WLUV Box Set: Ignited, Consumed, Burned (28 page)

He’d
gotten good at playing his cards right. He’d worked to get his entire professional
career right where he’d wanted it. Now it was time for Fawn.

Fawn
fifteen years ago…

Brick called
many times. But Fawn didn’t bite.

He was an
ass. An ass who’d fooled her into thinking they might have something special
together. She felt like an idiot.

Her heart
hurt more than she wanted to admit. Brick had played her so completely that she
actually felt they had a real connection. In the space of one day the word love
had entered her mind. It still stung to think how immature she’d been. But all
of the thoughts about her love life had to take a back seat. Indulging in
sorrow was a luxury. She had bigger problems.

Something
was seriously wrong with her mother. Betty was forgetting where she parked the
car, forgetting the names of her best girlfriends, and she was losing her
temper all the time.

Finally,
Fawn was able to get her to the
doctor. The tests they did only made her mother even more angry and confused,
and the news wasn’t good.

“You have
the initial stages of Alzheimer’s Disease, Mrs. Claussen.” Mother and daughter
clasped hands at the diagnosis.

The doctor
gave them pamphlets and they read books from the library, trying to learn all
they could. Fawn’s mom chose denial as the best coping mechanism. “That doctor
doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I am just fine. I beat Shirley at Bunco
just last week for chrissake.”

“That’s
right mom, and Shirley’s good.” There was no point in arguing. It didn’t help.

For the
time being Fawn could manage her mother’s care. Fawn and her mom were the only
two people in their little family, but they’d muddle through. There really
wasn’t much of a choice. Her mother’s safety now depended solely on Fawn.

In her
good moments Betty Claussen was still driving, grocery shopping, even playing
cards, but it was as if someone showed them the timer on a bomb that was going
to at some point explode right in front of them. The timer was ticking, even if
her mother ignored it.

And then
things got worse.

Fawn’s
mother lived in a mid-century ranch home that had been paid off decades ago
with her father’s insurance settlement. When the bank called – just a few days
after the doctors had given the diagnosis – mother and daughter again received
some shocking news. Again, it all fell on Fawn’s shoulders.

“It
appears your mother hasn’t paid her property tax bill for years. Not only that,
she’s taken out a mortgage on the home and has stopped making those payments.”
She’d driven to the bank with her mother and the two of them sat side by side
while another man in a suit delivered bad news. This time she couldn’t reach
her hand out to comfort her mother. She was livid.

Her mother
had pissed away the only security she had, her home.

“What did
you do?” Fawn directed her frustration at her mother, forgetting the Alzheimer’s,
forgetting the tenderness the two women had shared in the face of the diagnosis
just a few days before.

“I don’t
know… honey? What does he mean?” Fawn’s mother’s eyes seemed cloudy. Was she
serious? Was the disease taking over or did she use it as cover for the
financial disaster they had in front of them?

“I don’t
want to leave our house, Fawn. This man won’t make me leave, will he?” Her
mom’s pleas were like a panicked child.

In the end
Fawn knew she would make this right. She’d pay the debt and take care of her
mother. Somehow she just would. “What does she owe? What do I owe?”

“$150,000.”
Fawn made $50,000 as a fill-in anchor and reporter at the number one station in
the market. Even if she continued up the ladder at WBPN, that $150,000 seemed
insurmountable; she’d have to work over a decade to pay that amount.

The
reality of the debt and the situation began to press down on her. The little
moment of wild abandon with Brick Cooper receded into the past, an aberration.
Somehow she knew, as they sat and looked at numbers, that spontaneity would not
enter her life ever again. While Fawn made calculations and payment plans, her
mother folded a gum wrapper into the shape of a bird.

“You can
begin paying this month, and the taxes can be negotiated with the IRS. We’ll
pull together the mortgage schedule. Ms. Clawson, you realize— one missed
payment and foreclosure begins.”

