Page 1 of Dirty News
Shooting for an anchor position on the Evening News for the new Network WOLF, Lila Banks is fresh out of college. She’s a tall, lithe blonde with dreams of making it big in the newsindustry.
Shooting for the same anchor position is a newcomer to television, Duke Cofield, a former Wide Receiver for the New York Jets. He’s thirty-two, mature, and as sexy as theycome.
The two are vying for the same spot, Duke’s used to fighting for what he wants, but Lila has to learn how to play the game she’s newto.
Will they find a compromise while finding love? Or will the strict new rules their boss lays down defeat themboth?
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ChapterOne
Lila
New York,NewYork
WOLF, the newest television network that had everyone in the industry buzzing, had calledme.
Me!
A woman named Mrs. Baker had called to ask me if I’d be interested in flying clear across the country from Los Angeles, California, to interview for one or more positions at a new network named WOLF. They only wanted new faces—new talent with promising futures ahead ofthem.
Being a recent graduate from UCLA with a degree in communications—with a 4.0 grade average, I might add—had put me on their radar. With financial help from dear old Mom and Dad, I’d trekked across the country—well, maybe not trekked, but it was a long trip, and I took it allalone.
WOLF put me up in a nice hotel—no, nice isn’t the right word. One would not call the Park Hyatt New York merely nice. Extravagant, luxurious, fantastic—all those words fit the fine accommodations much more accurately. I was overcome with awe as I strode into the lobby of the enormoushotel.
To be perfectly honest, I can’t recall much of anything after the moment I stepped off the plane at JFK. My head went light, and not from the two glasses of wine I’d had while in the air, either. It had much more to do with the fact that my dreams were finally becoming a reality—playing themselves out in reallife.
It had been my dream ever since I was a kid to be the woman on the television telling the world the latest news. Bold, I know. I would engage my family—Mom, Dad, my twin sister, Lilly, and our older brother, Lonnie—with my charm and wit as I sat on a chair behind a TV tray in our modest living room. Fueled by my active imagination, I’d read them the news, written by my own hand. My kind ofnews.
Being only a kid, my news concerned all the things only a ten-year-old would care about—what the cafeteria served that day and how it had affected me and the other children in my class, or how doing algebra in later years of my education wouldn’t benefit students like me, artistic creatures with no mathematical goals. And of course, how being good all year long so Santa would bring children toys was a scam, since he only ever brought each of us in the Banks household one present. One toy for a year’s worth of being good didn’t make sense, mathematically. And I wasn’t even good at math and knew that much. You know, hard-hittingjournalism.
After regaling my family for years with my newscasts, I headed out west, away from small-town New Mexico to seek the education I would need to fulfill my lifelong dream. UCLA welcomed me with open arms, and I flourished there, joining extracurriculars like the school newspaper while still excelling in myclasses.
And now New York had called me into its bosom to drink from the nectar only it could give me: an anchor position at a brand spanking new network named WOLF. After getting the call, I decided my totem animal must be a wolf. Never one to delve much into the Native American beliefs of things like totem animals, I thought it just might be time to do so. I did have one-sixteenth Seminole running through my veins, thanks to an errant great-great-great-grandfather who had dabbled with a woman who later became my great-great-great illegitimate grandmother. Or, I became her illegitimate granddaughter; not real sure how all thatworks.
So, with the fearlessness and ferocity of a wolf, I got on an airplane, alone, trying not to be afraid, to come to New York City to find my dream. The dream of sitting behind a real anchor’s desk, with a real camera trained on me while I told everyone watching what was going on in theworld.
I’d never wanted anything more. Well, there was that one pair of boots I’d found on sale that one time. Now that was a real want—no, need. I’d needed those boots, and being just ten bucks short was too damncruel.
But I’d gotten over my heart-breaking loss of those fabulous boots, all while holding fast to my dream of broadcast stardom. That steadfast desire paid off and landed me where I was that fateful day—in a cab, heading through the busy, packed streets of downtown NewYork.
I’d lived on campus at UCLA for four years. I thought I knew what a crowd of people was. I’d just thought JFK airport was packed. The hotel seemed packed, too. But I’d had no idea what packed looked like until I saw the streets and sidewalks of downtown New YorkCity.
When the cabbie pulled to the side of the road and looked back at me to bark, “$57.50,” I knew my day hadcome.
Pulling three crisp twenties out of my small purse, I found my hands shaking. “Here you go, sir. I hope the rest of your day is nice. Keep the change.” I got out of the backseat and took in a big sniff of stale air before taking that first step toward the beginning of mycareer.
My mouth felt dry. My hands, sweaty. My tummy, knotted. Two glass doors stopped me. A ‘WO’ on the left door, and a ‘LF’ on the right—WOLF.
There I was, at the doors that I prayed I’d soon get to walk through every workday. As I went inside, I noticed there was hardly a soul around. One lone young woman sat at a large receptiondesk.
Her dark brown eyes moved up from the cell in her hand. “Hi.”
“Hi.” My feet somehow managed to take me to her without much instruction from me. My head wasn’t in it at all. No, my head was firmly in the clouds. “Um, I’m, uh …” My stomach rumbled, making me look down atit.
“Hungry?” the woman asked with a grin. “Ornervous?”
“That one.” Her little joke brought me closer to earth. “Whew, is it hot in here, or is it just me?” I pulled the neck of my blouse to fan myself abit.
