Jenna lowered her forkful of salad. “Where are you sending your resumes?”
“I sent one to the Horn.” Andrea watched her companion chew and swallow a mouthful of salad. Was that bowl of lettuce with pieces of chicken actually filling?
“They can’t afford you.”
Andrea rushed to swallow her coffee before she choked on it. “I work for Sports. I’m sure the starting salary of every other paper in the city is almost twice what I’m making now.”
Jenna held Andrea’s gaze. “And you’re worth more than that. You’re aiming too low.”
Andrea ignored the wrap in her hands and stared at the veteran reporter. “You think those other papers rejected me because they thought they couldn’t afford me?” That was absurd.
Jenna swallowed her ice water. “You sent them your resume with clippings of your exclusive interview with Jackie Jones, your expose on the Insider’s identity, and your breaking news that Gerry Bimm may be banned from the NBA, right?”
“I didn’t include the article about Gerry. It hadn’t run at the time.”
Jenna waved her fork. “It doesn’t matter. The other two clips are strong. Those editors took one look at your work and knew they couldn’t afford you. And, even if they did hire you, a bigger paper would come along and steal you away in a matter of months.”
Andrea laughed as she picked up her coffee. “I love your fantasy world. It’s very pretty there.”
Jenna didn’t even crack a smile. “I’m serious.” She stabbed some more lettuce and the last cube of chicken. “You think the papers aren’t giving you the time of day because of that Jackie Jones incident four years ago, don’t you?”
Andrea stiffened. Her turkey wrap turned to cardboard in her mouth. She washed it down with coffee. “What other reason could it be?”
“I just gave you the other reason. And I’m right.”
Andrea frowned at her. “You think the newspapers don’t think they can afford me. So what am I supposed to do about that?”
“Aim higher.” Jenna pushed her salad plate away from her.
The plate still had several lettuce leaves and slices of cucumber and green peppers. Jenna would probably be able to finish them off if she had some nice blue cheese dressing. She considered the other woman’s delicate frame. The dressing probably would be too many calories.
Andrea lifted her coffee cup. “Do you think I should send my resume to the Times?”
“Yes.” Jenna drained her water.
Andrea finished her coffee. She’d fantasized about working for The New York Times one day. She’d packed that dream away three years ago. “I’m not sure.”
Jenna sighed as though she cared. “The industry isn’t holding your past against you anymore. You’re the one who can’t move on.”
“After I lost my job because of the Jackie Jones article, it took me more than a year to get another one. Every paper slammed the door in my face.”
“Jackie’s grandfather asked them to. That won’t happen again.” Jenna leaned toward her. “Be bold, Andrea. Take a chance on yourself.”
Andrea gave Jenna a hesitant nod. “All right. What could it hurt?” She watched Jenna’s intense frown ease into an encouraging smile.
She couldn’t believe how nervous she was at the thought of sending a resume to The New York Times. Before this conversation with Jenna, Andrea thought she’d forgiven herself for her past missteps. Now she realized she had lingering doubts and uncertainties. What would it take for her to find the courage to truly start over?
19
“My name is Barron ‘Bling’ Douglas and I’m an alcoholic.”
Andrea blinked at Barron seated beside her in the New York Sports’s cluttered, stained, and musty conference room Tuesday morning. “Barron, I’m—”
“That’s what you want me to say, isn’t it?” Barron glared at her.
Andrea sank farther into her chair, weighted by disappointment. When Barron had shown up at the newspaper, she thought he was ready to accept her help. “Only if you believe it’s true.”
“And then you’d print it in your paper, right?”