lived when he was with REL.”
“Excellent. Can you get me a copy—”
“I had a feeling you’d want to see Carter’s file,” he said, handing a manila folder across the desk. “Happy reading!”
43
Paula Stephenson didn’t know what to do. She looked at the bills on her kitchen table. She was four months behind on the condo association dues and her mortgage was three months in arrears. To make matters worse, the condo had gone down in value since she purchased it. There was a letter threatening to repossess her car. Her health insurance provider had dumped her for lack of payment. Her checking account was down to a few thousand dollars.
How did I go through two million dollars? she raged at herself.
It started with the drinking, she thought as she glanced at the bottle of vodka and the glass, which were her constant—almost her only—companions. She had become the one thing she had promised herself she would avoid. Both of her parents had been alcoholics. She hated drinking, but had always wanted to fit in. When other people are drinking and you’re not, you make them uncomfortable, she thought. They think you’re judging them.
Not wanting to feel like an outsider, she had arrived at a solution. She would have a drink, usually wine or occasionally a beer, but never more than one. That one drink would be in her hand all evening and would still have some wine in it when the party was over.
She grimaced while taking another long sip of vodka and savoring the burning sensation as the liquid went down her throat. She felt herself starting to relax.
Everything changed after what happened with Matthews, she thought while taking a long drag on her cigarette.
She had been the weather girl at a small cable station in Cincinnati. After it was purchased by REL News, she had been invited to come to New York. The hours were terrible. Weekends and overnight shifts, but she was living her dream. She was an on-air broadcaster, twenty-five years old, and loving life in New York City.
One year of a dream. Six months of a nightmare. It was at a Christmas party that he took notice of her. She had been thrilled when the great Brad Matthews called her by name. He knows who I am!
There was much to celebrate. REL News was finishing the year with yet another impressive gain in the ratings. Polls revealed that TV viewers regarded their middle-of-the-road coverage as more fair and balanced by a significant margin than both CNN and Fox. When the waitress came over offering champagne, Matthews took one for himself and handed her one. Touching his glass to hers, he said, “We all need to continue what we’ve been doing to win America’s trust.”
She had to fit in. The champagne tasted strange but at the same time pleasing. The rest of the evening was a blur. Another glass of champagne, a nightcap at the bar, an offer of a ride home in his chauffeured car, for whatever reason having to stop at Matthews’s office first. She poured more vodka into her glass as she recalled with revulsion the feeling of him on top of her on the couch. Crying in the cab as she went home alone.
Soon after, the calls began. He wanted to see her in his office after her broadcast or before she started. She would go into his office looking perfect, her makeup and hair ready for the hot glare of the cameras. The sound of his office door closing. As he handed her a glass filled with a clear liquid, he told her how much he had enjoyed getting to know her at the Christmas party. It was the first time she had ever tasted vodka.
Usually he would leave first. That would give her a little time to compose herself. When she stopped crying, she would head back to the makeup room for a touch-up. REL insisted their on-air people, particularly the women, always look their best.
Finally, she had had enough. She hated Matthews and hated herself for what she had allowed him to do to her. She wanted out of New York. She’d quit REL a year and a half ago and accepted the first job she was offered, as the weather reporter at WDTN in Dayton. But after what happened with Matthews, something had changed, and for the worse. She had lost her self-confidence. Previously she would experience a rush of excitement when the producer counted down with his fingers and pointed to indicate when she was live on the air. In Dayton she found the green light of the live camera terrifying. And it showed.
Thanks to Matthews, she knew what she had to do to calm down. A swig of vodka before going on the air did the trick, at least in the beginning. But the feeling of nervousness crept back in and terrified her. Bigger problems called for larger cures.
It didn’t take long for her producers and some viewers to notice. She slurred the pronunciation of Cincinnati several times in one broadcast.
She took another sip as she recalled the humiliation that followed. A meeting with the executive producer and a company lawyer in her small office. Her denials followed by the discovery of a half-consumed fifth of vodka in her desk drawer. Her agreement to take a leave of absence for personal reasons. Who are they kidding? she asked herself. I got fired.
She didn’t need to go to some stupid rehab place, she had convinced herself. It’s natural to get a little nervous when you’re on TV. Everything would be all right if she just took some time to pull herself together after what had happened at REL News. And besides, she was tired of it being so cold in Ohio.