Tony Partly Cloudy (33 page)

Fighting back tears, Sarah dragged her suitcase out the door, letting it slam behind her.

EARLY MONDAY MORNING THE PHONE WOKE TONY from a deep, dreamless sleep. It took him a moment to realize where he was. Stiff and groggy, he clambered off the couch where he’d fallen asleep the night before, then made his way around the beer cans and pizza boxes that littered the living room floor. His apartment was uncharacteristically messy, but after Sarah left, housekeeping was the last thing on Tony’s mind.

He picked up the phone just before the answering machine kicked in. It was Trask’s secretary: the General Manager wanted to see him “at his earliest convenience.” After some discussion, Tony established a meeting time that was neither early nor convenient, then stumbled off to take a shower.

He dressed in his best suit, following another Jimmy Carbone maxim.
When you’re meeting with powerful people, dress in a way that conveys your own power
. That’s great, Tony thought bitterly. But how should you dress when you need to win your girlfriend back? Jimmy hadn’t taught him that one yet. And now the lessons he
had
taught Tony were a big part of what stood between him and the woman he loved. Tony scowled at his reflection as he adjusted his necktie. Thanks a lot, Jimmy.

Driving in to work, Tony wondered what Trask wanted. Historically Trask was an ivory-tower manager, and Tony had relatively little contact with the man, which was fine with him. So the meeting request was unusual, as was its apparent urgency.

At the appointed time Tony was ushered into Trask’s high-tech office, which was like stepping into the pages of a Sharper Image catalog. The light from the dozens of TV monitors that lined the far wall of the office cast an ever-changing glow over the room.

Trask stood up to greet him, shaking Tony’s hand vigorously and staring up at him with bulging eyes. Trask seemed intent on staring right through you, and the effect was unnerving. Between the way his eyes bulged and the intensity of his expression, one employee had put it best by saying he looked “like he was trying out a new pair of eyes.” Tony could only maintain eye contact with Trask for short periods before it got too distracting, so he frequently shifted his gaze to the wall of TV screens.

As always, Trask got right to the point.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

Tony shifted in his seat. He had an idea, but didn’t want to tip his hand just yet.

“Then I’ll tell you,” Trask said. “It’s come to my attention that with all the fuss that’s being made over the way you caught that tornado – terrific job on that, by the way – that there might be some...
other organizations
expressing an interest in your services.”

It was a surprisingly roundabout way for the usually blunt man to talk, and apparently he realized it.

“Ah, hell, Tony – I won’t bullshit you. You’re hot stuff right now, after that tornado. I’m guessing you’re getting some offers from the networks.”

It was true. In the midst of everything else Tony was dealing with, two of the big networks had contacted him to see if he had any interest in moving up in the world. But the capper was when Ryan Culbertson, Tony’s old boss from the NWS, had called to see if Tony might be interested in doing the morning shift on the Weather Channel.
The Freaking Weather Channel
. Tony had planned to tell Sarah about this new development, but that was before everything had gone to hell.

Tony snapped back to the conversation, unsure how to proceed. “Well, Mr. Trask, I’m not sure what makes you think I—”

“Don’t bullshit me, Tony. I’m talking straight to you, and I’m asking the same in return. Are the networks sniffing your ass or aren’t they?”

It was an apt description. Other than the Weather Channel’s offer, the calls Tony had received were preliminary in nature. Ass-sniffing, if you put it in dog terms. The notion made Tony smile involuntarily.

“Yeah, I guess you could say a couple of them have been, uh, sniffing around. But nothing’s come of it. I mean, you guys had me sign all that non-compete stuff, so I don’t really see how it’s even an option, you know?”

Trask sighed. “Tony, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but if I don’t, some asshole lawyer will. Those non-compete clauses are for people we actually
compete
with. They’re meant to keep you from going ten blocks up the street to work for WRFI. That’s who we compete with, not NBC. Not CBS. With a good enough lawyer – and believe me, the networks have good enough lawyers – you can find a way around those clauses.”

