Reality Jane by Shannon Nering Read Free Book Online

from its standard 40-plus beats per minute to a drum roll. Airport permits were a nightmare to get, even with weeks of lead-time. I had less than two days. Not to mention I had no clue where Van Nuys was, or that LA even had an airport outside of LAX. And Koi ? As in pond? What the hell is that?
    Karl wasn’t trying to clobber me, I sensed. He was just being unrealistic, with a get ‘er done and don’t bother me management style. He didn’t really care what had to be done to get the permit.
    “Do you mind if I just ask what our location budget is so I can get going on this, like—” I looked at my watch, “like, uh, now, if that’s okay?”
    Karl guffawed. “We don’t pay for locations. CRP-TV carries beaucoup pull. Just tell them who you work for.”
    I scrambled for something positive to say while I cooked like a Christmas goose under my pink- and green-swirl Gucci knock-off blouse—a therapeutic purchase after my Friday night fiasco. A stream of sweat squirted past my rib cage as I squeezed my elbows tight against my sides. Friggin’ hippy deodorant crystals are supposed to keep you fresh. “Try the fancy new roll-on, nature’s anti-perspirant,” my big fat—
    “Actually, that’s a good question, Jane,” Naomi said. “We have some petty cash to cover the airport fees.” She looked at Karl. “Charm doesn’t work at airports. However, let’s avoid paying a fee for the restaurant. Come talk to me later, Jane.”
    “I’ll get calling right now,” I said, gathering up my things, noticeably ruffled. “Maybe Danny can stay and take notes, get any other details while I line up the airport.”
    “Of course,” said Danny, high drama in his voice as he wriggled upright in his chair, preparing for something grand.
    Karl nodded. “Don’t forget the limo, Jane.”
    “Right. Of course. We’ll make it happen,” I said, managing a toothy smile as I fumbled for the door. “A day with three mega-sexy hosts and MC Toke, the world’s biggest rap star? It’s going to be awesome!”
    “Hosts?” Lucy barked. “As in plural? What? Have I multiplied?”
    “Ffff. . . uuuuuck” is all I heard as Karl dropped his head into his palms.
    Ffff. . . uck is right! I shimmied out the door and made for my desk in a full-fledged race to avoid the aftermath. Wasn’t my fault Karl hadn’t told Lucy she’d just become a co-host, or was it? I thought they said she knew. One morning in the TV cuckoobarn and I’d lost any sense of judgment. And was it really possible that I’d recently left a serious on-air reporting job (albeit part-time) to direct women who paraded their naked beavers in front of the whole world? Drizzly Vancouver was suddenly looking not so drizzly after all.
    Thirty phone calls, six hundred dollars, and a lot of begging later, I received permission to shoot at Van Nuys airport on Wednesday. When I finally looked up from my desk, already pasted with a dozen or so scribbled sticky notes, Toni was standing at my door.
    “That went well,” I said, laughing painfully, referring to the meeting. Friday night was already banked away in the crappy memories vault—do not open until next night of stay-at-home self-loathing and a Ben-and-Jerry’s-fish-food-binge.
    “I am so sorry,” Toni began. “I had no idea the girls were going to do that to you.”
    I felt my insides curdle all over again. “Yeah. That was awful.” I shook my head and paused. “Is that what LA women are like? I know Naomi’s not, but the others? Who would do that?”
    “Honest, Jane, when I arrived at Rebecca’s and you weren’t there, they told me you’d changed your mind. Believe me, I would never do that to you. But you’re my boss, and Naomi said you could fire me. Your choice.”
    “I wouldn’t do that to you,” I said, thinking I’d do well to redefine my concept of dream job. “Tell me this, though: Why didn’t you pick up your cell when I called?”
    “It was on silent—it had been on silent all day for