“Natalie, do you know what your biggest problem is?” My editor, an impenetrable wall of a woman, looks at me with a condescending smirk. Clearly, she’s already made up her mind—begging or pleading won’t change a thing.
“My sharp tongue?” I slump in the chair, mentally tallying how many times I’ve been fired. I’ve lost count, but I think this makes number eight.
“See, Natalie, you’re even aware of the reason. You’re fired!”
What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right? No big deal. A journalist in this country can always find work—there’s no shortage of stories or people to write about. Honestly, I didn’t even like this newspaper! What a rag, their ratings are so pathetic it’s almost laughable. Let them keep their darling Molly, who can find a silver lining even in an overflowing dumpster! Ha! I’m not the least bit upset. So what if I’m broke? I’ll just borrow from Aidan… again. Big brothers are supposed to look out for their clumsy little sisters, aren’t they?
“Again?” Aidan rolls his eyes as he opens the door for me. He’s already figured it out from the look on my face. “Natalie, you’re hopeless. Are you trying to set a record? What are you going to tell your grandkids one day—‘Listen up, you little rascals, I got fired a hundred and four times!’? Do you think this is funny?”
“Oh, spare me the sarcasm. Grandkids? Please,” I flop into his favorite armchair, knowing full well he hates it when I do that. But I can’t help myself. It’s just who I am—how is that my fault? “Every time I get fired, it’s for telling the truth! I’m not the one with the problem—they are. There are so many idiots out there.”
“And you never get tired of pointing it out to every single one of them. Is that how grown-ups behave, Natalie? For heaven’s sake… you’re twenty-eight, and you still act like a reckless teenager!”
“You call those people grown-ups? The ones who put on fake smiles, wear hypocritical masks, twist the truth into lies, and feed nonsense to voters, customers at the store, even moms at school? Are those the adults you’re talking about, Aidan?”
“Life’s complicated, and everyone has their own version of the truth. Do you think you’re going to single-handedly fight for justice? Sometimes your ‘truth’ just comes off as tactless. If someone wants to have three mistresses, why tell his wife? Or why call a judge an old goat? You’ve got a terrible attitude, Natalie. I’m worried that one day I’ll open my door and find the cops standing there with your picture.”
“Enough with the lectures! Even Mom and Dad don’t bother with that anymore.”
“Because they don’t even talk to you!”
“Yeah, I’m the poison ivy in your perfect little garden. You’re the only one who puts up with me, poor thing, because I swore never to spill your secrets. You’re my one exception. See how much I love you? Aidan, I need a job and some cash. My cat’s out of food. Don’t shake your head like that—I’ll pay you back. I promise, this time I’ll try to be a good girl, keep my mouth shut, and just do my job.”
“You? Keep your mouth shut? They call you the most scandalous journalist in town, and you’re going to stay quiet? Hilarious, Natalie. Look, I’m choking with laughter. You’ll last exactly two days before you dig up some juicy scandal, rattle everyone’s nerves, get your thrill, and end up jobless again. You’re a walking disaster. Mom’s right—we’ll never get you married off. Guys will either run for the hills or drop dead from a heart attack. I’ll give you three hundred bucks, but only because I love that goofy bald cat of yours.” Aidan slaps the cash on the coffee table and types something quickly on his phone. “I’ve sent you the contact info for a buddy of mine. I think you could try your luck there. Though, from what I hear, there’s no shortage of people trying to get on Channel Five. Maybe they’ve got a thing for crazy.”
“Thanks for the compliment and the support,” I grimace in response. “Television? Seriously? They only hire bombshells, and I’m definitely not one of those.”
“Just give it a shot, Natalie! Turn on that killer charm of yours and use your brain for once!”
“Got anything to eat?”
“Oh, for crying out loud. Check the fridge. I’m late for a meeting.”
“With that married lady?”
“None of your business! Lock the door when you leave.”
“Love you, Aidan! You’re the best brother!” I shout after him.
