He stood back to let the high school student intern precede him into the newsroom, assessing the young woman as he did. Cyrus Mayhew had chosen the recipient of his journalism internship on the basis of her writing, not her personality.
C. J. Dillon was bright, no doubt about that. She was also edgy and more than a little wary.
Suspicious, like Amanda.
The new intern had no reason for her suspicion, other than maybe the natural caution of a young black woman from a tough inner-city school toward the establishment, represented at the moment by him.
Amanda, on the other handwell, maybe she did have just cause. Hed told the truth when he said hed stopped outside the kitchen because hed realized her grandmother was upset. Hed just neglected to mention that hed heard the word scandal used in relation to her family. Or that all his instincts had gone on alert.
If he wanted to find out what scandal in the Bodine family would leave the grandmother in tears, hed better find a way to mend fences with Amanda.
Assigning the student intern to her might disarm her. From what hed seen of Amandas relationship with everyone from the mail room kid to the cleaning crew, taking in strays was second nature to her.
This way. He moved ahead of C.J. to lead her through the maze of desks in the newsroom. A few cautious glances slid their way. C.J. couldnt know that the looks were aimed at him, not her.
All right, so his staff didnt trust him. That was fine with him. He was here to turn this newspaper around, not make friends. He didnt need any more so-called friends who waited with a sharpened knife for him to make a slip.
Amandas desk was at the far end of the row. Focused on her computer, a pair of glasses sliding down her nose, she didnt see them coming. She wore her usual version of business casualwell-cut tan slacks, a silky turquoise shirt, a slim gold chain around her neck.
That was a bit different from the way shed looked at the beach house in an old pair of shorts and a Fort Moultrie T-shirt. He let his mind stray to the image. That had definitely been casual, to say nothing of showing off a pair of slim, tanned legs and a figure that would make any man look twice.
He yanked his unruly thoughts back to business. Amandas only usefulness to him was the opening she provided to the Coast Guard base. And given that tantalizing mention of scandal, to the Bodine family in particular.
He stopped a few feet from her desk, feeling the need for a little distance between them.
Ms. Bodine. Amanda, he thought, but didnt say.
Her gaze jerked away from the computer screen. The startled look she turned on him softened into a smile when she saw that he wasnt alone. No, the smile wouldnt be for him.
This is C. J. Dillon. C.J., Id like you to meet one of our reporters, Amanda Bodine.
Hi, C.J. Its nice to meet you. Amanda held out her hand. After a moment, the young woman took it gingerly.
C.J. is the winner of the journalism competition Mr. Mayhew set up in the local schools. The contest had been another of Cyruss bright ideas for drawing attention to the Bugle, and all the staff should certainly be awareofit.
Thats great. Congratulations. She focused on C.J. What did you win?
Obviously the staff, or at least this member of it, hadnt kept up-to-date. His decision was even more appropriate, then.
C.J. has received a six-week internship with the newspaper. A chance to find out if journalism is the right career for her, as Mr. Mayhew said in his editorial about the competition.
Which you should have read. The words were unspoken, but Amanda no doubt caught his meaning, since her lips tightened.
Youll be happy to know Ive decided to assign C.J. to work with you for the duration. Youre going to be her mentor.
I see. A momentary pause as Amanda turned to the young woman, and then came the smile that resembled the sun coming up over the oceanthe one she had yet to turn on him. Thats great, C.J. I look forward to working with you.
The ironic thing was that she probably did. For him, this brainstorm of Cyruss was nothing but a nuisance. He had no particular desire to have a high school kid wandering around his newsroom.
Still, paired with Amanda, she couldnt do much harm. And if Amanda could persuade her that skintight jeans and a skimpy top werent appropriate professional apparel, so much the better.
Dont I have anything to say about who I work with? The kid turned a belligerent frown on him. I dont want to run around town covering stuff like boat parades and charity races. Thats all she does.
Hed been so intent upon ridding himself of the problem that he was actually surprised when the kid spoke up. Irritation edged along his nerves. She was lucky to be here. Still, shed obviously done her homework and paid attention to bylines.
