Chapter 4

Because we were together so much we learned a lot more about each other. I was an only child, and my parents were killed in a car accident when I was on my second tour. I had one grandmother left. Jen came from a large family, five siblings, three sisters and two brothers. She was the second oldest, and her two youngest sisters were in middle school. Family was important to her, and she didn’t get to visit as much as she wanted to. When I asked why she said she couldn’t afford it.

Her contract was almost up by then. I talked to the powers that be, telling them I expected to see her pay go up substantially. They balked until I reminded them my contract was running out as well, and we were being courted by stations all over the country, together and seperately. “We make a good team, so if she goes, so do I. Think about it.”

Jen was over the moon when they offered more money. I think I hurt her feelings when I laughed. “Tell them no. Tell them you deserve at least what I make, maybe more. After all, you’re the rising star. I’m just your sidekick. I haven’t told you, but I’ve heard from people at other stations, here and across the country. They’re interested in us as a package. Bring that up in conversation and see what management says.”

In the end, she didn’t get what I was making, but still got an almost thirty-five per cent raise. She was really happy, for about a week.

We were coming back from a piece on women’s rights. She was quiet, withdrawn, and had been for several days. “What’s going on, Jen?”

She roused herself, looking confused. “What?”

“You’ve been ... off, for several days now. You’ve got something heavy weighing on you. Want to share? Maybe I can help.”

I knew she shared a large apartment with two friends, the sweet Lindsey and the insufferable Jasmine. I’d met both when Jen brought them in for a tour of the station, even got them seats for the midday talk show. She was dead on in her assessments, Lindsey was inpressed by everything while Jasmine seemed bored out of her mind. She only perked up when Jen was telling them what network anchors made.

“What do you make, Dean?”

“Enough. What do you do, Jasmine?”

“I’m the Personal Assistant to Mr. James Moody, CEO of Blanche Industries.”

She said it with pride, like I was supposed to know who that was. I had no idea, and decided to ruffle her feathers a little. “A Personal Assistant? Is that like a glorified secretary?”

She flamed red, and Lindsey couldn’t help herself, giggling at her reaction. “I assure you, it’s much more than that, and the pay is much better. Plus, I get to meet and socialize with very important people.”

Jasmine waited for me to make appropriate approving noises. “Socialize? You don’t have regular business hours? How much time do you put in a week, does it average out to a decent wage? I’m glad you like it. Sounds like an interesting life, though. Maybe Jen and I should do a piece on you, show how hard work and dedication sometimes pay off. I’m sure your boss would love the publicity.”

The woman frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Mr. Moody is a very private person.” A CEO that doesn’t like free publicity? Something smelled, and I dropped the whole conversation.

Back to the present, and Jen was sniffling a little. “Jasmine is moving out! Seems her boss wants her in a private apartment, so she can be available more quickly. He’s even paying for it. Even with my raise, Linds and I can’t afford to stay. She dropped the bomb three weeks before the lease runs out, and was gone the next day. We’ve been scrambling, but can’t find anything decent. We’ve got two weeks before we’re homeless.”

I felt bad for her. I’d never had to struggle for housing. I lived at home until I enlisted, then Uncle Sam housed me, and with the insurance money from my parents I could afford just about anything. I got out just as the economy was starting to rebound, so I decided to buy. I looked at several new homes, and thought about building, but I just couldn’t find anything that suited me.