“I want November,” Nelson said immediately. “Get ’em on board by September at the latest.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Damn right you will. You might have pulled off this one, but anybody can do a handoff. I can replace you.”
Deep in Mitch’s gut, anger began to bubble. “Nelson, anybody ever send you to management training? Because the reward-and-punishment method of motivation is really getting old.”
“I don’t need to punish people who do their jobs properly,” Nelson snapped. “And if you don’t like it, you don’t have to stick around.”
“Fine. I can quit, if you want. Before we get Eve Best’s signature on this contract. Mackenzie Roussos and Chad Everard are both here. I’m sure they’d be happy to step in with theirs.”
Nelson swore so colorfully that Mitch wondered if he’d been in the navy at some point. Back in the dark ages. Before managers learned to lead by example instead of by threatening everyone in sight.
But Nelson also appreciated a man who had a spine. Mitch might not be a shark like Roussos, or a glamour boy like Everard, but he could bring in the results with the best of them.
Nelson ran out of steam eventually and surprised Mitch with a change of subject. “So, how’d you pull it off? Did you take my advice and romance her? That always works with women.”
As if Nelson would know. The guy had been divorced, what, three times?
“I did not. She needed someone to talk to and I stood in as a sounding board.”
“Talk to?” From his tone, you’d think Eve had demanded that Mitch eat raw squid.
“There aren’t a lot of women in this region in her position, Nelson. And it’s not like she can call up Oprah or Ellen DeGeneres for a pep talk. I’ve been around this industry a while and seen a lot of shows in production. She appreciates a high-level view.”
“As long as you’re not exchanging industry secrets,” Nelson warned. “You know my opinions about that.”
“If we’re going to be on the same payroll they won’t be secrets,” he pointed out. “I plan to bring her on board with CWB’s culture, org structure, all that. In time. Not now.”
“Too soon for that,” Nelson agreed. “Get her John Hancock on that contract and she’ll be inundated with all that stuff. Good work, Hayes. When are you coming back?”
“When I get the aforesaid John Hancock,” Mitch replied drily. “And we have a few things to iron out. For instance, she wants assurance that her team will stay together under our management.”
“Why? You’ve seen one producer, you’ve seen them all.”
“It’s not just the producer. It’s the cameraman, the main story coordinator, the makeup artist who happens to be her best friend.”
Nelson made a noise that expressed his opinion of that. “I sent you down there to get Eve Best. I don’t care about her friend the makeup artist. Those people are a dime a dozen.”
“In my opinion, it would be a mistake to upset the status quo,” Mitch warned. “This team has created a winner. Making the change from independent to network is going to be disruptive enough. I’d recommend strongly that we not make any further changes.”
“I’ll think about it,” Nelson conceded grudgingly. “We can always give them short contracts and unload them in a year. I’ll talk it over with the honchos in our teleconference on Monday.”
Mitch acknowledged this was the best he could expect for now. He and Nelson both knew that Eve had them over a barrel. If they didn’t meet her conditions, she could pull out and remain as she was, no harm done. At worst, she could call SBN or CBS and play hardball with them, cutting CWB out of the running altogether.
“So, what else?” Nelson asked.
“Tonight we’re going to-” he stopped.
“What?”
“Review the list of upcoming guest segments,” he lied. “That’s it for now. Talk to you later, Nelson.”
His boss rang off with his customary abruptness and Mitch snapped his cell phone shut.
He needed to watch his mouth. Because there was no way he was telling anyone that he and Eve were meeting for dinner. Or about what they had planned after that.
EVE PUT THE RECEIVER down quietly and marveled at what Mitch Hayes could do to her with words alone. Oh, and the low, sexy voice didn’t hurt, either. That was the second time she’d skated close to having phone sex with the man-and her blood was hot, and her body softened and ready. If Mitch had been here, she’d have locked the door and jumped him.
As it was, she had to get a grip on her rioting responses. Her first duty was to let Dan know the team’s decision before he heard the news in the hall.
For a few moments, she concentrated on slowing her heartbeat and calming her breathing.
Come on, seven-thirty. This would be the shortest meeting on record.
She climbed the stairs to the station’s third floor and tapped on Dan Phillips’s door. When she heard him call, “Come in,” she pushed it open.
And stopped on the threshold. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were with someone.”
Mackenzie Roussos uncurled her lanky frame, which topped Eve’s by about four inches, from the squashy chair in the corner. “Nice to see you, Eve,” she said. “Great show today. I’m looking forward to sticking around for the town-hall show tomorrow, too.”
“Thanks,” she replied, watching Mac the Knife the way a bird would watch an approaching cat. Shrugging off the last lingering thought of Mitch, her senses went on alert. “We never know what to expect with those. I think that’s why they get the highest ratings during the week. There’s something mesmerizing about unpredictability.”
“There’s something mesmerizing about Just Between Us, period,” Mackenzie purred. “I really think it would be a fabulous fit for SBN.”
Well, there was a perfect opening for you. “Actually, that’s what I came to discuss with Dan.” She glanced at him, then back at the other woman, and smiled. Let her make what she wanted of that. “In confidence. Do you mind, Mackenzie?”
Roussos smiled and snagged her silk jacket off the coat tree and her Dooney & Bourke briefcase from the floor. “Not a bit. I love it when you talk about me and my network behind my back. Later, Dan.”
She closed the door behind her, and Eve sank into the other chair, which was a hard-backed one close to the chaotic pile that concealed his desk. What had they been talking about? Was she making him pie-in-the-sky promises about the future of his production company if he guaranteed that SBN would get the show? Or was she here for more personal reasons? Just how much influence did a high-flying woman like Mackenzie Roussos have over a middle-aged, independent station owner who hankered for a taste of the big time?
There was no way to ask these questions, and she had a job to do. For a moment, she wondered how to begin, but he saved her that decision.
“Production meeting go okay?”
She nodded. “Town-hall prep is pretty straightforward. Give the audience a topic and stand out of the way of flying objects.” He chuckled, and she went on, “I was glad to have some extra time to talk over the networks’ offers with everyone at once.”
Dan eyed her, giving away nothing. “And?”
“I gave them the three options, and we talked over the ramifications of each one. In the end, it was nearly unanimous.”
Another pause. Then Dan said, “You want me to read it in tomorrow’s paper, or what?”
Ouch. She’d thought he’d be mellower after being schmoozed for however long Mackenzie had been closeted in here with him. Eve took a deep breath. “Everyone wants to go with CWB.”
His face froze.
She rushed on, “All of us except maybe Zach have reasons for wanting to stay in Atlanta. Me included. I’m just getting to know my extended family after being away for so long. Cole doesn’t want to uproot his kids. Nicole would rather not go even farther east and-”