C.J., thats how everyone starts out, Amanda said quickly, as if to block out his response. Maybe she sensed his annoyance. Youre lucky you werent assigned to the obit desk. This is much better than writing obituaries, believe me.
C.J. didnt noticeably soften. Not much, she muttered.
Hey, we do interesting stories. In fact, this afternoon were heading down to Coast Guard Base Charleston for an interview. Youll have a chance to see the inside workings of the place.
We? He stressed the word. Taking Amanda along on interviews hadnt been part of his plan.
Amandas eyebrows lifted. My father is expecting us at three-thirty today. I hope that works for you.
He was tempted to make it clear that he didnt need or want her company. But if he did, that could put paid to any more help on her part. He might need her goodwill to gain future access.
Fine. He tried to look as if he welcomed her company. Ill see you then.
He turned away, startled to realize that on at least one level, he did.
Chapter Three
Amanda didnt know whether she was more relieved or surprised that Ross didnt fight her on the visit to Coast Guard Base Charleston, but hed headed back to his office without further comment. Maybe he was beginning to see that she had something to offer. If this worked out well, maybe hed
She looked at C.J., and she came back to earth with a thump. Ross hadnt changed his mind about her. He just hadnt wanted to get into a hassle in front of the new intern.
No, that didnt sound like Ross. He didnt mind coming off dictatorial, no matter who was listening.
Thinking of him had brought a frown to her face. Amanda replaced it with a smile for C.J. Although, come to think of it, she wasnt exactly feeling warm toward the young woman. What had she meant by her outspoken distaste for working with Amanda?
She nodded toward a chair at the vacant desk next to hersvacant since Ross had decided that its occupant was expendable. Pull that seat over, so we can talk.
Wearing a sullen expression, C.J. rolled the chair to Amandas desk and plopped into it, folding her arms.
Amanda had to hide a grin. C.J.s body language was eloquent. Still, shed have to learn that she couldnt call the shots at this point in her career. Any more than Amanda could.
I suppose youve been working on your school newspaper, she ventured, wondering what the key would be to opening up this abrasive personality.
C.J.s lips pressed together. After a moment, she shook her head. Have to be a teachers little pet for that, dont you? Anyway, Im not gonna write stupid stories about poster contests and decorating the gym. I want to write about important things. Thats why I entered the contest.
That hit a little too close to home. Sounds like we have something in common then, she said briskly. We both want to write more challenging subjects. Shed never really regretted retuning home, but the truth was that with the papers already well-established staff, it was tough to move up. Especially when the new editor refused to believe she could write.
C.J. glowered at her for another moment, and then she shrugged.
Amanda resisted the desire to shake her. Working with this kid might be an exercise in suppressing emotions.
Okay, then. Might as well go on the offensive, since nothing else seemed effective. How did you know what kind of articles I write?
Another shrug. I know what everyone who works for the paper writes. Its my thing, isnt it?
So shed put time and effort into this chance at success. Did she even realize that her attitude was working against her? With a more accommodating spirit and some advice on what to wear, C.J. could come out of this on the road to success.
Dismayed, Amanda recognized her crusading spirit rising. It was the same irresistible urge that led her to one lame duck after another, always convinced that somehow she could help them.
And she had, more often than not. Her brothers insisted that her victims, as they called them, responded because that was the only way they could get rid of her, but she didnt buy that. That hapless Bangladeshi student at College of Charleston would have been sent home before he finished his degree if not for her organizing his fight to stay. And the article shed written about endangered sea turtle nests had helped move along a new lighting ordinance.
Given C.J.s attitude toward her, it was unlikely that the young woman would be one of her success stories. Still, she had to try.
If you really mean to make journalism your career, an internship is a great place to start, especially getting one while youre still in high school. I didnt have one until the summer between my junior and senior years of college.
C.J.s eyes betrayed a faint spark of interest. Where did you go?
University of South Carolina. I interned at the Columbia paper that summer. Writing obits, she added, just in case C.J. had missed that part. What schools are you looking at?
C.J.s dark eyes studied the floor. Cant afford USC, thats for sure. Maybe I can work and take classes at Trident, she said, naming the community college.
