Page 10 of Deal with the Devil
“I wanted to make it clear where we stand. Hopefully so we’re on the same page. You’ve been a welcome addition to the Primetime team, and we’d love to keep you on,” he explains, his lips slanting in a lopsided grin. “It’s obvious you’ve got a lot of talent, sweetheart. Anybody with eyes can see that.”
My grip tightens on my glass. Portia remains silent, but even on the TV screen, I can tell she’s barely holding back. I can see the slight dilation of her pupils and flare of her nostrils.
“It’s best if you leave the big decisions to men like me,” he finishes. “And you do what you do best. Smile and read the lines on the script, alright? It’s so easy, even Bexley does it—and he gets paid millions. You’ll be there someday too, sweetheart. If you play the game correctly. Are we on the same page?”
For a couple of seconds that drag on, it seems like she’s tempted to tell him to shove his script up his ass. I know Portia James well enough to read her mind by looking at the expression on her face.
But then, at the very last second, she decides against it. She forces on a smile, blinking away the anger and offense and sweetening her voice.
“Of course,” she answers. “I understand.”
“I knew you would. You came highly recommended for a reason.”
Only Joe is naive enough to believe she’s serious and not simply telling him what he wants to hear. Portia glares at him as he turns his back and walks away.
I’m glaring at him through the TV screen.
I drain the last of the cognac, resorting to crunching on ice once it’s all gone.
My flight into DC isn’t supposed to get in until an hour before the Dominion Gala started tomorrow night, but I’ve decided there’s a last-minute change of plans.
As it turns out, I have a pitstop to make on my way to the gala.
It’s time I pay my employee Joe Germanotta a visit and make sure he knows who he works for, and that his boss doesn’t appreciate when he talks down to his woman…
3
PORTIA
On Tuesday morning,one of the assistants stops me to let me know Joe Germanotta wants to see me in his office.
“He said it’s important,” says the college intern. Her eyes round. “Urgent.”
I sigh, barely fighting off the urge to roll my eyes.
After yesterday’s broadcast, Joe pulled me aside to let me know in not-so-subtle terms that he didn’t appreciate any attempt to change the show format, and I was better off smiling and reading off the script, no questions asked.
He called mesweetheart.
It took everything in me to not only refrain from snapping at him but to keep from kneeing him in the balls. I had to remind myself I had gone thirty-four years without seeing the inside of a jail cell and I had no intention of doing so now.
It takes similar levels of strength when addressing the college intern. I give a terse nod, muttering a quick response about dropping by his office, and then do my best to hide my scowl.
Finkle and Baron were difficult to work with at times, but they were more or lesstolerable.
Joe Germanotta has proven to be the opposite.
Just another thing to make me miss Metro News…
I take my time before I finally decide to visit his office, a large room with glass walls. He flags me down the moment he sees me.
“Portia, sweetheart, there you are! I told Ashley to track you down as soon as possible. Figures she’d take her sweet time doing so. Anyway, it turns out we need you to fill in at the Dominion Honors Gala tonight.”
“You need me to… what?”
“You heard me—we need you to represent ANC tonight at the annual Dominion Honors Gala.”
I double blink. “But Barry was going to do it. He does it every year.”