…
My interview is scheduled for ten in the morning. I made an effort to dress as professionally as possible and even managed to show up on time. I assumed I’d be meeting with a manager, but when the receptionist informed me I’d be tested by the big boss himself, my heart sank a little. Crossing my fingers won’t help here—I’ve heard plenty about Austin Cooper, the CEO of Channel Five. He’s a real piece of work, and a womanizer to boot. Naturally, I’m not his type, thank goodness, but he’s definitely not going to hire me. I don’t have long legs, a size-D chest, or, most importantly, glowing references. I can’t stand arrogant types like him who think the world revolves around them. I never dreamed of working here anyway, so I won’t be heartbroken if I’m turned down. At least I can tell Aidan I tried with a clear conscience.
“So,” the big boss barely glances at the plain Jane sitting across from him before flipping through my resume. “Natalie, what can you offer us?”
“Relentless determination and a fresh perspective. I used to write for the Mississippi News.”
“Pretty bold stuff. I’ve had a chance to look through it. What other talents do you have? Were you too lazy to fill out the application properly? Do I have to drag information out of you with pliers? That’s rather unprofessional, Natalie.”
“I’m also exceptionally good at getting under people’s skin, driving them to tears or a full-blown meltdown,” I say, not sure why I felt the urge to throw in a snarky remark. Wasn’t I supposed to be on my best behavior? But after my comment, the big boss fixes me with a curious stare. Looks like I’ve piqued the interest of the commander of bombshells.
“You’re a fit for us!”
At first, I thought I’d imagined it, unable to believe my ears.
“What did you say, Mr. Cooper?”
“I’m hiring you on a pretty decent salary. But I’ll need more from you than just reports. I want you to make my brother’s life miserable. He’ll be your cameraman, by the way. Your knack for ruffling feathers is exactly what I need right now. After working with you, my brother should run from women like they’re the plague, and the mere thought of marriage should send him into a full-blown panic, complete with cold sweats and a nervous tic. Can you handle that?” As I sit there, jaw dropped, he scribbles something on a piece of paper and slides it toward me. “Once you achieve the desired result, on top of your weekly pay, you’ll get this bonus.”
“So… you’re saying I’ll get paid to drive this guy up the wall and make him paranoid?”
“Exactly. As long as no one finds out about our little deal, especially Josh.”
“And why do you hate him so much?”
“On the contrary, I love my little brother dearly. But marriage shouldn’t be in his life plan. And if that terrible idea ever creeps into his head again, he should think of you, shudder, cross himself, and kick that thought to the curb. I have a feeling you’re quite creative in this department and can produce a lasting effect.”
“How will you know when I’ve succeeded? When he’s on his knees, sobbing, begging you to get me out of his life?”
“Something like that. Are you in? The money’s good, and the job’s creative.” His gaze is the kind a devil might have used to tempt Eve in the Garden of Eden. I’ve never seen a paycheck like this in my life. And that’s not even mentioning the chance to work at the channel. So what if I mess with the guy a little? It comes naturally to me—I won’t even have to try. Maybe I’ll actually save him from a mistake. Marriage is just voluntary slavery—who needs weddings anyway? I’m dying to meet this Josh, and I don’t see anything wrong with accepting the offer.
“Yes, I’m in. When do I meet the target? I mean, when do I get my first assignment?”
“Good, Natalie. I’m glad we’re on the same page. But!” The big boss raises a finger, pausing dramatically. I’m not sure whether to look at his finger or into his eyes in this solemn moment. Usually, this is when the ‘what if’ gets emphasized. “If anyone finds out about our agreement, you won’t just lose this job—I’ll make sure you never work anywhere again. I’ve got connections everywhere. Do we understand each other?”
I’d love to tell you to go to hell, Austin, but lucky for you, I need this job. So I nod confidently, putting on my most loyal expression.