Amanda opened her mouth to encourage her and closed it again. She didnt know what kind of grades C.J. had, or what her home situation was. It would be wrong for her to hold out hope without more information.
She hadnt ever had to doubt that shed be able to attend any college she could get into. Her parents had put a high priority on education for their four kids, no matter what they might have to sacrifice. C.J. might not be so lucky.
How long you been here, anyway? C.J. glanced around the newsroom, gaze lingering on Jim for a moment. As well-informed as she seemed, she undoubtedly knew that he wrote the kinds of stories Amanda could only dream about.
Three years. Shed had her reasons for coming home, good ones, but maybe it hadnt turned out to be the smartest career path.
She was closing in on her ten-year college reunion, and still near the bottom of the journalism ladder, writing stories no one read but the people immediately involved.
C.J. eyed her. If I had the edge you have, Id sure be doing better by the time I got to be your age.
Was C.J. the voice of her conscience, sent to remind her that it was time she accomplished something worthwhile? Or just an obnoxious kid who would alienate everyone who might be willing to help her?
She slapped one hand down on her desk, making the silver-framed photo of her family tremble. Now you look. She put some fire into her voice. This internship can be the chance of a lifetime for you, but not if you go into it determined to annoy everyone you meet. You may be bright and talented, but so are a lot of other people. Talent wont get you anywhere without hard work and plenty of goodwill. Got that?
She waited for the kid to flare up at her. C.J. pressed her lips together for a long moment. Finally she nodded. Yes, maam, she muttered.
Well, that was progress of a sort. Maybe C.J. had what it took to get something from this experience. She prayed so.
As for C.J.s opinion of herthere wasnt much she could do to change that, because like it or not, it was probably true.
Rosss finger hovered over the reply icon for a moment, then moved to delete. Finally he just closed the e-mail. Hed consider later what, if anything, he should say to his mother.
How long had it been since shed been in touch with him? A month, at least. And that previous message had been much the same as this latest onean impersonal recitation of his parents busy lives. A perfunctory question as to how he was doing. A quick sign-off.
As for his fatherwell, he hadnt heard from his father since he left D.C. The last thing Congressman Willard Lockhart needed was a son whod made the front page in the headline rather than the byline.
Ross? Do you have a minute?
He swung his chair around and rose, startled at the sight of the Bugles owner, Cyrus Mayhew. Of course. What is it?
Nothin much. Cyrus wandered in, moving aimlessly around the office.
Ross felt his hands tighten and deliberately relaxed them. When Cyrus got aimless and folksy, it was a sure sign there was something on his mind. He might not know a lot about his employer yet, but he did know that.
Cyrus picked up a paperweight and balanced it on his palm, then put it back. He moved to the window, walked back to the desk. Peered at Ross, blue eyes sharp beneath bushy white brows. Someone had compared Cyrus to Mark Twain, and he seemed to deliberately cultivate the similarity.
The tension crawled along Rosss skin again, refusing to be dispelled. Something special you wanted, sir?
Just wondering if you got that intern settled. Seemed like a nice youngstermaybe a little rough around the edges, though.
That was an understatement. I assigned her to work with Amanda Bodine.
Good, good. Amanda will take her under her wing. Might be a good role model for her.
She would, but somehow he didnt think that was all that was on Cyruss mind today.
Was there anything else? he prompted.
Well, now, I wondered whats going on with that tip we discussed. Anything in it?
Its too soon to tell.
Maybe hed have been better off to keep that tip to himself. Was Cyrus really the elderly gadfly, intent on keeping the establishment honest? Or would he, like so many others, sell anyone out for a big story?
His stomach clenched. The face of his former mentor and boss flickered through his mind, and he forced it away. It didnt pay to think about the mentor whod sacked him without listening to explanations, or the friend whod stabbed him in the back without a second thought.
But youre lookin into it, arent you, son?
Im following up on everything we have, which isnt much. An anonymous call from someone who said businessmen were paying graft to get contracts at the Coast Guard base. A couple of anonymous letters saying the same thing, but giving no other details.