Daemon

for thirty-two years. You’ve been here six.’
    ‘This is no way to treat talent.’
    ‘That’s hardly at issue here.’
    Anderson realized Curto was smart for being on the otherside of the bars. She took another deep breath and tried to center herself. ‘Can’t I at least go in to say goodbye to Jamie and Doug and the others?’
    ‘Oh, see, now why are we having this conversation? It’s not productive,’ Curto said. She pushed a clipboard and pen through the bars. ‘Can you please sign these?’
    Anderson just stared at her indignantly. ‘I’m not signing anything.’
    ‘You want your personal effects, right?’
    ‘My personal effects? You mean you people emptied out my
office
?’
    ‘Anji, what do you think is going on here? This is a large corporation with global responsibilities. Emptying out your office wasn’t a vengeful act. It was a work order. Just sign the documents, and let’s get this over with. This is not fun for you or me.’
    Anderson grabbed the clipboard and pen. She slapped it against the bars right in front of Curto’s face and started reading the COBRA and 401(k) documents. She felt like a public spectacle. A loser standing outside the gates where everyone could see her. The grips and cameramen stared as they drove in through the nearby gate. She started tearing up in humiliation. Someone was punishing her. But who?
    She finally just signed all the papers without reading them and shoved the clipboard back through the bars.
    ‘We’ll deliver your personal effects to your home.’
    Anderson hurried away, rushing for the distant refuge of her car.
    ‘Ms Anderson. My pen.’
    Anderson had been starting pitcher on Wisconsin State’s girls’ softball team. She stopped, turned, and hurled the pen at the corporate ice bitch with all her strength. The woman took it right in the torso. Had it been a Mont Blanc, she would have been sucking for air. But it was just a Bic, and the woman shrank back.
    ‘There’s no call for that!’
    Anderson stormed away, her mind running in fast-forward to all the bad things that were sure to follow. Someone had dynamited a bridge on her road to success. She hadn’t prepared for this at all. Fucking terrorists.
    She mentally ticked off a list of her friends. They were all in the business or attached to the business. Who could find her a soft landing at another station? If not in San Francisco, then where? Not Madison, Wisconsin, again, please, dear God.
    Then it hit her that Melanie hadn’t warned her. That bitch had let her be publicly humiliated. Anderson pulled her cell phone out of her handbag and speed-dialed her agent. It rang three times and went to voice mail.
    ‘You’ve reached the office of Melanie Smalls. Ms Smalls is not available at the moment. To reach her assistant, Jason Karcher, press 3349.’
    Anderson punched in the numbers.
    ‘Ms Smalls’s office. Can I help you?’
    ‘Jason, it’s Anji Anderson. Put me through to Melanie.’
    ‘Hi, Ms Anderson. Melanie’s on another line. Do you want to hold?’
    ‘Look, I’m standing out here in front of KTLZ, and they’ve locked me out of the studio. Get Melanie on the damned phone.’
    ‘Okay. Hang on.’
    Anderson reached her car and clicked the remote. She got inside and cleaned up her mascara in the rearview mirror while Barry Manilow tortured her on hold because it looked like she had emphatically not ‘made it.’ The anger built inside her with each passing verse.
    Finally Melanie clicked on. ‘Anji, what’s going on?’
    ‘I’ve just been fired at the studio front gate – publicly humiliated. Josephine Curto tells me that you knew my contract wasn’t being picked up.’
    ‘Who the hell’s Josephine Curto?’
    ‘Some toady from Human Resources.’
    ‘Anji, we’re still in negotiations with the network, and I wasn’t told that any decision had been made. The ball was still in Kahn’s court.’
    ‘Josephine just told me that my agent knew about this, Melanie. I just signed papers!’
    ‘Well, she doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about, and what do you mean you just signed papers? Why would you sign papers?’ Melanie’s voice became muted. ‘Jase, check the fax machine.’
    Anderson started crying again. She hit the dashboard – angry with herself for being so emotional. ‘Damnit, Melanie. Why didn’t I see this coming? Who the hell did the network get to replace me?’
    ‘Don’t beat yourself up. We’ll see if we can get you something on