Authors: Marie Ferrarella
He went through it slowly. “If you win the case, or the station makes Grimsley back down, I’ll walk away from the anchor position and go back to my old beat. Someone else might not be that willing to give it up.”
“But you would.” Some of the sarcasm had ebbed away, but she still couldn’t let herself believe that he was in her corner.
Pierce looked at her, wondering if he should have his head examined. It’d been a long time since he had put up with any sort of garbage because of a woman. And even then he hadn’t taken it. Why was he doing it now? She didn’t believe him, anyway.
“Yes.”
It didn’t make any sense. He was ambitious. This was a plum spot. “Why?”
He sighed, then fell back on a standard reply. If he was really going to have to explain it to her, then it would lose its meaning. “Being an anchor is too staid a position for me. I like fieldwork, remember?”
The wind was being taken out of her sails as she looked into his eyes. She knew she was being a fool, but she couldn’t help herself. “Why should I believe you?”
Damn, how could one woman turn him inside out like this? It didn’t seem fair. In the middle of their argument, all he could think about was touching her. About making love with her again. He was badly in need of an exorcist, because she was quickly becoming his demon, his ruling force.
“I think you have to start believing someone somewhere along the line,” he told her quietly, belying the magnitude of emotion he felt. “Whether you know it or not, Mandy, you’re one hell of an angry woman. You’re angry at your father, at Grimsley, at your ex-husband—“
Who was he to criticize her? Especially about them. “Not a winner in the bunch.”
His eyes held hers. “At me.”
It was hard not to look away from the accusation she saw there. Hard to talk when her mouth suddenly went dry. “I’m angry at you because I thought you used me.” She had used the past tense without meaning to.
He had no idea what made him even bother. Normally, he’d just walk away. Instead, he stayed. Like a jerk. “I didn’t.”
Even as she railed against him, she wanted to believe. Convince me, a small voice pleaded. “I’ve only got your word for that.”
Anger broke free of the bonds he’d tried to place on it. “That’s right, just my word. If that’s not good enough, then the hell with you.”
Leaving a curse hanging in the air, he turned on his heel and began to leave. But, overwhelmed with emotions he couldn’t sort out properly, he turned at the last minute and pulled her into his arms.
“Something to remember me by,” he said in answer to the startled look on her face. He knew it would only further annoy her to leave it like this. But she’d hurt him, hurt him more than he thought was possible, and he wanted to lash out at her.
The kiss was rougher than any they’d shared before. And with it came a savage passion that left her angry and weak at the same time.
She balled up her fists and beat at his chest, to no avail. The kiss would be over when he wanted it to be. That much he could dictate, even if he had no control over his heart any longer.
He practically thrust her from him, knowing if he didn’t, he’d give in to his craving and make love to her right there on the living room floor. He couldn’t think rationally when it came to her.
“There. Think on that.”
He slammed the door in his wake.
Amanda dragged both hands through her hair, thoroughly shaken. She tried to concentrate on just breathing and nothing else. It was impossible.
Angry or not, she was still incredibly, mind-numbingly
attracted to Pierce. It just made everything that much worse. When Jeff had betrayed her, she couldn’t stand the sight of him. His touch had left her cold.
Pierce’s touch made her want to beg for more.
Amanda slowly crossed to the den. She needed to do something, to keep busy. Taking out the Dallas white pages, she looked up the telephone number of the lawyer her father had given her. Whatever else happened, she couldn’t concede to Grimsley. Not without a fight. Not if she wanted to live with herself.
She was just about to call the number when she heard the doorbell. Amanda put down the phone and quickly crossed to the door.
“I’ve got it, Carla,” she called out. “Pierce—“ she began as she threw open the door. She was ready to rail at him, ready to throw herself into his arms. He had her so confused, she didn’t know whether she was coming or going. None of it made any difference, as long as he would just hold her.
“Sorry, Amanda, only me,” Paul said as he strolled in. He had a manila envelope tucked under his arm that she didn’t notice at first.
Amanda flushed as she closed the door. “He was just here; I thought he forgot something.”
Paul studied her face for a moment. “You, from the looks of it.”