“I get
it.” Fawn’s mother smiled at her.

“See we’ll
be alright honey, just perfectly alright. Daddy will be home next week to sort
it out.” Great. Her mother was now referencing her long dead husband. The hits
kept on coming.

Her
mother’s health and their precarious financial situation consumed Fawn’s
thoughts.

Brick had
stopped calling, apparently getting the hint that she was not interested in
being his booty call, and she was relieved. She didn’t have the energy for
whatever he was. Her sexual adventures and her loss of control made her
ashamed, so she pushed them out of her mind.

She also
pushed for a promotion. Fawn Clawson was poised to be the early evening anchor
from Monday through Friday. One more notch from the top of the totem pole at
WBPN. The jump from reporter and weekend anchor to full-time anchor would give
her a 30 percent bump in salary. It would all go to her mother’s care and
paying the debt on the house. But at least one area of her life would be on
track, her career.

Six weeks
had gone by since her night with Brick. She’d started to feel better about the
whole thing and was beginning to put it behind her. This promotion was a bright
spot and the news director had indicated it was nearly a done deal.

WBPN’s
news director, the guy who’d hired her, Allan Alder was really a jerk, as far
as Fawn was concerned. She’d had to dodge his hands and his repeated requests
to “hang out” when she first started. She did not want to sleep her way to the
top at any station. Even if it that were in the game plan, it was a bad idea to
give it up for a local news director. That was the advice the main anchor at
WBPN had given her. Advice-wise, “don’t sleep with the news director at a small
market television station” was pretty solid.

She
thought she’d deftly managed to evade him without ever seeming like she knew he
was coming on to him. And he’d mostly left her alone in the last few weeks,
having his sights set on a college intern, poor girl.

Alder
called her into his office after her live shot and told her to close the door.
Fawn was excited, and stood at his desk to hear the job offer. Not only would
the anchor money be good for her and her mom’s financial situation, the regular
schedule would make it easier to hire a little help. As a reporter, her hours
were all over the map.

“So I had
lunch with the police chief today.” Fawn thought it was a strange opening.

“Hm? I
didn’t know you were friends.” She had no idea how she was supposed to respond.

“Oh it
makes sense for the news director to touch base with city leaders from time to
time. Good for both of us.”  Alder got to the point, “Your name came up.”

“Really?”

“Really.
You’re quite famous at the cop shop.”

Fawn felt
the hot sting of tears just behind her eyes but fought them back. She was not
going to let this bastard see her cry.

“Yes, he
told me something I’d always suspected…you are quite a dirty girl.” Alder’s
door was closed. Suddenly Fawn was not only worried what Alder would say but
what he would do. He walked from behind his desk and started circling around
her. She backed farther and farther away until she was trapped with the couch
behind her, Alder between her and the door.

“I don’t
think you have the right to say that to me.” Fawn hoped this wasn’t going any
further.

“Oh, I
think I do. The Chief told me about the hero of the Fetters Rampage, Brock?
Brick? Whatever…” Alder was now literally breathing down her neck. Fawn could
smell the garlic from his recent lunch with The Chief as he stood less than an
inch from her face. In her heels she was a head taller, but Alder was squat,
full of muscle, and what now seemed like venom. “He told me that you spread
your legs real good for that little rookie cop.”

“Listen. I
did make a mistake. I had a… it was...” Fawn couldn’t bring herself to say
she’d had a one-night stand with an interview subject.

“Yeah, I
know. And so I say to myself, all this proper bullshit, all this stick-up-her-ass,
nose-in-the-air behavior Fawn’s been giving me? It’s an act. It’s time I got a
chance to see what you showed that cop.”

“NO.” Fawn
hoped a firm refusal would throw cold water on Alder.

“Here’s
the thing, though. I’m going to fire you if you don’t loosen up with me. You
see, sleeping with a source is wrong— look it up. Moving forward you’ll have no
credibility with any police officer I assign you to interview because they all
know you’re an easy lay. Not too ‘serious journalist’ of you.”

