Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney and not to me.
Chapter 84: Driving a Hard Bargain
Katherine smiled in satisfaction as she typed the last sentence of her article. It was only a first draft, and she knew there were hours of editing still ahead, but it felt good to get the words out. Her interviews with the newsies the night before had fueled her fervor, and she'd arrived at the office bright and early, eager to begin work.
Now it was already late in the afternoon; the day had flown by as she'd sat typing away at her desk, drafting the article that she would present to the editors if - not if, when - Lena convinced them to give the story of The Refuge's continuing abuses some page time.
"What are you looking so smug about, Katherine?"
The former reporter looked up to see her coworker, Thom, giving her a curious but indulgent smile. "That's the same expression I see on my cat's face when he's just caught a mouse!" the photographer added.
"I'm writing an article, Thom," she answered.
"They gave you your job back? Katherine, that's marvelous!"
"I wish they had," she admitted, hating to correct him but touched by his enthusiasm on her behalf. "I'm still blacklisted. But that's not going to stop me from writing, even if I can't publish under my own byline." Briefly, she filled Thom in on the intent of her project.
"That's right, Lena mentioned something to me about that over lunch last week," he said, nodding in recognition once she'd finished her explanation. "If I'm not mistaken, her meeting with the editors is today, in fact."
Katherine felt her heart begin to beat a little faster.
"I hope they'll give you a shot," Thom said sympathetically. "I know those newsboys mean a lot to you, Katherine, and you've fought so hard for them with your words already."
"Your photograph brought their story to life, Thom," Katherine reminded him. "Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words."
He inclined his head graciously at the compliment. "Are you going to be including any photos with this new article?" he asked.
"An illustration, actually, drawn by one of the boys who spent some time in The Refuge himself."
"That's a brilliant idea - and he must have some talent to be able to capture the place like that."
"He is talented," Katherine agreed, smiling at the thought of Jack.
"Well, I'll look forward to seeing your article when it runs," Thom said encouragingly, stepping away from her desk. "Don't work too hard, though, Katherine - it's getting late already."
"Says the man who's always here working 'till all hours on photo spreads," she teased.
"Touche - that's actually what I'm about to go do now," Thom grinned. "Good luck, Katherine." He turned away and walked off towards his desk on the other end of the floor.
Katherine smiled, turning back to her work. A growing excitement was beginning to hum through her, knowing that at that very moment Lena could be speaking to the editors about the possibility of running a story on The Refuge. The thought gave her an extra boost of energy, and she pulled the last page of her drafted article from the typewriter and picked up her pen, ready to get to revising.
The next hour and a half flew by as she worked, cutting and rewording and sharpening her prose until she was satisfied with the result. She'd have to do another read-through eventually, since the length of the article would likely need to be altered, but at least she had something respectably polished to show if - when - the editors requested to see a draft.
Setting a clean sheet of paper into her typewriter, Katherine was just about to begin transcribing her marked-up first copy so that she'd have a clean version when she heard the sound of the door to the large conference room opening and people coming out.
She wasn't sure if it was the meeting Lena had been in or not, and she didn't want to look like she'd been eavesdropping, so she kept her eyes on her typewriter but listened carefully to see if she could overhear anything interesting. To her disappointment, most of the conversations that reached her ears concerned personal matters rather than business - the work day had ended nearly an hour ago, and the Sun's remaining employees were eager to head home. A few of them passed by her desk on their way towards the elevator, but Lena was not among them.
Katherine made herself wait for ten minutes, then casually got up and meandered over to Lena's office. Jenny, the secretary, had already gone home for the day, and the office door stood closed with the lights out inside.
"Looking for someone?" came a unctuous-sounding voice.
Katherine's hands clenched into fists and she willed her expression into one of forced civility before she reluctantly turned around.
"Yes, actually, Mr. Raber," she said cooly, looking the assistant editor in the eye. "I was looking for Lena, but it seems she's gone home for the day."
"She left right after our meeting let out," he confirmed. "And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Clarence, Katherine?"