Amanda closed her eyes as she sighed. “No lectures, okay, Paul? It’s been a hell of a rough day.” She led the way into the living room.
“Yeah, I can just imagine.” He looked around absently for Carla, expecting to see her there. With a wide grin, he held the manila envelope aloft. “This should make it all better.”
Amanda looked at him suspiciously. “What is it?”
“The Q status report.”
She stared at him. “So soon?”
He shrugged, enjoying her amazement. “Hey, you asked, I delivered.”
Now that she had it, Amanda suddenly felt afraid. What if the report bore out Grimsley’s claims? Then where would she be?
She took the envelope into her hands. “How did you get it?”
He lifted his shoulders in a cocky, nonchalant response. “A couple of people owe me favors. People owe them. It works out in the end.” He tapped the envelope. “Those are copies. I don’t know if it makes a difference.”
She shook her head. “No, it shouldn’t. What’s on them, should.”
“Well?” He waved at the envelope. “Then open it.”
Amanda took a breath and pulled back the flap.
Chapter Thirty Two
Tossing the envelope on to the sofa, Amanda quickly scanned the various sheets, looking for her name. She was only vaguely aware that Carla had reentered the room. Christopher came charging in ahead of her.
“Paul, what are you doing here?” Carla asked.
“Helping Amanda, I hope.” Paul nodded toward Amanda as he watched her.
Amanda glanced up to see that Carla had lit up like the sky during a Fourth of July celebration. At least something was going well around here, she thought. The next moment, she saw her name.
“Here it is.” Amanda wasn’t completely aware of crying out the words. She stared at the sheet bearing her statistics and felt a wave of fear undulate through her. Everything was riding on this one piece of paper.
Summoning strength, she pulled the sheet out and placed it on top of the pile. Like a diver at the edge of a thirty-foot board, she took a deep breath, then took the leap. As she scanned the dozen or so questions, Amanda could feel her heart sink in her chest.
The rating was low.
The dive was completed. Amanda felt as if she were standing at the bottom of a deep, dark well, its walls too slick to afford her the merest hold. There was no chance of climbing out.
“Here.” Amanda handed the multi-paged report back to Paul.
The cameraman didn’t take it from her. “Don’t you want to go on?”
“What’s the point?” Amanda sank down on the sofa. Christopher plopped down next to her. He was quiet for once as he wove his little fingers through hers. It was as if he somehow sensed she needed comforting. Amanda stroked the boy’s head, grateful that she had him in her life. “Grimsley wasn’t lying.”
Paul’s eyes twinkled as he winked at Carla. “No, not about that sheet.”
Amanda’s head jerked up. “What do you mean ‘that’ sheet?”
Taking up the pages, Paul set them on the coffee table and fanned the sheets out as if the report were a giant deck of cards. “There’s two sets.”
Amanda was on her feet as quickly as if she’d just been shot out of a cannon. “What?” She grabbed the reports back eagerly.
“The real ones are in the back.” He added a little drama to his voice, preening for both the women in the room. But only Carla was impressed.
Amanda was too busy rifling through the rest of the sheets until she found another one with her name on it. “Got it!”
She tossed the others onto the sofa. Christopher dove for them. But Carla was quicker. She scooped them up before he had a chance to turn them into so much confetti.
Unlike the first sheet, this one had her scoring a high grade. Amanda took back the other sheets from Carla and scanned them quickly. Hers was one of the highest scores in the pack. Extreme pleasure shot golden arrows through her. She didn’t need adulation, but it was gratifying to know that people responded favorably to her.
Amanda carefully folded the sheet in half, feeling vindicated. The bastard. The unspeakable bastard. He’d rigged this somehow.
She smiled triumphantly at Paul. “Grimsley lied.”
Paul looked at her. “Of course he lied. What did you expect?”
Carla looked at Paul, confused. “But how can he get away with lying like that? Don’t people see this?”
“Not usually. It goes to heads of departments on request. To some it’s everything. To others—“ He shrugged. “It’s as important as you want it to be. As for how he could lie about it, the answer is easy.”