He had his
hands on her hair and began to stroke her cheek. She felt like she might throw
up. She needed this damn job. Her mother needed her to have it. Alder took his
hand and slid it across her neck and then down her blouse. She hoped he’d stop
at the caress, but he pushed her backward onto his couch and then lunged on top
of her, pressing his hips into her. She was pinned and struggled underneath
him.

“So the
best thing for you is the cushy anchor job, away from the nasty policeman. But
to get that anchor contract there’s just one thing you need to do. Me.” Alder
ripped at her blouse, popping open few buttons. She turned her head from side
to side to avoid his lips on her mouth.

His hands
headed for her skirt and that’s when Fawn had enough. She summoned the strength
to push Alder to the side and he fell off the couch, off of her. She fell, too,
but continued to scramble away from her boss on her hands and knees.

“Crawling
is just fine.”

“You’re a
pig.” She stood up and fumbled with a button that he’d opened.

“Didn’t we
just go over the fact that you like pigs?” Alder’s licked his lower lip as he
stood up.

“I will
not sleep with you.”

“And I
will not promote you. You’re fired. Oh, and you say anything about this? Well,
I call every news director in town and tell them the real reason you’re fired
is that you sleep with sources.”

“That’s
not fair.” Fawn was in shock at how the last few minutes had played out. The
last good thing in her life, her job, was a total shambles.

“No, it’s
not fair. But that’s news.” Alder seemed just as aroused by firing her as he
did by fondling her.

Fawn
turned and went to grab the door handle to get out of the office but then she
realized she still needed Alder.

“You will
not go blabbing about this police thing. I don’t care what you think you heard.
If any station calls about me, you will give me a stellar recommendation or I
will sue your ass for sexual harassment.”

“Are you
done? Don’t take any WBPN property with you when you leave tonight. And drop
off your gate card on the desk.” Alder turned away from her when she finally
did get the hell out of the office.

Shakily,
she gathered her stuff— her Rolodex, her boots, her bag of cosmetics, her life
at WBPN. She still didn’t cry, but something inside her was turning from nausea
to real pain. If felt like her internal organs were being wrung out. Was this
what being fired was like, or was this the adrenaline reaction from being
attacked? Everything about her felt wrong.

Fawn was
so counting on being promoted to anchor, counting on the fact that she’d also
more easily avoid police stories if she was on the anchor desk. She was sure
all the cops were snickering behind her back. That kind of reputation could
stick with a person, especially in a small town, so her hope was that by staying
away they’d forget it and wouldn’t have an opportunity to belittle her, mock
her, or hit on her. Instead they did it at lunch, with her boss, her ex-boss,
behind her back.

Fawn’s
arms and bag were loaded down with her all her WBPN stuff as she walked out and
passed Bernie on the way to the parking lot

“You okay,
kid?” Bernie asked.

“I don’t
know. I think I just had a tough week. I’m headed out. Thank you though.” Fawn
used all the energy she had to walk to her car. She fumbled in her bag for her
keys. She couldn’t focus on them.

She needed
to get home, get as far away from Allan Alder and his hatefulness as she could.
She’d feel better away from him.

Fawn felt
a shift in her abdomen. Something was terribly wrong, she realized. Her head
broke out in a cold sweat, and then warm liquid gushed from between her legs.
Looking down, she saw the red all over her discount cream-colored Calvin Klein
suit. She’d bought it for her new anchoring job. As a gray fog swept over her,
she had the fleeting thought that it was probably ruined. She didn’t remember
hitting the pavement…

“Fawn…hey,
kid. You can wake up now. Fawn, there’s a clearance sale at Macy’s…”

She didn’t
know if it was hours, minutes, or days later when she heard Bernie saying her
name. She struggled to open her eyes, to answer his gentle sing-song call.