this code three? Could be
something or it could be nothing. But if it’s something breaking, it’s a good
plan to have our Senior Reporter on it. Pat?”
“Oh, we want my opinion,” Pat’s sarcasm was impossible to
miss. She may be able to salvage the Gordon relationship, but the Walter
relationship? Screw it.
“Fine. Gordon, text Bernie when you find out what it is.”
Shelby leaned in and covered her mouth as she whispered, “He
doesn’t know how to text.”
Good, grief, the man’s too set in his ways to
text? Without missing a beat, Macy added, “Better yet Gordon, just call in
and keep us up to speed. We’ll send you the live truck. In fact—” She put a
finger up and called out to Bernie across the newsroom, “Can you roll the truck
behind Gordon, just in case?”
Bernie nodded.
“Okay, next up. Snow. How much are we getting?” Macy
addressed the question to the half dozen staffers remaining in the meeting.
Walters sneered and pointed to the white board, “Snow
doesn’t appear to be on your little list.”
“Really? I’d put under ‘breaking’ and ‘impact.’ If we get a
couple of inches of snow, it won’t be covered on TMZ or The Drudge or
Huffington Post, but our competitors will be on it. Local weather is one way
you can beat the big guys. If it snows, it goes. Got it?” She pointed at each
of them for emphasis, hoping to inspire them even if Walters was doing his best
to diminish her, “WLUV is the go-to station for weather, period. You’ve got
some pretty decent weather equipment; now let’s make sure Grand City knows it.
”
“That’s ridiculous! We will keep weather where it is—we
don’t need the egos of our meteorologists getting bigger than their paychecks. So ,
Miss Green, if you don’t mind I’ll finish this morning meeting. I suggest you
stick to advising Shelby and maybe the anchors about what colors go best with
their eyes.”
Macy’s jaw clenched. She thought about dropping Wes
Thompson’s name here, but in the long run, it wouldn’t earn her the respect she
needed with this staff. Besides, she could handle Walters herself.
She smiled at him, but her eyes stayed cold. Then she did
the worst thing you could do to a power-hungry old blowhard: She simply ignored
his jab and his attempt to belittle her.
Macy turned to the remaining reporters, “I’m still working
on everyone’s names and skill sets here…Keith, is it? You need to do a weather
story today. It’s going to lead the six. And Alva, I know you’ve always done a
spectacular job working the police beat. I’m leaning on you today. Take a
station vehicle and find something juicy at the cop shop; nothing else on your
plate all morning. Give Bernie a call after the noon and we’ll put you on the
board as TBA. I know you know how to find another lead for us.”
After the stories had been assigned, Macy turned her
attention to the producers.
She tried to infuse her entire presentation to them with the
same speed and urgency she was after in the newsroom. Energy crackled from her
own pores like an electric current. If her enthusiasm could spark just a few of
the people on this team, they’d have something.
“Producers, I’ll be meeting one-on-one with you all day. We
can talk about run-downs and teases. Let’s get going.” As they started to file
out, Macy decided to handle Pat Walters.
“Mr. Walters, since you’re concerned about hair and
wardrobe, let me give you a tip. You’re an autumn and that jacket you’re
wearing is in the winter family. It does nothing for you.”
“Bitch.”
Aha, name-calling. Exactly where she wanted him to go. He’d
be done within two weeks.
“That will be the last color palette advice you’ll get from
me.”
A few of the reporters stood there staring, riveted by the
exchange. Macy met their eyes, “You are professional journalists; look it.” She
walked out of the meeting and found an empty desk in the bullpen. Walter
slammed his office