Paul slipped his arm around Carla’s shoulders. There was something about her simple honesty, her unassuming manner, and her infectious laugh that made him feel at ease, that let him be himself. Paul felt no need to pretend around Carla.
“Nobody challenges him, for one thing.” He looked at Amanda. “Until Amanda, of course. Grimsley does a great job and he delivers, which is all the big guys at the station care about. So they let him act like a dictator.” He looked down into Carla’s face. “Everyone’s afraid of a dictator, especially one with backing.”
“Thanks, Paul.” Amanda gave him a quick hug. “I owe you. Big time.”
Paul waved away her gratitude as if what he’d done was nothing special. “Hey, just go after that son of a bit—“ He glanced down toward Christopher. “Gun,” he amended. “For all of us. Nothing we’d rather see than Grimsley taken down a few pegs.” He grinned broadly as a thought occurred to him. “Unless it’s seeing him fired.”
Amanda picked up the rest of the reports. She was going to need to show the lawyer both sets. It would back up her claim regarding the man’s duplicity. “I don’t want anyone fired. I just want my job back.”
Carla looked at her eagerly. “You going to confront Grimsley?”
There was nothing she’d like better than to light into the man, but though sweet, it would be very shortsighted. Victory would be over within a moment, and Grimsley would just look for another excuse to get rid of her. And this time, it might stick. Ultimately, it boiled down to him against her, a ratings wizard against a lone anchorwoman. What she needed was to use this to build a case so that he could never threaten her position again.
“Maybe, but not yet,” she said slowly. “I want to talk to a lawyer about all this and handle it right.” She shoved the papers back into the envelope. “At the moment, it’s just my word against his.”
“But you’ve got the papers,” Paul protested. Why had he gone to all that trouble if she wasn’t going to use them?
Amanda shook her head. “It’s not enough. I want him never to bother me again. I need legal muscle.”
Paul nodded. It made sense. “So, what’s the next move?”
She was not above setting scenes and employing a little drama. She wanted to lull Grimsley into a false sense of security. “I clear out my desk and make Grimsley think that I’ve thought it over and decided to leave with my tail between my legs. I want the element of surprise on my side.”
She had planned to slide in and out quietly, perhaps let one person see her to carry the word to Grimsley.
But it wasn’t that easy.
Because of the heated words that had been exchanged between her and Grimsley and the nature of the situation, Amanda realized that she had suddenly become newsworthy herself.
When she emerged from her office, her belongings stuffed into one large box, she found the hall crowded with people. Most were people she worked with. Others she recognized from broadcasts on at other hours. They had one thing in common: They all had questions for her.
The first volley was fired before she could even close
her door. “Are you really going to sue the station, Amanda?”
Saying nothing was the best approach for the time being. The element of surprise was one of the few weapons she had at her disposal. She didn’t want anyone carrying tales to Grimsley yet. “I haven’t worked that out yet.”
“How about Grimsley?” Someone else asked. “Going after him?”
Again, she wanted to say yes. After all, these were people she worked with, had spent time with. But it wouldn’t be prudent. Amanda maintained a stoic expression. “I’ll let you know.”
A woman she didn’t know by name but recognized from the weekend news blocked her way. “Any truth to the rumor that you’re filing sexual harassment charges against him, Amanda?”
Stunned by the aggressiveness, both of the question and of the woman who asked, Amanda could only stare.
A reporter in the rear shouted, “Did he try to get you to put out in exchange for staying at the station?”
What were they doing? These people knew her. Why were they acting as if she were a raw piece of meat thrown their way and they were hungry Dobermans? “Well, he—“
Janine, one half of the team from the early morning talk program, smirked at her. “Just how did you get your anchor job?”
Amanda found the murmuring of voices and what they were insinuating sickening.
“Yeah, it’s a long way from a tiny news station in New Mexico to the six o’clock spot in Dallas,” Kyle Williams,
a would-be anchor who was still doing the sports at eleven, agreed. “Just what kind of’ ‘dues’ did you pay to get here?” It was evident from his question just what he thought the answer was.
Amanda turned, incensed by the implication. Juggling the box, she managed to free one hand to push him out of her way. “Long, hard years up a road we all know. Lots of lean times and then a little luck.”