“We can’t just walk away from this, chief.” Veteran newspaper reporter David Pine, early fifties with the nervous energy of a chihuahua, paced the floor in front of his News Director, Lance Ludlow’s desk. Its surface was as empty and untouched as a piece of showroom furniture. This unsettling display of workplace vacuousness stoked Pine’s niggling paranoia about the guy. Dude came out of nowhere to manage a significant L.A. news outlet but he had no understanding of journalism.

Ludlow adjusted his cufflinks.

Pine hadn’t seen cufflinks since he’d viewed his grandfather’s open casket.

The News Director cleared his throat. “I don’t find anything viable in the direction you’re suggesting, Mr. Pine.”