Filthy Doctor(247)

He put down the paper and looked up at me. “I want you to interview him for the finance page. Find out his secrets. Ask him what tips he can offer our readers on investing strategies. That sort of thing.”

I folded my arms under my generous breasts, frowning at Jim. “I don't need to ask him a bunch of fluff questions about winning the Superbowl?”

“Jane, I told you,” Jim said, rising from behind his desk and walking around it to face me. “This isn't a sports story. Hal Masterson has been interviewed a thousand times over the course of his career by every sports page in the industry. But no one,” he shook a finger in my face, “has ever done a story on him for finance. It'll be a hit. Trust me on this one.”

I sighed and lowered my arms to my sides. Jim had his heels dug in on this one, and it seemed like I didn't have much choice in the matter. Though at least, I figured, I could make an interesting story out of it, as long as Hal didn't spend the entire time talking about football.

Jim handed me the folder and I left, heading down the hall to my office. I wasn't happy about being stuck with the Hal Masterson story, but I figured I might as well get it over with as soon as possible. Then I could get back to reporting the real financial news, writing stories about the changing shape of the American economy and making predictions about upcoming shifts in employment trends. The types of stories I'd studied and worked hard at for years to make a name for myself with this paper.

I spent the next few hours in my office, doing research and making phone calls. I always believe in being thorough in my work, so I researched all the major news on Masterson, going back ten years to the day he was first draft pick out of college, on through his rise as a major sports star, and up to the more recent news about his financial windfalls. Jim had been right about one thing: there was really no financial news on Masterson. There were some reports listing him among the top ten highest paid athletes in the NFL, with a few mentions here and there about his investments and the money he'd made on Wall Street. But all the reports were written by sports page reporters, who focused on his skills at the game, and only mentioned his wealth as a side note.

Once I had enough information to begin building a foundation for my story, I picked up the phone and called the PR office for Masterson's team. When someone answered I put on my most professional tone and said, “Hello, this is Jane Edison with The Dawson Post's Finance and Economics page. I'd like to set up an interview with one of your players, Hal Masterson.”

“Did you say finance and economics?” the woman asked me. Her tone sounded like she was as doubtful about this story as I was.

“That's right,” I said. “We'd like to do a profile on Mr. Masterson, in light of his recent financial success. Talk to him about his investment strategies, how he managed so much success, that sort of thing.”

“Hold on a moment.” The woman set the phone down, though I could hear muted voices coming through the line, as if she were whispering with someone nearby. After a minute she picked up the phone again and said, “I'm sorry, Ms. Edison, but I'm afraid the finance pages aren't really the sort of publicity we're looking for.”

“But—”

“I'm sorry,” she said again, cutting me off. “Thank you for your interest. Have a nice day.”

She hung up on me and I sat there, staring at my phone, a scowl forming on my lips. I didn't want to do this stupid story anyway, but I wasn't about to let this woman just dismiss me like that. I was going to find a way to talk to Masterson, no matter what it took.

I thought about how to proceed. I had some colleagues who had done crazy things to get interviews with sports stars, from stalking them at their homes to sneaking into the locker room after a game, pretending to be a towel boy. That sort of thing wasn't quite my style, however. I needed to approach this from the same angle I was approaching my story: the finance angle.

I smirked as the idea came to me. I looked through my notes until I found the name of one of the companies Masterson had invested in. He had a large number of shares in a company called Jonas General Merchandise Suppliers. GMS had started as a small, family-owned business before their smart online practices and their innovative marketing campaign, which blended social media, video advertising, and traditional marketing strategies, had launched them into a nationwide powerhouse. According to my research, Masterson had first invested in them because he had gone to school with one of the Jonas kids, who now, ten years later, sat on the executive board of their company. There was a connection that I could exploit in order to get my interview.

I located a phone number for Jonas GMS and told their PR representative that I wanted to do a story on their company's rise from a family business to a major corporation. They were only too eager to agree. I jotted down all of the details in my notebook and made the arrangements, then thanked them and hung up the phone.

I looked at the appointment notes and grinned. I'd be able to get a real financial story for my pages by interviewing someone from GMS, and at the same time I'd have the chance to milk them for a connection to Masterson. It was like getting two stories for the price of one.





My interview with Brett Jonas went smooth as can be. I got all kinds of information about their business, how they got started, and what they had done to grow into such a successful corporation. Masterson's investment had been a big part of their growth; he had dumped millions into the company with the money he'd made playing football, and they had used that money to expand the company and grow to new heights. It hadn't been tough to get Brett talking about Masterson and his role as an investor. Towards the end of the interview, I subtly slipped in the question that had been my real reason for coming here.

“So I know Hal Masterson is a big football star and all, but you say he's still involved with the company?”

“Yes,” Brett said. She was a pleasant woman, with long brown hair and a bit of baby fat still showing around her cheeks. “He's one of our primary shareholders. He doesn't get directly involved in things, of course. But he still has votes at shareholder meetings.”

“Do you think he'd be interested in speaking with me?” I asked, trying to keep myself from smiling too much and giving away my little game. “What with his sports fame and all, a few quotes from him about your company could be a nice way to draw in more readers. Make sure the story gets the attention it deserves.”

“Oh, that sounds like a great idea!” Brett said.

We chatted a bit longer, and Brett promised to contact Masterson personally and ask him to do the interview. I gave her my card and she told me she'd give Hal my number.

Now all I had to do was wait.

A few days later, Hal called me. As soon as I answered the phone, I could tell this guy was too full of himself.

“So,” he said after we made our greetings, “Brett tells me you'd like to do a story about me?”

“Actually,” I said, “the story is about Jonas GMS. But I think your input would be invaluable, considering your history of involvement with the company.” That was a lie, of course. I needed the interview with Hal himself in order to satisfy my editor. But I figured it would be easier to get the information I needed if I played it cool and pretended that Hal wasn't my real goal.

“Ahh,” he said. “Well, that's nice. Brett's a good friend. We were almost a little more than friends, if you know what I mean.”

I rolled my eyes, glad he couldn't see the disgusted look on my face. He was probably the sort of man who always had women fawning all over him. He no doubt thought he was God's gift and that he could get any woman he wanted. Not that I expected him to be interested in a girl like me. He probably dated supermodels. I was a big girl, and while I was comfortable with my weight and confident that I could be both big and sexy at the same time, I knew that some superficial types of men couldn't see past a girl's waistline and realize what a catch she was. My ex certainly hadn't been able to.

“Is this something we can do over the phone?” Hal asked.

“Actually, I'd prefer to meet in person.” Meeting in person meant I could corner Hal into answering whatever questions I needed without him being able to simply hang up on me. And I wasn't planning on being nice in my interview or catering to his stardom.

“Maybe we can do it over dinner?” he offered. “I know a quiet place where we can meet. Nice and private.”

I rolled my eyes. Was this guy really trying to turn our interview into a date?

“I'd prefer a more professional setting,” I told him.

“All right,” he said. “We're playing in Philly next week. We can meet at the hotel, in one of the conference rooms. How's that sound?”

“That sounds perfect.”

We ironed out the details and arranged a time to meet. I'd have the next week to keep digging up whatever I could on Hal Masterson. If there had ever been any dirty dealings or insider trading going on in his past, I planned to find out about it. I doubted that a football player could have become a billionaire without breaking some kind of rules, and if there was any kind of scandal to be uncovered, it would make this story more worthwhile. I just had to do my homework and dig up whatever dirt I could find.