“How did Courtney end up in North Dakota?”
“Who knows? Getting your first job-your foot in the media door, so to speak-can be difficult. If you’re smart-and lucky-you decide where you want to work after graduation and figure out a way to get an internship there. Then you network like mad and hope that someone will remember you when you need a real job.”
“In North Dakota?”
“Doesn’t seem likely,” Sondra admitted. “Usually people go after the jobs at the bigger stations, either New York, Boston, L.A., or Washington. She probably tried those and when, surprise, surprise, they weren’t enthusiastic about hiring a young person with limited experience right out of college, she looked elsewhere. She probably got a job the way the rest of us did: off the bulletin board in the mass-communications department at college. Who knows? It’s probably not important. What is important is that someone gave her a chance to anchor a show.”
“More than one show,” Sam said.
“Yes. Well, that says something, too, of course.”
“What?”
“Probably that she managed to blame the lack of success of the earlier shows on something or someone other than herself.”
“Sounds like Courtney hasn’t changed much since she was a kid,” Josie said.
“Well, go on, tell her what else you know,” Sam suggested.
TWENTY-FIVE
"WELL, I DON’T know anything, but I can guess. Both from the situation and from knowing Courtney-”
“You actually know Courtney?” Josie couldn’t help but ask.
“Yes, for a couple of years, in fact, but that’s jumping ahead in the story.”
“Go ahead,” Josie urged.
“As I was saying, those tapes show that someone-or more than one person-was willing to give Courtney a few chances to succeed as an on-air personality. There are three different shows bearing the call letters of the PBS station in Fargo, so someone there was working to find something that would work for her-”
“Just for her?” Sam interrupted with a question. “Doesn’t what you’re saying imply that the… on-air personality is solely responsible for the success of the show? Surely the topic, the production, other things I don’t know about, are at least partially responsible?”
“Yes, but what we see in those tapes-and they’re certainly only part of the story-is that Courtney survived and the shows didn’t.”
“And you think that means someone was promoting her, not blaming her for the shows’ lack of success,” Sam said.
“Yes. And then after those three shows, she moved on and tried again. Two more shows with short lives-not terribly surprising if you consider the joke about crewel embroidery she used to open one of them. And then, suddenly, success.”
“When? I only got through the first four tapes-skimming them really. What’s on the last one?” Josie asked.
“The first few shows of Courtney Castle’s Castles. A show whose time had come apparently. As far as I know, it was popular from the very moment it went on the air. Of course, remodeling shows have been on for years, but never with a woman in charge. My guess, having lived through a nightmarish remodeling of a loft years and years ago, is that many women believe things in their own home would have been different if a woman had been in charge of the work.” She smiled at Josie. “Well, you probably know more about these things than I do.”
“Island Contracting does get some jobs because the employer or homeowner is a woman and she thinks we’re more likely to listen to her-without putting her down-than some of my male colleagues. And, frankly, it’s true.” Josie glanced over at Sam and blushed. “But that’s not what we’re talking about here. Go on.”
“For whatever reason, the show was a success from the first. Courtney doesn’t know a damn thing about building or remodeling, any more than she did about embroidery or interior decoration or…”
“Or making apple chutney?” Josie suggested.
“Lord, maybe she knows more about it than that. Courtney is a dreadful cook. No one who has ever been forced to eat anything she’s cooked would ever suggest a show called Cooking with Courtney. She is one of those people who should stick to takeout. Period. But I digress-as I always do,” Sondra said, laughing at herself.
“You were talking about Courtney Castle’s Castles,” Sam reminded her.
“What is there to say? It’s been picked up by all the major PBS stations across the country as well as lots of the smaller ones. And it has made her a household name.”
“Are you connected with the show?” Josie asked.
“Not really, but a friend of mine was the original producer of the show.”
“You said he introduced you to Courtney,” Sam prompted.
“Exactly. He gave a big cocktail party the night the show premiered on the New York station. And he introduced her to me.”
“Did you like her?” Josie asked.
“Not really. My friend didn’t say anything about what I did to Courtney. He just said something like I’d like you to meet my good friend Sondra. She practically ignored me. She was-as she always was then-busy sucking up to the important people in the room. She thought I was insignificant and treated me accordingly. I don’t find that a particularly appealing trait.”
“But you got to know her better later on,” Sam said.
“And didn’t like her any better, as you well know. I thought you had retired. Aren’t you supposed to stop asking questions all the time?”
“Sorry. Tell it your own way.”
“Well, as Sam says, I did get to know her better, at first by hearsay and then in person. You see, my friend, her producer, and she had an argument. Well, they had lots of arguments. They argued about everything from the size of her dressing room and staff to the way the show was produced. Eventually he either quit or was fired. The story depends on who is telling it. So I heard every single detail of their feud. And then Courtney came to me and asked me if I would produce her show.”
“Take the place of your friend?”
“Yes, but don’t be horrified. It happens all the time. My friend wouldn’t have cared. He might have thought I was crazy after listening to him enumerate the disadvantages- hell, the miseries-of working with Courtney Castle, but he wouldn’t have held it against me if I’d said yes.”
“Which you didn’t,” Josie guessed.
“No. I’m old enough to let a few mistakes go by. But I did tell her I would work as a consultant on the show for the rest of that season-provide continuity when new employees came and the like. To tell the truth, I don’t know how I let her talk me into it. I knew she was a manipulative little bitch. I should have had more sense.”
“So it didn’t go well.”
“A disaster from the get-go.”
“Why?”
Sondra shook her head, obviously disgusted with herself. “It was stupid. She wanted more airtime. She wanted staff- staff, for heaven’s sake. We’re talking public broadcasting, not network television. There isn’t a lot of extra money to toss around. People send in donations to keep their favorite shows on the air; we owe it to them to be responsible. But Courtney was the star and she wanted to be treated like one. The very second my commitment was over I was out of there. And thrilled to be gone, I can tell you.”
“That’s when Bobby Valentine took over?” Josie asked.
“No, Bobby was there when I was around. How do you know him?”
“He’s the producer on this project,” Josie explained.
“You’re kidding! If you’d asked me, I would have said he’d be long gone before now!”
“Why?”
“Courtney and he were always fighting. When I wasn’t saying no to one of her outrageous, egotistical ideas, he was.”
“These days he’s saying yes,” Josie said. “You should see Courtney’s trailer-makeup table, couches, exercise equipment. It looks like it belongs to a rock star.”
“And Bobby Valentine is her producer? You’re sure?”