"A few more times for it to stick," she answered, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
He chuckled. "Stubborn as always, I see." He took a step closer. "I don't suppose you were looking for Lena to find out how her pitch to the editors went this afternoon in our meeting, hmmm?"
Katherine nodded, her eagerness to learn any information she could about the outcome overriding her better judgment that she ought to curtail this conversation as soon as possible and simply wait to speak to Lena the next day.
"I'll say one thing for Lena," Raber remarked, leaning casually against the nearest desk, "she gave it her best shot. She really did - stuck her neck out for your little project, and nearly got her wrist slapped for doing so…" he let the statement hang for a moment before concluding, "but it was all for nothing."
"What do you mean?" Katherine demanded.
"I mean, the editors have no interest in running a story about The Refuge," Raber elaborated, giving her an indifferent shrug. "No one's going to want to read about the unpleasantries of a juvenile detention center, especially not when the folks with the biggest stake in it are just a bunch of homeless, scruffy kids, hardly contributing members to society."
Katherine's anger flared, but at the same time a knot of despair was forming in her gut as the weight of the assistant editor's words hit home. Another door was being shut, the door that she'd most desperately counted on being able to wedge open, the door that had been their best shot at breaking open the story!
"Of course...Lena's only a copy editor, hardly anyone with influence," Raber continued, abruptly breaking into Katherine's thoughts. "But if someone of importance was to put in a good word for you…" he gave her a shrewd look, leaving her in no doubt of whom he was referring to, "I'm sure the editors would reconsider their decision."
"You...think they would?" Katherine asked, hating how desperate the words sounded but unable to stop herself from saying them.
"Oh, I'm sure they would," Raber responded. He took a step towards her, his voice lowering as he drew near. "In fact, I'd be willing to speak to them tomorrow about it."
"Really?" Katherine held her ground with some difficulty, knowing that if she stepped back to maintain the distance between them she'd soon find herself against a wall. "You'd do that, Mr. Raber? Out of the goodness of your heart?"
"Not out of the goodness of my heart, Katherine," he answered with a humorless chuckle. "In exchange for something." He was standing uncomfortably close to her now, blocking the path of escape, and Katherine felt her heart pounding as she glanced frantically around the room, realizing too late that the floor was nearly deserted.
"And what would that be?" she asked pointedly. If only she could stall long enough to come up with a plan for how to get away!
Raber leaned over, close enough to murmur in her ear. "Dinner tonight at my apartment," he purred, and she shuddered at the suggestiveness in his tone. "That's all I ask. Just dinner, and tomorrow I'll make sure the editors agree to run your story."
Katherine involuntarily took a step back. "What you're suggesting is...highly unprofessional," she said, unable to keep her voice from wavering.
"Oh, I'm well aware of that," Raber smiled salaciously. "I'm also well aware that it's highly unprofessional for me to be talking to you like this right now…" he stepped towards her again, and Katherine felt the unwelcome press of the wall against her shoulder blades. "...but as you can see, we're quite alone. I've been patient with you long enough Katherine, and I'm offering you a dignified way of settling things...but if you'd prefer we do this the hard way, I think that can be arranged."
Anger surged within her at the insinuation in his words, and she told herself that if he took one step closer, she would wipe the smarmy look off of his face, job security be damned, but before she could follow through on her intent, a voice called out from across the room.
"Mr. Raber! Oh! Mr. Raber, thank goodness you're still here!" Thom hurried over, hastily butting into the conversation. "I've got some photo spreads all set out on my desk, the ones your office asked for, but I wasn't sure if the final decision had been for the half page or for the quarter page. I don't suppose you'd want to come and give me your opinion?"
"I was a bit busy," Raber answered between clenched teeth, giving the photographer an irate glare.
"Oh, it won't take a minute," Thom assured him, "just a quick once-over to see what suits better. I'd be obliged to you for your help, as I was hoping to get the page finalized tonight before I left."
"Very well," Raber conceded stiffly, straightening up. "But make it quick."
"Of course," Thom agreed. He motioned deferentially towards the opposite end of the floor. "After you, sir."
Raber brushed by impatiently, and Thom turned to follow him, but just before he did, he met Katherine's eyes and subtly inclined his head towards the door.
