Falling Star (42 page)

When she finally shut up, Ruth just stared at
her. Then, after what seemed a long time, she reached out and
patted her knee and Natalie could swear that Ruth's eyes were
something very close to misty. "I think it's a fantastic idea," she
said quietly. "And if you really want to do this, you can make it
happen. You're one of the few people I know who could."

"You don't think it's crazy?"

Ruth shrugged. "It's a leap, but the best
things in life are. Wasn't it a leap when you went into TV in the
first place?"

Natalie nodded. And she'd done more and gone
farther in television than she'd ever dreamed she would. She rubbed
her damp hands down her legs in another futile attempt to dry them.
"So, Ruth, are
you
ready for a leap?"

The older woman's eyes narrowed. "What are
you talking about?"

She took a deep breath. "I'd like you to
consider joining me. As my partner. You'd get an equity stake, a
big one."

Ruth's face registered shock, a rare sight.
"You want
me
to join you in this venture of yours?"

"Why is that so surprising? We work
tremendously well together, I enjoy every minute of it, and you're
the best producer I've ever known. Not to mention that this place
is a hellhole since Scoppio took over. I'd be honored if you joined
me. I mean"—Natalie hesitated—"if you can see your way clear to
doing so. I realize you might have financial constraints. I know
this is a huge life change. And it's risky. But please say you'll
consider it."

Ruth looked away, as if she were imagining a
private world that Natalie couldn't see. Natalie had a flash that,
as long as they'd worked together, there was a great deal about
Ruth Sperry that she didn't know.

"Might be good to shake me up," Ruth said
slowly. "I've been sitting on my butt for a long time now. And new
chances don't come up that often."

Natalie's heart began to pound. "You'll think
about it?"

"You're really sure you want to take on an
old biddy like me?"

"If you're an old biddy, what does that make
me?"

"A young biddy." Ruth punched the EJECT
button on the videotape machine and the CNN cassette popped out.
"I'll think about it. And in the meantime I'll make the radio
calls, see what stations we can line up to cooperate."

Natalie's eyes flew open. "You'd do
that?"

"Why not? I started in radio. Those folks are
my buds. They get drunk at my house on the weekend. I'll line 'em
up in no time."

Natalie reached across the small expanse of
KXLA's Edit Bay 3 and grasped Ruth in a hug, which seemed to
embarrass her.

"So what's next?" Ruth asked gruffly.

"I sit in my office and write a business
plan. Geoff agreed to help me but I'm doing the first draft. I'm
going to stay late tonight to work on it."

Ruth arched her brows, suddenly a mischievous
glint in her eye. "And where does all this leave Tony Scoppio?"

Natalie rose from her chair smiling. "Out in
the cold.

*

Kelly decided the best place to kill time
after
The KXLA Primetime News
was the ladies' room by the
executive wing. Nobody would be there, which was key since people
would think it was weird if they saw her hanging around after the
newscast. People in TV news liked their jobs but when their shifts
were over they ran out of the station like it was going to
detonate. Anybody still on the lot after hours was doing something
bad, like making contraband dubs or stealing tapes. Exactly what
Kelly was planning, in fact.

She lay down on the ratty pink couch in the
anteroom, figuring she had to hang till 11:45 at least. By then,
the station should be empty except for the intern who manned the
Assignment Desk overnight and the graveyard-shift security guard.
Howard Bjorkman had the intern so terrified of missing a phone call
he only left the Desk for the john, and Kelly had already made sure
the guard was asleep as usual in the crew room.

Damn if the couch wasn't lumpy. Kelly
struggled to find a good spot, staring up morosely at the pink and
silver flowered wallpaper and asbestos ceiling. Couch stuffing
poked into her back and her butt. The whole place reeked of
cleaning products. Minutes ticked by. She felt as if she were in a
war: bored as hell but nervous at the same time, because she was
about to do something scary. Break into her executive producer's
office to make off with a tape.

