Day 20: Confrontation

I am just fuming right now! I just don't even know what to do, I'm so mad! I just... UGH!

Okay, I need to start at the beginning:

So on Wednesday this week Joanie pulled me into her office again to let me know I was getting another promotion, this time to a freelance writer. At first I was leery, but then she explained that this will give me more freedom to determine my own hours and sniff out the good stories, since I will be only indirectly affiliated with the town's newspaper. In other words, she wants me to find the nitty-gritty stuff that people might not want to tell someone they knew was a reporter for the local paper the stuff that makes the really big headlines. And... well, when she told me the new salary, I was on board.

Well, that evening I decided to go try out another local haunt to celebrate my promotion. But when I arrived, I discovered that Joanie and her family were all there as well, apparently celebrating one of her son's birthdays. I met both of her sons, good-looking young men named Joe and Jules, as well as her husband, Flint. Joanie and I enjoyed a drink together at the bar and chatted about work for a little while, and then they all headed home while I had another and went home, too.

Well, then on Friday night I decided to head over to the Red Velvet Lounge and check out what sort of people (or non-people, as the case may be) frequent a lounge that advertises itself as a “premier vampire hangout.” Joanie had asked me to start doing more interviews, so when I arrived I quickly introduced myself and struck up a conversation with a friendly-seeming Goth fellow named Malcolm Harris.

I was in the middle of asking him about his fascination with vampires when I saw Flint MacDuff walk in. I smiled at him, but he apparently didn't recognize me in my more formal attire and with my hair down, because he moved past me to the bar and got himself a drink. I made a mental note to catch him after I finished my interview and reintroduce myself, but before I had finished, I snuck a peek only to find him chatting up another woman, very evidently flirting with her.

Well, I couldn't help myself. I hate two-timers, and not only is Joanie a great boss, but I consider myself her friend. I grabbed my own drink and headed over to confront Flint. The other woman was just wandering off as I stepped up.

“Hello,” Flint greeted me, with a smarmy grin on his face.

“Hi, Flint. You don't remember me do you?”

“Should I?” he asked, sipping his drink.

“I would think so, considering we only met two days ago. Sofia Buenavista.”

“It's a pleasure,” he said, extending his hand.

“I work for your wife.”

The color drained from his face. Apparently it wasn't such a pleasure after all.

“I noticed your friend,” I said, jutting my chin in the woman's direction. “Not exactly your type, if she? I mean, based on the fact that you're... I dunno... married?”

That got him. He narrowed his eyes at me. “What are you implying, Miss...”

“Buenavista. And I'm not implying anything. I'm coming right out and saying it! You're a two-timing jackass!”

Well... it pretty much degraded from there, but we basically got into a brief shouting match during which I threatened to tell his wife and he threatened to get me fired and insisted I had no proof that he had done anything wrong. I threw my drink in his face and stormed out. In the cab on my way home, I realized that he was right. I don't have any proof. But I did have a handle on public opinion, courtesy of my job. I didn't have to tell Joanie he was a two-faced liar to get him to stop cheating on her. All I really had to do was smudge his reputation a little, and get all the single women in town to back off. So as soon as I got home, I sat down at my computer and wrote two stories: one positive one on Malcolm Harris (I was feeling charitable, and even though he's kinda weird, I know he could use the good publicity since he's looking for work) and one bad one on Flint.

I kept the piece on Flint pretty low-key. I don't want to get on Joanie's bad side, after all. But I did make sure to prominently declare that he's married with four kids and a hefty mortgage. Hopefully that'll deter any gold-diggers after him.

I just don't get it though. Joanie is a great woman. They seemed to have it all, a beautiful house, great jobs and reputations, awesome kids... why would he gamble all that on a pretty face? I mean... I know it's none of my business and all, but I just don't understand it.

Ugh! Listen to me! I really need to get a life of my own and quit prying into others'. Uncle Saul's always asking me if I have a boyfriend yet.

Oh no! I just received Doreen's email with the obituaries she wrote (she still sends me her stuff for proofreading occasionally , and Flora Goodfellow just died! Of natural causes, it reads. Well... I suppose that's likely. But still... how will I find out about that “fairy dust” she gave me? And it says the funeral is closed to friends and family only. Great... I knew I should have pursued that lead sooner. Damn my lousy timing!

This day is just sucking more the longer it goes on. I'm going to bed.