The Stolen - Jason Pinter [115]
nothing ever happened?"
"That's impossible," Wallace said. "Jack's been here so
long some of his blood does run through this paper's veins.
But we have to move on. You've done some amazing work
in your time here, Henry. Jack has put down his mantle for
now. And I expect you to be one of the people to take it.
To carry it with pride."
"You don't take that because it's been thrown down,"
I said. "You earn it. I can't just take Jack's place.
Nobody can."
"That's true. So just do your job to the best of his ability.
Learn from his mistakes. Don't let your problems overwhelm you. Because at the end of the day, you're remembered for the end of your career, not the beginning. And
the saddest part of all this is a generation might only know
the Jack O'Donnell on the cover of today's newspaper."
I couldn't listen to any more. I slammed the door to
Wallace's office and left the building. Hailing a taxi, I instructed the driver to take me to Twenty-Seventh and Park.
The offices of the New York Dispatch.
I left the cab, throwing the fare at the driver, and entered
the building through the revolving door, feeling as if I
could tear the walls apart with my bare hands. A security
guard stopped me as I approached the turnstiles. He said,
"Sir, you'll need to check in and show your ID."
I went to the security post. Another guard sat there
looking bored. "Who are you here to see?"
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"Paulina Cole. New York Dispatch. "
"Do you have an appointment with Ms. Cole?"
"No."
"Does she know you're coming?"
"No."
The guard looked confused. "Sir, can you state your
business with Ms. Cole?"
"That's between me and her."
The guard eyed me suspiciously. Then he said, "I'm
going to have to pat you down." I let him. He found
nothing. "Let me call upstairs."
He picked up the switchboard phone and dialed a few
buttons. I was growing impatient. I needed to see that
bitch face-to-face.
The guard put down the phone and said, "Sir, Ms. Cole
is not picking up her phone. I can leave a message that you
stopped by."
"I can wait for her upstairs."
"No, sir, I can't let you do that."
"Listen, asshole," I said. "I'm seeing Paulina Cole
today. Whether you let me upstairs or not."
Just then I heard a commotion by the revolving door.
Several voices were congratulating someone. A throng of
people surrounding one person.
Then they parted and Paulina Cole continued walking
toward the turnstiles.
She saw me and stopped. She was startled for a
moment, then a slow smile spread across her face.
"Hi, Henry," she said. "It's been so long. Have you
been keeping up with the news?"
"You fucking bitch," I said, starting toward her. I didn't
take more than two steps before I felt a pair of hands grab
my arms and pull me backward. The security guards were
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holding me. I thrashed and struggled to get free. "He was
a friend to you," I spat. "How could you?"
"It was easy," she said, stepping forward. "And you
know what probably angers you the most, Henry? That
every word of it is true."
I tried to pull free, but then the two guards began
dragging me outside. We passed by Paulina. She raised her
hand, waved a sarcastic goodbye before the guards shoved
me through the doors and out onto the street.
I tumbled onto the sidewalk, then scrambled to my
feet. The guards stood there with their hands across
their chests.
"Sir," one of them said, "if you don't leave the premises,
we will be forced to call the authorities."
I took one step forward, hatred boiling inside me, but
then I stopped. Jack had been broken. Defeated. Getting
arrested would affect nobody but myself. Jack had been
an idol to me for years. I owed him more than that.
I left the Dispatch and took the train up to Jack's apartment. The whole way I sat there shaking, not knowing
what to say, what to think. After everything with Daniel
Linwood, now that Amanda and I seemed to be on good
terms, I'd finally felt like things were on the right track.
No more days drinking at bars by