Taken By The Bull

Chapter 3

A news reporter had to deal with many things in their line of duty. They might find that their friends or family had connections to a case; that a figure of interest was lying, and have to quickly and correctly decide whether those lies mattered in relation to the story; or find that the subject was hitting far closer to home than expected, and have to deal with the blurring of subjectivity and objectivity. When was a piece ‘pure journalism’ or an ‘editorial’? Whose agenda was being followed, and why? Who was the one really constructing the narrative?

And, just sometimes, they had to deal with a furious ex barging into the middle of a pleasant interview.

“You’re expecting trouble?” Staci asked, but Steve hadn’t the chance to reply.

“Seth said, you had a lady-friend up here.” Dawn snapped as she drew close. “You didn’t wait to move on, did you Steve?”

The bull-rider passed a hand through his hair, sighing. “Dawn honey, we broke up months ago. A man’s allowed to give an interview to a reporter in his own time, you know.”

Something about the way he phrased that made Staci wonder if he was talking to her, just as much to his ex. Not a ‘lady-friend’, just a reporter; not a date, just an interview. She took the lead gratefully – the last thing she wanted was to personally become part of some relationship drama. Her job was to stand on the edges of things, and catch every word – not to be dragged into the middle of it as a viable opponent.

“I’m Staci Wilder, from JMN News.” She smiled brightly, professionally, and extended her hand towards the blonde as she drew to a stop within touching distance. “Pleased to meet you.”

Dawn looked down at the proffered hand with the kind of expression usually reserved for those who were being presented with a large, freshly-steaming cowpat. She pulled back glossy pink lips from her teeth in disdain and instead turned to Steve, ignoring Staci’s presence entirely. “Cut the crap, boy. And don’t ‘Dawn honey’ me. You don’t get to talk to me like that, anymore.”

But you get to talk to him, like that? Staci thought as her hand dropped back to her side.

“Fine, then,” Steve eyes followed the little exchange as he hooked his thumbs into the black leather belt at his waist. “What brings you onto my land today then, Miss Ashleigh? It certainly isn’t good manners, to me or my guest. I wasn’t expecting a call; as you can see, I’m busy working on my PR.”

“’Public Relations’?” Dawn snorted and folded her arms over her chest, pulling the fabric of her thin gray shirt tight. Staci doubted that that was entirely a coincidence. “I don’t know about the ‘public’ part. It all looked pretty personal from a distance.”

Staci looked over to Steve, her eyebrows raised. He shot back a helpless kind of look, and she wished that the voice recorder could pick up on that kind of thing. His voice gave very little away when he talked.

Still. I’ll be listening. I’ll be taping. Mostly likely, we can’t ever be using this kind of stuff on air, but – it’ll help me parse whether or not there’s anything worth following up on. As unfriendly as Dawn was, she was still part of the reason why Staci wondered if there was more to Steve Law’s success than anyone was letting on. And here she was, willing to fling whatever kind of sh*t she could lay a hand on.

“Look, Dawn.” Steve sighed. “Miss Ashleigh. Whatever. I don’t have time for this today. In fact, I don’t have time for this, in general. Not any more.” His tone was polite as he addressed his ex-partner, but lacked the warm manner he’d had before her arrival. “So let’s you speak your piece, and we can wrap this up.”

 “You know damn well why I’m here!” The blonde woman seemed to find his calmness infuriating; her jaw tightened and her eyes narrowed. “And I know that you know. So don’t be playing games with me, Steve.” She stared straight at him. “You should know better than that.”

Oh my, Staci thought. Maybe she’s kind of batsh*t crazy. As much as she naturally wanted toedge away from the arguing ex-couple, she forced herself to lean a little closer, so that everything could be recorded. Just don’t hit me, lady.

“I’m the one playing games, now?”Steve’s quiet demeanor cracked a little as he threw his arms out in frustration, though he quickly caught himself and pushed his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. “For crying out loud Dawn, Staci and I could be planning a wedding and a honeymoon to Bali right now, and it would still be none of your goddamn business! We said our goodbyes in March, and you’re still here opening up old wounds every damn chance you get.”

“’Staci’, is it?” The blonde woman turned cold eyes onto the young reporter, the gathering wind blowing her loose hair around her face. “That’s awfully – familiar.” She turned back to Steve, once again acting as if Staci were nothing more than an inconvenient piece of furniture – an ugly lamp, perhaps – that was getting in the way of the conversation “But you’re right, Steve. You’re right. I just worry about you, is all.”

“I’m sure you do.” Steve replied swiftly, lowering his head. “But there is no need, and you don’t-”

“Oh, of course I do!” The change in her tone and manner was whiplash fast; suddenly sweet and light, like strawberry souffle; her smile soft, her voice trilling. “After all, we’ve been dating since we were fifteen years old – did he tell you that?” Her gray eyes rested on Staci for a moment. “Real high-school sweethearts, faithful through and through. Thirteen years together. Did he tell you that?”

“Actually, it was twelve years.” Steve muttered, dragging his foot through the grass at his feet. “And no, I didn’t tell her that. I didn’t talk about my past relationships at all, Dawn, on account of this being a professional interview about the life and times of a rider and his business.”

“Well, ‘Staci’-” Dawn smiled as she said that, despite the way she spoke Staci’s name; like a word in a foreign language, as if she should be drawing air-quotes around it with her fingers. “Well, if you want to get the real dirt on a man, you need to talk to other people! No man is ever honest about who he really is. Listen. Honey.”

She pulled a small ivory-white handbag around to the front of her body and unsnapped it, taking something from inside. “Have this.”

Staci looked down to the embossed pale gray square of cardboard that Dawn was holding out to her, and cautiously took it. She half expected something bad to happen, at the moment that she did.

“That’s my card,” Dawn continued in a sing-song voice, snapping her bag closed. “Call me, if you want to know the real deal about old Steve Law, here! We’ll have lunch.”

That sounds – nice? No, not nice. What’s the opposite word for ‘nice’? I should maybe take her up on it, just to see how ‘nice’ it could possibly be. I always liked horror movies.

“Well, ah. Thank you, Miss…” Staci looked over the card in her hand, at the name, number, and company details printed in slanting cursive. “Miss Ashleigh.”

“Don’t even mention it, honey!” Dawn turned eyes lined in dark smoky gray back towards Steve, tilted her head, and offered one last, dangerous kind of smile. “I’ve got all the stories, don’t I, Steve? But I have to go now – business before displeasure, as they say.”

“It was nice meeting you.” The lie was so blatant, it almost numbed Staci’s lips. “Take care, now.”

Steve didn’t say anything at all, he stared at the blonde’s retreating back, striding away towards the ranch house with the swinging stride of someone who owned the place. Staci glanced his way, noting his tight jaw and fists curled in his pockets.

Well, that was – tense. Yes. ‘Tense’ is one way of putting it. “Are you okay, Steve?”

“Fine.” He didn’t exactly sound it. “Just. Fine.”

“We, ah…” She heard her own voice, an octave higher than usual, as if it came from someone else. Someone younger, less sure of herself. Clearing her throat, she started again. “We can call it a day, if you like.”

“It’s fine. Like I said. Just fine.” He turned his head towards her, expressionless. “I just kinda fancy a drink, is all. An ex will do that to ya.”