Tony was silent, wondering whether it was coincidence that the two networks Trask had named were the same two that had contacted him. Broadcast news was a small world, so he doubted it.

Trask went on, his bulging eyes locked on Tony, who sought optical refuge in the TV screens behind the man. “That’s why WGX has prepared a proposal that I think you’ll find makes it significantly more attractive to stay right here.”

This caught Tony’s attention. “Define
significantly more attractive
,” he said.

Trask opened a folder that had been lying on his desk, and began leafing through it. “For starters,” he said, “there would be a salary increase.” He named a number that put Tony’s poker face to the test.

“Go on,” Tony said, straining to keep his voice calm.

As Trask outlined some of the other changes that were being proposed, Tony’s attention was caught by one of the screens behind Trask, prompting him to interrupt.

“I see Garrett got bumped up.”

Trask blinked. “Pardon me?”

“Garrett,” Tony said, pointing to one of the screens. “It was just a tropical storm for the last few days, but now I see they’ve upgraded it to Hurricane Garrett.”

Trask looked briefly toward the screen, then turned back to face Tony. “Whatever,” he said. “I haven’t really been following it.” Trask then launched into an explanation of a proposed increase in Tony’s healthcare coverage. But he was disturbed to see that he didn’t seem to have Tony’s full attention.

“Jeez,” Tony said, his eyes once again locked on the screen. “Looks like Garrett is heading straight for South Florida. You know, down where I used to live.”

This time Trask didn’t even bother to look. He stared at Tony, trying to capture the man’s attention. Dismissively he said, “Well, good thing you got the hell out of there. I think anybody who lives down there has a death wish anyway. Now, as far as your dental plan...”

But Trask could see that Tony wasn’t listening – or at least he was doing a damn good job of seeming not to be interested. He thought back to Tony’s job interview, to what a tough negotiator Tony had been. He decided it was time to up the ante.

“Tony, I realize that although some of these increases in your benefits may be generous, they’re not exactly... sexy. So we are also prepared to offer you some additional perks. You know, a little something extra here and there.”

“What kind of perks are we talking?” Tony asked, briefly looking away from the screen to meet Trask’s gaze.

To the GM’s chagrin, the big meteorologist still seemed only mildly interested. Christ, how much had the networks offered him?

“Well, Tony, there’d be lots of nice little touches. A makeover for your dressing room. Better catering, if you’d like. But something I think you’ll really enjoy is our offer to provide you with limo service to and from work. I know recently there’s been some concern expressed about security in the parking lot, so that would of course no longer be an issue for you.”

Tony fought back a smile, thinking Trask had no idea how much of an “issue” that had almost been for him. Then he flashed on Jimmy’s offer.
Your own limo. Your own Eric
. Everywhere he turned, people were throwing money at him, trying to tempt him. Trying to get him to play ball, but by their rules. Everybody wanted a piece of Tony.

Everybody but Sarah.

Tony realized he was staring at one of the screens. The screen that showed Garrett’s projected path. He startled Trask by standing up.

“Listen, Mr. Trask – this all sounds terrific.” Tony reached for the folder Trask had been holding. “I assume everything you talked about is here in writing?”

Dumbfounded, Trask found himself handing over the folder. “Well, yes,” he stammered. “It’s all there, in its preliminary form. We’d need to discuss this further, of course, to iron out the fine points.”

“Definitely,” Tony said, grabbing the folder and tapping it with his free hand. “For now, let me just take this and spend some time looking it over, and then maybe we can talk about it, you know, after I’ve had some time to think.”

This was not going at all the way Trask had intended. He cursed himself for once again underestimating the younger man’s skill at negotiation. Tony was one cool customer – hell, the guy barely even seemed interested.

Trying to regain his composure, Trask forced himself to speak slowly. “And do you have any idea just how long you’ll need to think about this?”

