Natalie understood that reporting from the Miami Beach Hampton Inn was a bad idea, a news disaster waiting to happen. It might lead viewers to believe she was reporting from St. Tropez, which would be a lie. It also might cause her to tumble three feet off a stepladder onto the floor of a Hampton Inn while live on TV. One of these fears was confirmed when, during her first live shot, the anchor tossed to her, saying, “We go to our Natalie Savage, live from St. Tropez.”

As soon as the camera was off, she’d called the news desk. “We’ll get crucified when people figure out we’re in Miami. Can you imagine the item they’ll write in TVBuzzster?” she’d moaned to Hal on the phone. “Would you please get me reassigned to St. Tropez where the story is actually happening?”

“You’re right. We can’t mislead viewers,” Hal replied, followed by, “So I will personally make sure the anchors never again say where you are. Everyone is good with it,” he assured her. Implying she should be, too.

A tingle of apprehension shot down her spine. Before getting off the phone, he advised her to disable the location settings on her Facebook and Twitter apps.

“In fairness, we’re not misleading anyone,” Matt said. “As long as they don’t say you’re in St. Tropez, we’re in the clear. It’s on viewers if they assume you’re in Europe.”

“Great. I’ll remind my credibility of that when it’s taking a beating in a dark Twitter alley,” Natalie said, wondering whether it was a coincidence that the very characteristic for which the Chief had praised her—her credibility—was being tested by Bibb.

The more she thought about it, the more it seemed deliberate. Now her mind was stuck in a loop, playing out the dual admonitions she seemed to get from everyone in the business. “Be a team player” and “beat them at their own game.” Did no one notice that the two things were at odds?

Her stomach grumbled and she realized she hadn’t eaten in forever. She glanced at the clock. 11:35 a.m. Well past breakfast time, for normal people. In her current world, nice distinctions like breakfast and lunch had simply become a question of Doritos or Cheez-Its.

Natalie’s phone buzzed and she welcomed the distraction, until she saw who it was.

MOM: Hi, dear. I was away from the TV for the last 20 minutes. Were you on again?

MOM: Judging by the bags under your eyes, I think you might have blocked sinuses. Am I right? Maybe you want to do a steam in the shower, it will loosen your mucus.

MOM: When you’re home for the wedding, I’ll give you a saline rinse for your sinuses.

MOM: I say this to help you!!! Love you.