Finally it was 11:45. She rose from the couch
and reached into her jacket pocket for the bobby pin she'd lifted
from the hair studio. Thank God she'd practiced this a lot as a
kid, locking her parents' bedroom door, then breaking it open
again. She made her way back toward the newsroom, tiptoeing so her
heels wouldn't clack on the concrete floor. Past the crew room,
which, surprisingly, was empty. She paused, briefly nervous, then
relaxed as she realized the guard had probably segued into phase
two of his shift, sitting in Satellite Operations watching porn
flicks. She didn't bother to check on the Assignment Desk intern,
instead heading straight upstairs to Ruth's office.

Locked, as she expected. Out came the bobby
pin. She made fast work of it. Inside she scurried, then pulled the
door shut behind her. She flicked on the overhead light, blinking
at the fluorescence.

For the first time, Kelly was grateful that
Ruth Sperry was so organized. For behind Ruth's desk, lined up on a
metal file cabinet, were tapes clearly labeled CNN/
KIDS IN
DANGER
. Plain as day, even from across the office.

But which was the tape she needed? She
couldn't make off with all nine of them—Ruth would know for sure
something was up. Kelly ran across the office to power on the
betatape VCR and monitor, both of which took an eternity to warm
up. Finally they were ready. She muted the volume and popped in
tape nine, which she thought was the right one.

It was nine, she could tell instantly. By now
every frame of that goddamn video was seared into her brain. She
ejected the cassette and powered down the equipment.

Kids in Danger
was supposed to air
pretty soon, so she had to hope Ruth would decide she didn't have
time to call CNN for another dub. But Kelly would have to keep her
eyes open. If another tape shipment came in from CNN, she'd just
have to get the new dub and destroy it, too.

At that moment, the door to Ruth's office
opened.

Startled, Kelly spun on her heels, the tape
in her hand, realizing as she stared at Natalie Daniels standing in
the doorway that the situation must look pretty damn
suspicious.

"What the hell are you doing in Ruth's office
at midnight?'' Natalie's voice was so low and menacing that for the
first time in her life, Kelly was kind of afraid of her. "Ruth
always locks her door when she leaves." Natalie moved a step
closer. "And what is that tape in your hand? Give me that."

"Back off," she growled. "What's your
problem? This is a tape of my show. Remember? It's
my
show
now!"

Natalie moved toward her and without thinking
Kelly tried to run past her out the door. But Natalie was
surprisingly quick—
bitch!
—and grabbed her by the elbow
before she made it out.

"Give me that," Natalie snarled and tried to
pull the tape away. Kelly was surprised how strong she was, but she
wasn't going to let her have it. She'd never let her have it. She'd
never let go ...

"Hey!" The security guard, big and white and
dumb, loomed in the doorway. For a split second Kelly's hand
relaxed and Natalie jerked backward, tripping over her own feet and
landing on her butt.

But with the tape in her hand.

Damn!

"What's going on here?" The security guy was
wide awake now. He stepped into Ruth's office and stood between
Kelly and Natalie, holding his arms wide to keep them apart.

"She broke into Ruth's office," Natalie said,
getting to her feet, "and tried to steal this tape."

"I did not, you paranoid moron!" Kelly lied.
She turned to the guard and made her voice reasonable. "Ruth told
me I needed to screen this tape tonight and that's what I'm doing."
She pointed at Natalie. "I don't know what
her
problem
is."

"Fine." Natalie headed toward Ruth's desk.
"Let's call Ruth at home. Just so happens I know her number."

No!
Kelly lunged for Natalie and the
tape, figuring that afterward she'd break for the door. But Natalie
raced behind Ruth's desk and Kelly felt the security guard grab her
around the waist and the tape was gone, gone, gone. She didn't get
it and she'd never get it, and—
oh, fuck!
—what was going to
happen now ... ?

Natalie looked at Kelly, her face all
serious. "Looks like now I've got something on
you
. Maybe a
chance to get even with you for sleeping with my husband."

Kelly's mouth dropped open. She was in deep
doggie do now. She watched Natalie pick up Ruth's phone and felt as
if her heart chose that exact moment to stop beating.

