Lucinda inhaled, held her breath to oxygenate her body, and then raised her hand to knock on Mr. Lombard's door. His personal assistant had just given the okay for him to be interrupted. She knocked lightly and waited.
"Come in!" he yelled in his irritatingly nasal tone.
She straightened her shoulders, lifted her head high, and decided she would quit with dignity. When she entered Mr. Lombard's inner sanctum, her boss was tossing wadded balls of paper at a trashcan across the room. He motioned for her to sit without removing his eyes from his current toss. When the ball of paper landed beside the others outside the target, he shouted, "Dammit!" and turned a sour expression on Lucinda. However, before she opened her mouth to express her disgust with his disregard of her wishes about the Harris Brightman article, and her imminent departure from the paper, the bald-headed, round-faced, overweight editor said, "I have an assignment for you in Paxtonville."
Lucinda's eyes widened and she gasped, "What! Why would you send me there? Harris hates me now. And I imagine the entire town does too!"
"Only a minor inconvenience," Mr. Lombard said nonchalantly as he reached for another piece of paper, wadded it into a ball, and muttered, "I hate obituaries. The only thing they're good for is tossing the drafts into the trash." He missed another basket. "Now back to Paxtonville. Do you have any idea how many famous people live there?"
"Sure, I put them in the article."
Her boss glared at her. "You put Harris and his family in the article, but you neglected to include the rock singer Sean Barfield and his songwriter wife, Tessa; Connor McKenzie, one of the foremost painters in the world; Sage Tanner, formerly a supermodel and his wife Sarah, a popular romance writer; also, Dirk Branigan, holder of numerous gold buckles for bull riding, and there may be others."
Lucinda was stunned.
When the editor missed another basket she said, "So you want me to go to Paxtonville because…" She waited for him to complete her sentence.
He looked at her like she was obtuse and responded in like manner, "Because I want a scoop on the famous residents. Find out their secrets. Find out why they live there. Is it the water?" He grinned at his unimaginative joke.
Lucinda reiterated, "I'd never be accepted. The townspeople will probably lynch me the day I arrive."
Mr. Lombard's grin widened. "Maybe, maybe not after they find out you're working for their local newspaper, The Paxtonville Weekly."
Lucinda's jaw dropped.
Ignoring her incredulity, her boss continued, "I got you an eight week gig with the paper in exchange for the owner/editor getting a byline in our paper. Seems he's not impervious to wanting national recognition for his journalistic skill. In fact, he came up with a plan that will make the townspeople accept you." He stopped speaking and started rummaging through the top drawer of his desk. "Ya wanna a stick of gum if I can find one?"
"No. I want to know why the people of Paxtonville would accept me."
He glanced up and then returned to rumbling through his drawer. "Because you're gonna issue an apology to the town for ratting out their homegrown hero and make amends by doing a piece about how great the town is. People love seeing someone grovel." Simple. Clean. True.
"Underhanded."
"No. You're merely gonna connect the dots as to why so many famous people want to live in Paxtonville, and if you discover anything interesting, you're gonna include it in your article for this paper. If you don't find anything, I won't hold it much against you."
"Discover something interesting? Do you mean sensational and tabloid worthy?"
Mr. Lombard tossed her a stick of gum and grinned slyly. "Your words, not mine." He unwrapped his own gum and popped it into his mouth, smacking loudly. "And just so you know, there's a big bonus waiting for you at the completion of this project. Depending, of course, on what you discover." His grin widened until Lucinda could see the fillings in his back teeth. "Welcome to the world of journalism, Lucy."
Lucinda glanced at the gum in her hand, considered this turn of events, and shelved her intent to quit. She had just been offered the perfect avenue to gain access to Harris and his family. She could apologize for her past deviousness and possibly write an article that would make Harris forgive her. Tossing the unwrapped gum toward the trashcan and making a perfect basket, she stood and said, "I'll do it."