Tony was putting the folder in his briefcase, not having bothered to open it. “Not long,” he said. “Couple of days, tops.” He snapped the briefcase shut and stood up, offering his hand to Trask. “Is that good with you?”

Helpless, Trask shook hands with Tony, trying in vain to lock eyes with him in one last laser-beam stare. But Tony was already turning to go.

“Sure,” Trask said defeatedly. “I guess that’s... good with me.”

“Thanks, Mr. Trask,” Tony said over his shoulder as he walked. “I’ll be talking to you.” Without turning to face him, Tony raised one hand in a wave.

Then he was gone, leaving Trask standing behind his desk, one hand stupidly raised in a return wave that Tony hadn’t bothered to turn around to see.

♠ ♥ ♣ ♦

Tony called the number on the card, and was relieved to learn that Jimmy was still in town. The man who answered the phone granted Tony a Tuesday morning sit-down with Jimmy, but when Tony asked where it would take place, he was simply told, “We’ll send a guy to pick you up.” Before Tony could give an address, the man hung up.

The guy they sent was Eric. It was Tony’s first time alone with the big man, and he wasn’t quite sure how to talk to the giant sitting next to him in the car. I mean, what did you say to a guy who had taken a bullet for you?

Noticing that Eric was once again clad in his trademark long leather coat, Tony said, “I’m glad to see you got your coat back. How is it – they do a decent job?”

Eric nodded. “Yeah, it’s good as new. They FedExed it to me – thank God, ‘cause I couldn’t stand walking around in that Bears jacket.” Eric shook his head in disgust. “Freakin’ Bears. But it was all I could find in this town that would fit me. I borrowed it from a guy I know who played a couple seasons for them.”

Tony had a hard time understanding how the team could lose with somebody Eric’s size playing for them, but he decided not to pursue the subject.

“Listen, Eric – again I want to apologize for what you went through on my account. You know I’d have never asked you to do something like that for me.”

“It’s okay. It’s not personal or nothin’. I was just doin’ my job.”

Tony laughed bitterly. “Yeah, well, there’s jobs and then there’s jobs. I mean, with my job, a bad day is when I get the weather wrong, or I find out our ratings dipped. In your job, a bad day means you might get shot, or have to get, you know, rough with somebody.” Tony cleared his throat. “At least I assume that’s a bad day. You never seemed like the kind of guy who would get his jollies hurting people – I mean, as far as I can tell.” Suddenly Tony grew worried that he’d overstepped his bounds.

Eric shook his head vehemently. “No way. It’s just that in this line of work, when you’re a big guy like me, you tend to get type cast, know what I mean? Always the muscle, never the brains.”

Tony laughed bitterly. “I know all about type casting. I been fighting it my whole life. And look where it got me.”

Eric said, “Hey, you did all right for yourself. You got skills, and you used them. You got on the TV – hell, you got downright famous for being so good at what you do, am I right? Let’s be honest here – how many guys like us ever did that?”

It was the most Tony had ever heard Eric say, and the candor of the big man’s words silenced him.

When Tony didn’t reply, Eric said, “Look, I know things are kinda messed up for you right now. But from where I sit, you still got a lot to be proud of.”

Tony looked over at Eric, but the big man kept his gaze focused on the road ahead of them.

“Thanks,” Tony said.

Eric nodded, and the two rode on in silence.

♠ ♥ ♣ ♦

The meeting wasn’t a long one.

“You’re sure about this,” Jimmy said, when Tony finished.

Tony sighed. “Yeah, I really don’t see any other way.”

Jimmy looked at Tony, his face unreadable. “You understand there’s no turning back from a decision like this. This changes everything.”

“Believe me, I know. But I really don’t see that I have a choice.”

Jimmy nodded sadly. “I know what you mean. I feel exactly the same way. You know I never wanted to put you in this position, but sometimes these things get so big that it’s out of our hands,
capisce
?”

“Yeah. I know.”