CHAPTER 3
Jennifer
I spent the rest of the morning going through orientation. I met with Human Resources to fill out some paperwork and then moved on to some down-the-hall conference room where another straight-laced HR person explained company benefits and policies to a group of new hires like me. One thing she made loud and clear was that the Conquest Broadcasting Company (CBC) did not look favorably upon fraternization though it wasn’t banned; what was important was that you reported any such liaison to HR so they could evaluate if it was affecting your job performance. I had nothing to worry about. I was engaged to my college sweetheart, Bradley Wick, DDS. The love of my life. The lecture was long and boring, and before long, my mind was wandering. My heart hammered. I was once again reliving last night’s kiss with a total stranger. Those beautiful lips crashing on mine, sending me orbiting into space. My body heated with hot tingles everywhere. I couldn’t let it go. Or stop thinking about that man. I gave myself a hard mental kick as the HR rep told us we’d now be going on a tour of Conquest Broadcasting.
Occupying the lot of a defunct movie studio in Culver City, the complex was vast, almost as big as a college campus. In addition to the towering building where I would be headquartered, there was another rambling building that housed a cafeteria, gym, and state-of-the-art theater for screenings. Scattered across the campus were numerous soundstages where they shot television series, including some for SIN-TV. I instantly recognized the set for one of the network’s porn game shows—Wheel of Pain. I’d forced myself to watch it once. Big-boobed women and their endowed partners were strapped together on a wheel and had to fuck while the wheel spun around. As the wheel turned, the contestants were subjected to all forms of torture like ice cubes, insects, and nauseating speeds. Whoever lasted the longest was the winner and won money and a trip to Vegas. What sicko came up with this concept? Watching it once in my lifetime was one time too many. I was glad the job of overseeing current programming belonged to someone else. Thank God, I didn’t have to deal with this show or the rest of the pornographic crap that filled the lineup.
After orientation, I settled into my new office. Adjacent to my new boss’s corner suite on the main floor, it was the size of a closet consisting of the following: a utilitarian blond wood desk with a computer and phone, a matching bookshelf and credenza that housed a small outdated TV, and a pair of basic armchairs. It was sterile and claustrophobic, but at least, there was a window overlooking the parking lot. I sat down behind my desk and assembled the few possessions I’d brought along. On it, I set a framed photo of my parents and another of my fiancé Bradley and me taken at one of his dentist conventions. Opening the top drawer, I lined up the three T’s—toothpaste, toothbrush, and Tampex—along with a box of SpongeBob Band-Aids. Accident-prone me went through Band-Aids as fast as some people went through tissues. I stood up and strode over to the bookshelf next to the door. I placed the two other possessions I’d brought along on the top shelf—my cherished Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary and vintage Roget’s International Thesaurus—both gifts from my dad, a retired English professor. Heading back to my desk, I promised myself I would try to personalize my new office. Maybe buy a few framed posters and hang them up on the sterile white walls. Yeah, some art would liven the place up and give it a little personality.
At noon, I met up with my best friend Libby in the commissary. She and I were roommates and had been since our college days at USC. One year ahead of me, she had landed a position at Conquest Broadcasting—as a Research Analyst in the Consumer Insights division—and had been the one who encouraged me to apply for a job here. She’d raved about the creative working environment, the benefits, and the cutting-edge personnel. And the great low-cost food at the cafeteria.
Over delicious cheese burritos, Libby fired away, never one to hold back.
“So, is Blake Burns as big an asshole as everyone says he is?”
I was taken back by her question, expecting something more along the lines of “How’s your day going?”
I hesitated before answering. The answer was a loud “yes,” but Mr. Burns had had an unexpected effect on me. While I had googled him and knew he was good-looking with that thick mass of dark hair, I just didn’t expect him to be that good-looking. Okay, breathtaking. Tall, built, and the face of a movie star. He was not my type—the brainy preppy type—but the way his sapphire eyes held me in a fierce gaze did something to me. I was a heated up, nervous wreck throughout the interview, and thanked my lucky stars I’d taken some drama courses so I could get through it.
“So . . .” Libby’s inquisitive voice brought me back into the moment. I loved Libby to death, but I needed to be careful with my answer. Tell Libby, tell the world. My curly redhead friend was a gossip, though loveable one, and proud of it.
“Actually, he was very nice and very professional.” Arrogant asshole. “He’s given me a very challenging first assignment.”
“Like what?” asked Libby, her hazel eyes wide. She forked a chunk of her burrito and put it to her mouth.
“I have to analyze ratings and SIN-TV’s morning lineup.”
Libby swallowed and scrunched her face. “The ratings suck in that daypart. I keep telling Blake we should do some focus groups to find out what’s going on. But he’s very anti-research. He believes one should program by instinct, and his instincts are never wrong.”
I digested Libby’s information. My instinct told me that Mr. Burns’s instincts were wrong. I quirked a sly smile at my friend. “Well, we’re going to change that.”
“How?”
“Right after lunch, I’m going to start figuring that out,” I replied before taking the last bite of my burrito.