“Then Chloe will explain the material you’ll need to cover, and she’ll introduce you to Josh.” That’s it—I’m no longer of interest to him. His tone already says, “You’re dismissed, little mouse. Go work hard.” I’m not about to thank him for the opportunity either, because I don’t feel like it. Who knows what this Josh is like? Maybe I was too quick to agree. A fleeting thought crosses my mind—what if I’ve bitten off more than I can chew? It’s rare, but some people are impossible to crack. Their blood runs cold as ice, and you could spit in their face, and they wouldn’t even flinch.
Chloe, a chatty and sweet woman with a bold green mohawk, is a project manager. In the ten minutes it takes us to walk to the studio, she manages to outline the issue we’ll be covering. Blackmail and sexual harassment on social media—it’s a hot topic right now, and I’m already buzzing with ideas, though she tempers my enthusiasm a bit.
“All the questions you’ll ask the victims, which have been approved by the police and our boss, will be emailed to you. Minimal improvisation, Natalie! We’re strict about that here. Our channel has a specific code of conduct, and we stick to it. If you’re unsure, Josh will guide you. He’s sharp and incredibly talented at what he does. Oh, there he is! Josh!” Chloe waves to catch the attention of a tall, broad-shouldered, and… bearded model of Channel Five. If it weren’t for the beard—I’m not a fan, they remind me of something else—I’d call him handsome. His hands look strong and massive; my face could probably fit in one of his palms. His gaze is calm, almost detached. Well, let’s see how long you can keep that cool, Joshie.
“Josh, what do you think of my new hairstyle?” Chloe chirps, twirling her green head and flashing a grin that seems to show forty-five teeth. Normal people have thirty-two, but looking at Chloe, you’d swear she’s got more.
“Super trendy,” Josh replies lazily, barely glancing at her mohawk. “Is that why you called me over?”
“No, of course not. The boss hired a new journalist. You’ll be working together on this project,” Chloe says, instantly turning serious. “Natalie, meet Josh, your cameraman. Josh, this is Natalie. I hope you two hit it off and make us something amazing. Gotta run!”
I size up my target while he looks at me, probably waiting for me to say something. I need to probe him, figure out how deep his nerves are buried. He seems way too laid-back for my taste.
“When do we start?” I nod at him with a businesslike air.
“Most likely tomorrow. I’ve got some things to wrap up today. Besides, you should call and chat with the first victim, set up a convenient time, maybe even schedule a few at once so we can plan the next couple of days,” he says in a bossy tone, with a subtle hint of disdain that others might miss, but I catch it. The cameraman isn’t supposed to decide where and when we go—the journalist is! I’m supposed to be in charge, not this bearded walrus.
“Any other orders?” I stretch my lips into a sarcastic smile. I don’t know how I’m getting to him, but he’s already getting on my nerves.
“You can go over the materials and questions. Honestly, you’ve got a ton of work to do,” he shrugs, clearly ready to bolt.
“And that’s it?” I pour all my irritation into that last word.
“What else? Should I hug you and welcome you to the team?” He raises a thick eyebrow, not a trace of a smile on his face. Man, this guy is serious. I don’t know why his jerk of a brother thinks Josh is itching to get married. This walrus seems ice-cold toward women—he’s practically glaring at me like I’m a wild animal. Maybe he’s been scared off by girls since childhood, the way I was terrified of the boogeyman. I still can’t dangle my foot off the bed at night. Or maybe Josh already has a sweetheart, so he looks at everyone else like they’re invisible.
“I thought we’d get to know each other a bit better. To plan our workdays, it helps to know personal details. What if you can’t be late for dinner because your wife gets cranky, or you can’t start early because you’ve got a morning jog with your beloved dog? Shouldn’t I know stuff like that?”
“My personal life doesn’t interfere with work,” he says, completely unreadable. Good luck getting this guy to open up. “Just give me your number. I don’t want to chase down Green Head for it.” Even when he’s joking, he doesn’t crack a smile. I’m in for it now. “I’ll call you around five to confirm what time we’re meeting tomorrow.”