The message was clear: Get out of here. I'll handle him.
She didn't need to be told twice.
The doors to The Tribune building were beginning to close for the day when Katherine hurried up the steps.
"Excuse me!" she called out to the doorman. "I've business to conduct inside."
"I'm sorry, Miss, but we're closed," he answered.
"It's with Mr. Reid," she insisted, putting her hand out to stop the door from shutting. "I have an appointment." It was technically a lie, but if there was one thing she'd picked up from Jack, it was how to strategically slant the truth when the situation called for it. She and Darcy always made time for each other, so it wasn't really that far-fetched to claim their standing appointment, even if she was making it sound more official than it really was.
"Mr. Reid, you said?" the doorman hesitated.
Katherine nodded.
"Well…all right, I'll let you in," he conceded after glancing quickly over his shoulder. "I've seen you here before, so I know you're not a complete stranger. But don't make me lose my job for letting a visitor sneak in after hours, all right?"
"We never had this conversation," Katherine agreed, slipping in through the door and hurrying through the lobby and up the stairs. She made it to the ninth floor in record time; Darcy's secretary and coworkers had already left for the day, but as usual, the young man was still in his office, the lamp lit and the door slightly ajar.
Katherine approached slowly, not wanting to startle her friend. "Darcy…" she said quietly.
He jumped a little despite her efforts, clearly not expecting anyone else to be around so late in the evening. "Katherine!" He quickly got up to open the door wider so that she could enter. "What are you doing here?" he asked, pulling over a chair so that she could take a seat. "Is something wrong?"
Katherine sank into the chair, almost wanting to laugh at the irony of the question. Yes, there was something wrong - so many things wrong, in fact - but Darcy didn't need to know the details. She was here with a simple (if weighty) request, and she didn't want to waste time.
"Do you remember a month ago when I talked to you about The Refuge and the article I wanted to write?" she asked as her friend drew his own desk chair nearer so that they could talk.
Darcy nodded. "You said that you were going to pursue publishing it at The Sun. Have they decided to let you run it?"
Katherine shook her head. "No," she admitted, allowing a little of the disappointment to bleed into her voice. "They turned it down."
He gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, Katherine."
"I'm sorry too...but I'm not giving up," she said firmly, shaking off the discouragement. "If The Sun won't publish the story, I'll find someone else who will." She met his eyes in an unspoken question.
"And...that's why you're here, I take it," Darcy said slowly, shifting a bit in his seat. He sounded almost wistful, and she wasn't sure why. "You want to know if I'll pull some strings to run the article in The Trib."
"I know you were reluctant to say yes at first," Katherine acknowledged, "but I've exhausted my other options, Darcy. You're the only chance I have left."
Darcy abruptly rose and walked over to the window, looking out of it even though it was already too dark to see much of anything. Katherine could tell that he was agitated; his shoulders were stiff and his hands were clenched at his sides, but he didn't say anything for several moments while she waited impatiently, wanting to speak to his concerns, but knowing that she ought to let him voice them first.
After some time, Darcy finally said, "I don't know how much longer I can do this, Katherine." He looked at her, and she was dismayed to see the deeply troubled look in his eyes.
"How much longer you can do what?" she echoed, not understanding his meaning. "Darcy, I've never asked you for something like this before. I know you don't like to request favors from your father, and I've tried to respect that...but this is important!"
"I know it's important, Katherine!" he exclaimed, forcefully enough to make her startle. "But my feelings are important too, and you can't just - " he broke off, shaking his head as he turned away from her, too upset to complete his sentence.
"Darcy…" Katherine rose from her chair and walked over to him. "What's wrong?" The sudden outburst was completely out of character for him, and the pain in his voice was something that she was struggling to place, for she had never heard him sound this way before.
"You just don't get it, do you?" he muttered, turning slightly away. "You just don't understand."
"I'm trying to understand!" Katherine insisted, beginning to get irritated now. She didn't have the patience to deal with Darcy's enigmatic statements or emotional outbursts - as if she didn't know what it felt like to deal with a difficult newspaper tycoon who also happened to be your father!
