A Charitable Scandal

The First Interview

The next day, I went straight to the local television station and, though it was only ten in the morning, Mornings with Mariska had already wrapped for the day. I waited by a side entrance, watching the audience funnel out of the main doors, their faces full of excitement as they chatted about the show. A producer eventually came to meet me and then guided me into the studio where people who were working far too hard, far too early in the morning, cleaned up Mariska's set. He then directed me to the seat I'd be sitting in the following week for the real, live interview. Upon handing me a cup of coffee, he assured me that Mariska was on her way and not long after that, she did indeed sweep in with a train of men and women waving around cell phones, tablets, and compliments.

"So are you excited?"

She wore a pleasant smile upon her well made up face as she took her seat. However, that was all I got in regards to any legitimate sort of greeting.

"Uh, yes?"

"Good," she said, with a wave of her hand, shooing away her doting entourage. "So let's get started then."

The first half hour was dedicated to getting to know who I was, how I got to where I was, why I chose my career, etc.

"So you went into Public Relations to provide transparency to consumers?"

"Yes." It was a short, succinct answer, but it was also a leading question. I'd already established why I did what I did and I wasn't sure why she lingered.

"Well, that's certainly an admirable desire, but you've been at this for seven years, surely you've noticed that you've picked a rather poor choice of careers for following that ambition."

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, for all I know, you are lying to me even now. How do I know that you care about my well-being as a customer when you are speaking for the company that pays your salary?"

"I, wait, what..." This hadn't been in any of my prep questions.

"Honestly," she said, in a loud, concise tone that cut me off cold, "the mere fact you work for Quinto Technologies speaks volumes for your character. I do like having all kinds of characters up here with me in the hot seat, but I won't let you push your lies on my viewers."

Her crimson red smile twisted slightly, morphing into something mischievous. Her designer suit pulled against her squared shoulders as she leaned in towards me, somehow making her feel taller and larger than she was. Her gaze, unbroken by even a single strand of hair as it had all been expertly pulled back into a slick, tight bun, pressed into me, pushing me further into my seat. Her whole presence carried a weight and authority that closed in around her prey without her doing so much as blinking.

"What lies?" I finally answered.

Her eyes glittered and her smile widened. I knew in an instant, she let me get my question in so I'd take her bait.

"Profits climb, yet your quarterly reports indicate no boom in hiring, salary increases, or investments. The money seems to be funneled away into ambiguous projects and faceless execs."

I hated to admit it, but I actually admired Mariska's tenacity despite being a host for what was often a fluffy morning show.

"Perhaps you can provide transparency on those projects," she continued. "Where is the money going?"

"Mariska," said the producer with a whine to his voice, "I think we are going off course..."

"No," I interjected, "I have an answer."

I kept my eyes trained on the host. She was good, I gave her that, but I had been at my job for seven years. I'd dealt with disgruntled customers on a daily basis and I'd waded through my fair share of corporate bull shit. If she wanted a sparring partner. She had one.