I was reluctant at first to even accept the offer to interview for the EP spot on Cole’s show. I mean, come on, I knew I wasn’t being asked to interview because of my experience or skills. I had produced live newscasts for years, but producing a recorded, one-hour talk show would be a whole different ballgame. Not to mention that I would be working with Cole again, a man I hadn’t heard from in almost two months.

“I can assure you, Miss Rhodes, if you were not qualified to handle the job you and I would not be talking,” Harry Prescott said in a tone that told me he wasn’t bullshitting. He did not impress me as a bullshitter, or the kind of guy who would acquiesce to a request just to keep his talent happy, unlike me who had hired Bryant’s niece as an assistant just to get him off my back.

He continued on, “Cole Walker is the talent, but Kingston Television owns the show. We would never hire someone based solely on a personal recommendation or a past relationship. So, the question is, do you want to fly to Los Angeles on Monday to chat with me in person or not?”

It took me less than two seconds to say yes, not just because I was interested in the job, but because I might see Cole again, even though Prescott made it clear that Cole would not be in the interview. I had cried myself to sleep many nights over the way things ended. At the very least, maybe this trip would give us the chance to just shake hands and put our relationship behind us once and for all.

* * *

Harry Prescott was tall and lanky and impeccably dressed in a tailored blue pinstripe suit and bright yellow tie. He was sitting behind a large mahogany desk in an office that made mine look like a broom closet. He came around the desk and warmly shook my hand, and directed me to sit in a red leather chair across the desk from him. As we settled in, the assistant who had escorted me back appeared again to set a silver tray on the desk that held two china cups and a silver coffee service and fixings. She poured two cups of coffee while Harry sat smiling at me, then she left the room.

“So, how was your flight?” he asked as he slid one cup toward me and picked up his own. “And how was the hotel?”

“The flight was fine and the Four Seasons is amazing, thank you,” I said, picking up the coffee to drink it black. “I appreciate the gesture.”

“The gesture?” he asked, his manicured gray eyebrows arching.

“I doubt you fly every candidate first class and put them up at the Four Seasons,” I said. “That’s all.”

“Ah, you think that you are getting special treatment because you and Dr. Walker are old friends.”

“Am I not?” I asked the question with an expectant smile. “Oh well, it was nice to feel special for a while.”

“So, let’s talk about your job at WNN,” he said, setting the cup aside without ever drinking from it. He steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them. “Are you happy there?”

I took a careful sip of the steaming coffee and shrugged. “Happy enough, I suppose.”

“If you were happy there, you wouldn’t be here,” he said, holding out his hands, smiling. “Unless you are here just out of curiosity, of course.”

“Let’s assume it’s a little of both,” I said. I glanced around the room. “Is Cole going to join us?”

“No, as I said over the phone, he is not involved in initial interviews,” he said, picking up the cup again. He brought it to his lips and took a careful sip. “Can I be frank with you, Miss Rhodes?”

“Of course.”

“You’re here because Dr. Walker said you were an amazing EP and worthy of a conversation. However, the ultimate decision as to who is hired rests solely on me. So, let’s just forget your relationship with Dr. Walker and conduct ourselves like two professionals who do not have him as a mutual acquaintance, because I assure you, I would never hire anyone simply because the talent suggested I do so. Are we clear?”

I smiled at him. I liked this guy. He reminded me of a tall, skinny Ed. I said, “Clear as a bell, Mr. Prescott. I would love to forget that I know Cole Walker, I mean, for the sake of this interview.”

“Good,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s start again…”

* * *

The interview lasted less than an hour. Prescott had a copy of my resume and he spent most of that time staring at it and asking me inane questions about my career. I got the feeling that it wasn’t really an interview at all. It was just Prescott going through the motions so he could report back to Cole that he had indeed interviewed me as promised, and could now mark me off the list.

I left feeling a little dazed and confused. I didn’t get to see Cole, nor did I have a clue if I really had a shot at the job. Hell, I didn’t even know if I wanted the job. Would I take it if it were offered to me? I honestly did not know.

I didn’t even bother going back to the Four Seasons to check out. I had a sneaking suspicion that things might turn out this way, so I had brought my bag with me.

I caught a cab to the airport and switched my ticket to an earlier flight. Ten hours later, I was back home. Life goes on.