I was not happy with that performance. And what is wrong with your hair? I expect better at the White House. We need to talk. Come to my office. Now, please.

2

Hair and Loathing in the DC Bureau

When Natalie walked onto the seventh-floor newsroom at ATN’s DC bureau, the only sounds were coming from the dozen TV monitors ringing the assignment desk, flashing local news, cable news, and multiple iterations of article-plus-meaningless-noun shows:

The View, The Chew, The Real, The Buzz. Too bad there wasn’t a show called The Condemned, she could have been its poster child.

At first she’d been puzzled by what she’d done that warranted being summoned by the bureau chief. Her question wasn’t the classiest but it had elicited a new piece of information, which was her job, wasn’t it? In the taxi on the way to the meeting, she’d looked to Twitter for clues and found only that #NoEstaNoche was trending and Ryan McGreavy’s followers seemed to be climbing by the minute.

She threaded her way through the mazes of desks where colleagues were staring at massive computer screens, monitoring incoming digital news like air force controllers on high alert for a bogie. Eyes unblinking, they were refreshing Twitter, Facebook, Snapchat, Instagram, Drudge, the Daily Mail gossip page, the New York Times, the Washington Post, POLITICO, Axios, BuzzFeed, TVBuzzster, The EarlyBird, and various social media mining apps, making sure that no vital item—“Shocking Video of First Lady’s Indigenous Cousins Performing Ancient Voodoo Ritual”—got overlooked and became The Story We Should Have Had!

Lucky for her, the news cycle was churning so rapidly that her colleagues were too busy keeping up with the latest White House leaks to note her presence. At least none of them scooted away as she passed them.

“Natalie Savage. Great! You got a question today!” a voice boomed in front of her.

Natalie stopped, just managing not to run into the large, fortysomething man who had spoken. Hal Thomas, the deputy bureau chief, was giving her a broad nicotine-stained smile. As the number two boss right under Bibb, Hal had a reputation as a petty tyrant who punished reporters who had the audacity to question their assignments or the bureau’s management. Natalie had heard him referred to even by women outside the bureau as Handsy Hal. Now, as he gripped her arm while standing a little too close and squeezing a little too long, she could see why.

Natalie gave him a bright smile and disengaged her arm. “Thanks, Hal,” she said in her friendliest voice and, trying to project urgency, continued toward the news desk.