"You don't understand how it makes me feel when, after we've been friends for all these years, you suddenly just stop dropping by for our walks and our lunches - without a word of explanation!" Darcy burst out, startling her with his declaration. "Maybe they didn't mean anything to you - but they meant something to me! And then I find out that you've been running around with this...this newsboy, and all you want to talk about is how wonderful he is and how he's changing the world with his words and how every time you're with him, you feel complete - and you never stopped to think that maybe those were words I've wanted to hear from you for years, Katherine - about me! But instead all you can talk about is this boy from the streets, who hasn't been at your side for years like I have but seems to have everything that you want, even though you've only known him a few months and he doesn't have a nickel to his name!" He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
"And then," he continued, his voice shaking a little, "after all that, you show up here, when you haven't spoken to me for weeks, and ask me to compromise my reputation for impartiality and risk my father's displeasure so that you can print this article - all to help the very same newsboy who displaced me in your life. And you ask it like it's nothing, like you just expect me to say 'Of course, Katherine! Anything for you!' because that's what I've always said!"
He shook his head. "I have always cared about you, ever since we were young. Ever since we met at the governor's party, years ago. And I have always made sure to make you a priority. I listened to you when you were struggling your first few weeks at The Sun. I supported you when you were bored out of your mind writing for the entertainment pages. I took you out to see a show whenever you needed a convenient excuse to get away from that assistant editor who kept vying for your attention. I was so proud of you when I'd heard you'd gotten your first article on the front page. I stepped in to help when you needed me to assist the newsboys. I incurred my father's anger when he found out about my involvement in the printing, and I didn't complain to you about it, not a word."
He gave her a long look. "But I can't keep doing this, Katherine...not when you consistently take me for granted. I'm not that impassive. So if you really meant what you said, think about how your actions over the past five months have made me feel. And then ask yourself if you were really trying to understand me a moment ago...or if you were just trying to accomplish your own agenda. Because right now I'm not sure if I've ever been anything more than simply a means to an end to you."
He held her gaze for a moment longer, then deliberately looked away, out of the window.
Katherine was dumbstruck.
"Darcy..." she faltered. "...I had no idea you felt that way."
He let out a bitter laugh. "Clearly."
"I...I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything, then," he suggested. "But maybe think about what I said." His voice was weary. "You don't owe me anything, Katherine, and all of those things I mentioned I did of my own free will...but I've come to realize now that I don't owe you anything, either. And maybe that was my mistake. I kept thinking that if I just held on a little longer, if I just gave a little more, maybe you'd finally see me. But it was a misplaced hope, and it's time to lay it to rest now." His voice held no malice in it, but there was a guardedness there that she had never heard before.
"I still care about you, Katherine, and in my heart I do want you to find success and happiness, even if it's not with me…" Darcy continued, his voice lowering. "But I cannot print this article for you. I'm sorry. I've barely gotten back on speaking terms with my father due to the last time I stuck my neck out for you, and I'm not willing to risk his anger again. You're going to have to find someone else to help you."
Katherine nodded, feeling numb even as she attempted to wrap her mind around all that she'd just heard. "I understand," she said quietly.
Darcy's expression softened at her concurrence. "Do you...want me to phone the lobby downstairs to have them call you a carriage?" he asked, not unkindly. "The doorman should still be there for the next quarter hour."
Katherine shook her head, feeling the sadness settle in. There was a time, not too long ago, where he wouldn't have had to ask. "That won't be necessary," she said. "But thank you." She took a step towards the door. "I'm sorry for importuning you, Darcy," she said sincerely. She wished she knew what else to say, but she was still inwardly reeling from his unexpected disclosure.
The look in Darcy's eyes was full of regret, but there was a finality there too as he politely but distantly bid her good evening. She knew that this was likely the last time they'd ever speak privately to one another, and that any association they shared from here on out would likely be of a strictly professional nature and nothing more. The thought saddened her, and she lingered for a moment on the threshold of the office in a final attempt to find something to say that could possibly ease the pain that she had inadvertently caused...but in the end, the words wouldn't come, so she settled for following Darcy's advice and not saying anything further, turning to leave his office behind without another word.