*

Natalie and Geoff kicked off their working
Saturday in what Natalie judged the most sensible of ways: by not
working. They took advantage of the gorgeous day by hiking up
Nichols Canyon to Mulholland Drive, then continuing a half mile
east along the ridge until they hit Runyan Canyon. Then down the
dirt path that led to the overlook, which afforded a glorious view
of the LA basin, all blurred and white and shimmery in September's
hot haze. Hikers were everywhere, and runners, and locals with dogs
off leash, everybody freer somehow, as though the weekend air had
invaded their bloodstreams and buoyed their moods.

Natalie took her eyes off the view to study
Geoff's profile. Apparently he hadn't shaved that morning, because
he had a bit of a shadow, and his light brown hair was tousled from
the breeze. He was in khaki shorts, a white tee-shirt, and
Topsiders, and he looked tall and tanned and handsome. Like a male
version of
The Girl from Ipanema
. And as unattainable, since
he was two weeks from marrying another woman. Reluctantly she tore
her eyes away.

He spoke still squinting out at the view.
"I'm going to tell you something that's going to make you very,
very angry."

She frowned. "What's that?"

Then Geoff relayed to her how Tony had
concocted and spread the lie that she had suffered a nervous
breakdown. By the time he finished, Natalie was apoplectic.

"That's outrageous! I should sue Scoppio's
butt from here to kingdom come! That's libelous, Geoff, and it's
keeping me from getting another anchor job!"

"I completely understand how outraged you
are, but speaking as an attorney I believe it would be difficult to
make a libel case stick."

All she could do was shake her head, even
more enraged. And frustrated that once again she'd been checkmated
by Tony Scoppio. "This explains the cockamamie remark that Dean
Drosher made to me after my audition, asking whether I could handle
the stress of an anchor job. At the time it seemed crazy but now I
understand why he wanted to know." She threw her hands up in the
air. "Do you understand now? Do you understand why I cannot
countenance continuing to work for that bastard?"

Geoff's voice was calm, though it failed to
mollify her. "I've always understood that, Nats. And rest assured
that I've begun to reverse the damage, though it's tough. People
tend to believe the first story they hear, even news directors who
should know better."

"Geoff, I have only two weeks left!" The
reality was staggering. She had never imagined her career would
come to this sorry pass. "Two weeks from today I'm unemployed
unless I get another offer or re-sign with Scoppio."

"You'll get other offers, Natalie." Geoff
shaded his eyes with his hand to scan the horizon, as though offers
might be incoming even then and there.

But she was hard-pressed to share his
confidence. By the time they returned to her house she was itching
to take her life into her own hands by honing the business
plan.

They repaired to her redbrick terrace for a
quick lunch of grilled chicken and salad, then got down to the
nitty-gritty, still sitting at the umbrella-shaded teak table where
they'd eaten.

Geoff tossed aside his napkin. "The biggest
hurdle you have is your lack of management experience."

"Because that makes it tougher to get
funding." She toyed with the straw in her lemonade. "I believe I
can manage people. There's a bit of that in being a reporter. It's
a small team that puts together a story, with the reporter at the
head."

"But nonetheless that's a hole in your
background. Which means you have to have everything else buttoned
up before you pitch to VCs."

Natalie was still trying to get used to VCs
being venture capitalists and not the Viet Cong. "And I need a plan
for lining up content partners from TV and radio."

"And newspapers. Most important, you need a
management team. Have you broached the idea to Ruth?"

"I have." Natalie grimaced. "I hate to say it
but I don't think she'll do it."

"Too much risk?"

"At her stage of life, yes. But I'm not
giving up on her yet."

He nodded, thoughtful. "Have you thought of a
backup?"

"What do you think of Sally O'Day?"

Geoff arched his brows. "WITW's former
primetime anchor? I know she's been beached since Drosher fired
her. It's grabby, two former primetime anchors from the two biggest
media markets founding a local-news site. The downside is that your
skill sets are so similar, you don't complement each other. But it
might fly."

Natalie sighed. This was shaping up to be
like everything else in life. Not easy. "Okay." She slapped the
teak table, jarring the ice cubes in her lemonade. "What else? To
be absolutely clear on what the target market is and how to hit
it—"