Page 124
Story: Tempted By the Devil
My brows knit close. “What kind of phone call?”
“Well, I should say, I didn’t initially realize the phone call was about you. As far as I know, you didn’t put in for it.”
“Finkle, what are you talking about? I’m going to need specifics.”
“It was Prime Time DC. The executive producer Joe Germanotta called me to talk about an opportunity,” he explains. “It was for the hosting spot they currently have open. As you know, Baron did submit an audition package. But he wasn’t selected.”
“Wait… you can’t mean…”
“Yes, Portia. That is exactly what I mean. Mr. Germanotta wants you. He’s seen some of your recent segments, like the one you did about the meat-packing district shooting and he’s interested in giving you the position.”
“But…” I say slowly, blinking through my shock. “Prime Time DC films in Washington DC…”
Finkle gives me a puzzled stare. “Yes, it’s in the name of the show.”
“I can’t accept that position. My life is here in Newport.”
“It’s your decision to make. Here is his number. He would like for you to call him.”
Finkle returns to his computer screen, signaling the chat between us is over. I’m still in shock as I take the little scrap of paper he’s handed me and rise out of the chair. I do remember Baron mentioning he had applied for the Prime Time DC job, but I hadn’t ever imagined they would turn him down and express interest in me instead.
* * *
I’m waiting for Rafael in the living room when he comes home. He’s had such a long workday that my evening news segment with Metro finished and I made it to his penthouse before he did. We agreed we would have dinner at his place.
He walks in wearing another one of his tailored suits that fit him perfectly. He’s foregone a tie this time, his white shirt unbuttoned at the top. His grin lights up his handsome bearded face as he spots me on his sofa and comes over to drop a kiss on my lips.
“Just how I like to come home,” he says. “Withdolcezzawaiting for me.”
We sit down to a meal prepared by Rafael’s private chefs. Tonight they’ve made some kind of creamy mushroom pasta with roasted chicken that tastes so good we both have seconds. Rafael spools some of the handmade bucatini pasta around his fork and tells me how sometimes he forgets he’s hired authentic chefs from Italy.
“They cook a little too good,” he says.
“Tell me about it. I don’t think I can ever eat store bought pasta again.”
I’m stalling as we talk about everything from the delicious food to anecdotes about Rafael’s day and even a new TV show we might start watching together. Really, my head is full of thoughts about earlier in Finkle’s office.
I never called Mr. Germanotta. But I did keep the scrap of paper in my pocket. It feels like a ten-pound weight as I sit at Rafael’s table and we dine on pasta and white wine.
He’s started telling me about a prominent electronics company filing for bankruptcy and how all the stores in the city will be closing. Already other business magnates are salivating over the real estate that will become available.
I normally love hearing Rafael talk about things like this. It really demonstrates how sharp and perceptive he is and how he’s become so successful in the business world. I wish I could say I’m listening as acutely as usual, but really my mind wanders.
I’m distracted thinking about the job opportunity.
“So, are you going to tell me what’s troubling you?” Rafael asks suddenly. His tone is casual. His expression too. He plucks his wine glass off the table for a quick sip, then returns to his plate of pasta.
I’m so thrown that I almost choke on the bite I’m chewing. I reach for my own glass and swallow some extra wine. Hopefully it’ll help the lump of chicken stuck in my recently swollen throat.
For a split second, I consider denying that anything is troubling me. But Rafael knows me so well that there’s no use.
I might as well come clean.
I sigh and say, “Today I found out I have a new job offer.”
Rafael makes a noise of interest, signaling he wants me to continue. I take a deep breath and decide how to even explain.
“But it’s not a local opportunity. It’s that national news program. You know, the one that airs nightly on ANC.”
“Well, I should say, I didn’t initially realize the phone call was about you. As far as I know, you didn’t put in for it.”
“Finkle, what are you talking about? I’m going to need specifics.”
“It was Prime Time DC. The executive producer Joe Germanotta called me to talk about an opportunity,” he explains. “It was for the hosting spot they currently have open. As you know, Baron did submit an audition package. But he wasn’t selected.”
“Wait… you can’t mean…”
“Yes, Portia. That is exactly what I mean. Mr. Germanotta wants you. He’s seen some of your recent segments, like the one you did about the meat-packing district shooting and he’s interested in giving you the position.”
“But…” I say slowly, blinking through my shock. “Prime Time DC films in Washington DC…”
Finkle gives me a puzzled stare. “Yes, it’s in the name of the show.”
“I can’t accept that position. My life is here in Newport.”
“It’s your decision to make. Here is his number. He would like for you to call him.”
Finkle returns to his computer screen, signaling the chat between us is over. I’m still in shock as I take the little scrap of paper he’s handed me and rise out of the chair. I do remember Baron mentioning he had applied for the Prime Time DC job, but I hadn’t ever imagined they would turn him down and express interest in me instead.
* * *
I’m waiting for Rafael in the living room when he comes home. He’s had such a long workday that my evening news segment with Metro finished and I made it to his penthouse before he did. We agreed we would have dinner at his place.
He walks in wearing another one of his tailored suits that fit him perfectly. He’s foregone a tie this time, his white shirt unbuttoned at the top. His grin lights up his handsome bearded face as he spots me on his sofa and comes over to drop a kiss on my lips.
“Just how I like to come home,” he says. “Withdolcezzawaiting for me.”
We sit down to a meal prepared by Rafael’s private chefs. Tonight they’ve made some kind of creamy mushroom pasta with roasted chicken that tastes so good we both have seconds. Rafael spools some of the handmade bucatini pasta around his fork and tells me how sometimes he forgets he’s hired authentic chefs from Italy.
“They cook a little too good,” he says.
“Tell me about it. I don’t think I can ever eat store bought pasta again.”
I’m stalling as we talk about everything from the delicious food to anecdotes about Rafael’s day and even a new TV show we might start watching together. Really, my head is full of thoughts about earlier in Finkle’s office.
I never called Mr. Germanotta. But I did keep the scrap of paper in my pocket. It feels like a ten-pound weight as I sit at Rafael’s table and we dine on pasta and white wine.
He’s started telling me about a prominent electronics company filing for bankruptcy and how all the stores in the city will be closing. Already other business magnates are salivating over the real estate that will become available.
I normally love hearing Rafael talk about things like this. It really demonstrates how sharp and perceptive he is and how he’s become so successful in the business world. I wish I could say I’m listening as acutely as usual, but really my mind wanders.
I’m distracted thinking about the job opportunity.
“So, are you going to tell me what’s troubling you?” Rafael asks suddenly. His tone is casual. His expression too. He plucks his wine glass off the table for a quick sip, then returns to his plate of pasta.
I’m so thrown that I almost choke on the bite I’m chewing. I reach for my own glass and swallow some extra wine. Hopefully it’ll help the lump of chicken stuck in my recently swollen throat.
For a split second, I consider denying that anything is troubling me. But Rafael knows me so well that there’s no use.
I might as well come clean.
I sigh and say, “Today I found out I have a new job offer.”
Rafael makes a noise of interest, signaling he wants me to continue. I take a deep breath and decide how to even explain.
“But it’s not a local opportunity. It’s that national news program. You know, the one that airs nightly on ANC.”
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