“Do you ever smile?” I pull out my phone, still watching his face for any sign of emotion—or rather, the lack thereof.
“I do.”
“On a schedule?”
“When something’s funny. Dictate your number—I’m in a hurry,” he says, catching my gaze with a hint of annoyance. His lips are hidden in that beard, and he’s frowning. I quickly give him my number, amazed at how his big fingers manage to hit the right keys. He shoves his phone into the back pocket of his jeans, turns his back to me, and strides off to wherever he’s so urgently needed. In this short interaction, I’ve drawn three conclusions. First: they’re definitely brothers—both insufferable. Second: this guy’s nerves are made of steel and buried deep. Third: I should’ve asked for double the bonus. I sold myself short. This is going to take some serious effort.
For the rest of the day, I can’t get him out of my head. I’m rattled because armored, closed-off people scare the hell out of me. But at five o’clock sharp, the punctual walrus calls, just as promised.
“What’s the plan for tomorrow?”
“What, no ‘Hey, Natalie’?” Yes, I’m insufferable. Let him know it.
“Didn’t we just see each other today?” he counters calmly.
“I’ve set up a meeting for nine in the morning,” I huff into the phone. “Can I count on you to pick me up, or is Mr. Punctual’s schedule booked to the minute?”
“Text me your address. I’ll be there at eight. Just don’t make me wait. I want the full picture. Do we only have one interview tomorrow?” His businesslike tone grates on me like a saw on violin strings. Just what I feared—I’ve stumbled into exactly what I dreaded. I can’t even joke with him or get under his skin. Where did this guy come from? I was hoping to at least get some intel on why his brother is so obsessed with keeping him single. But that was before I met this stick-in-the-mud in person. Now I’m dying of curiosity. I can feel it—there’s a deeper reason, especially if someone’s willing to shell out this kind of money.
“Josh, do you think we could be friends?” Instead of answering his question, I throw him off with mine. Too bad I can’t see his face.
“We need to work together, not be buddies. Those are two very different things,” he replies, the jerk.
“Got it. You think too highly of yourself because the CEO is your brother. I understand. Tomorrow, we’ve only got one interview. I’ll be ready two minutes before eight!” I hang up on a high note and turn to my cat for support. He always paws at me when I’m stressed. Such an empathetic little guy. That’s why my brother loves him so much—he’s even asked me to sell or give him my pet. But I don’t sell out my friends for any amount of money.
“Tell me, Abraham, how am I supposed to get along with these men? And they still insist the problem is me!”
My phone rings again. Beardy decided to call back. Did I actually get to him?
“Hello.”
“Hey, Natalie,” he says, clearly mocking me now. “Just to make sure we’re on the same page with our work, I think I need to ask you something too. Are you prone to outbursts and forgot to take your meds, or have they not diagnosed you yet?”
You little…
“Go to hell, Josh! See you tomorrow!” I slam the phone down, but Josh is persistent. He calls a third time. “What?”
“Natalie, I take my job very seriously, and I’m strict with myself and everyone around me. I have my own rules, and I stick to them. Also, I’m not an idiot, and I know my brother well. I did some digging, found out what kind of journalist you are, where you’ve worked, how many times you’ve been fired, and why. And you’re telling me Austin hired you for Channel Five?”
“I don’t get why that surprises you. Yes, the boss hired me because your perfect little team needs a breath of fresh air and some eye-catching stories. I’m an unconventional journalist with my own flair, and your brother saw value in that.”
“I’m smiling right now. Too bad you’re missing it. See you later!”
This thick-skinned, bearded blockhead decided to show his teeth! So, he can be rattled and bitten after all! Perfect, pretty boy. That actually makes me feel better, despite your little jabs.
“Did you hear that, Abraham? He thinks I’m a lousy journalist. For that, I’ll make his life a living hell—and I’ll get paid for it! Two pleasures for the price of one.”