Page 23 of Dirty Filthy Boy
Mr. Bartlett's expression doesn't change. "Joe might will go ballistic if you move in on his turf."
"But I wouldn't be. He can still report stats and such while I get the human interest stories. What makes them tick? What makes them something more than a football player? They'll share things with me they wouldn't share with Joe." Of this much, I'm sure. Otherwise, I wouldn't be pushing so hard.
"Like what?"
"I got Ty to open up about his childhood. As far as I know, no one has gotten him to talk about that. And I know I can do the same with the other players. Just give me a chance. That's all I ask."
"Look. Ty Mathews is interested in you. Something I don't approve of, in case you haven't noticed. But the others? Maddox has a wife, a family, kids. Ron's a loner, and from what I've heard, he doesn't cotton to women much."
"It's his religious background. He's a born again Christian, Mr. Bartlett. I have my ways to make them talk. And no, they don't include sex." That much I can promise him since I'm done with Ty.
He scratches the back of his neck. "I don't know, Perkins. Joe out there—" He nods toward the clear glass window. Joe's head's poking out of his cubicle, brazenly glaring at us. "He's complaining you lost him the Ron Moss interview."
"Joe would have done a run of the mill story. You know that, Mr. Bartlett. It would have included football stats and maybe a paragraph or two about Ron Moss's background. I can get more than that out of him."
"How do you know?"
"Call it woman's intuition." And the fact Marigold knows something about him, something I'm going to drag out of her if it's the last thing I do. "I deserve this chance. What do you have to lose? Let me interview Ron Moss. I'll turn in the article. If you don't like it, Joe can finish the Ty Mathews interview." Over my dead body.
"And Ty Mathews will allow a one-on-one interview with Joe just on your say so?"
"I can talk him into it. Yes, sir." Actually, I'm pretty sure after my blow off this morning he'll hang up on me. But Mr. Bartlett does not need to know that.
He plops on his office chair, fiddles with the pencil, the one he's practically chewed through. His mouth jerks right, left, right again. He jams the pencil into the cup and stares at me. "Fine. You have until Friday to write Ron's piece. If I like it, and that's a big if, I'll put it in Sunday's edition."
"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Mr. Bartlett."
I head to the kitchen to dump the now cold coffee in the sink before heading out for a fresh cup. The newspaper's generic coffee will do in a pinch. But today I need a premium brew. And the shop next door serves the best. I won't be breaking the bank, either since I'll be paying for it with a gift card I won. Once I'm caffeinated, I call the Outlaws' Press office and ask to talk to Trevor Howard. By some miracle, I'm put right through.
"Ms. Perkins, if you're calling about your information, I can guarantee you, no one but the employees inside this office have access to it."
"Thank you, Mr. Howard. I appreciate you letting me know. But I'm calling about something else."
"I have a meeting in five minutes. So give me the short version." He snaps out.
I rush to make my case. "I'd like another chance to interview Ron Moss. I talked to him yesterday at the Boys & Girls Club and he's fine with it."
"He's willing to give you a second chance?"
"Yes."
I can practically hear the wheels turning in his head. "I'll have to talk to Ron, but if he agrees, I don't see any problem with it."
"Great. I'd like to interview another player, as well." I hurry to say before he hangs up on me. "I talked to Maddox Buchinsky as well. He's such a great example of a professional football player who's also a family man. Our readers would eat up that story. A large percentage of TheWindy City Chronicle's subscriber base consists of middle-class families. They'd love to read about him."
For a moment, he doesn't say anything. A bad sign. "I don't know." He finally pipes up. "Ron may have agreed to another interview, but your first attempt did not go all that well. And Mad Dog is another kettle of fish entirely."
"I understand your hesitation, but give me another chance to prove myself. My article on Ron Moss will be in Sunday's paper." I hope. "If after you read it, you're not convinced I'm a good reporter, you can turn down my request."
"Okay. Fine. I'll approve it on that condition. But if your article does not pass muster, I won't hesitate to deny you access to Mad Dog." Something beeps on his end. "Damn. Now I'm late. I have to go, Ms. Perkins."
"Wait. There's one more player."
He huffs. "Who?"
I don't know what makes me say it other that I want to prove to myself I can do it. "I'd like to interview Ryan Taylor as well."
"You sure about that?"
