True Believer Read Free Page B

story,” Jeremy warned. “No one in television will be interested in it.”
“Not last month, maybe,” Alvin said. “But after seeing you tonight, they’ll be interested. You know how it is in television—all those producers chasing their own tails, trying to find the next big thing. If GMA is suddenly hot to trot, then you know the Today show will be calling soon and Dateline will be knocking at the door. No producer wants to be left out. That’s how they get fired. The last thing they want to do is to have to explain to the executives why they missed the boat. Believe me—I work in television. I know these people.”
“He’s right,” Nate said, interrupting them. “You never know what’ll happen next, and it might be a good idea to plan ahead. You had definite presence tonight. Don’t kid yourself. And if you can get some actual footage of the lights, it might be just the thing that GMA or Primetime needs to make their decision.”
Jeremy squinted at his agent. “You serious about this? It’s a nothing story. The reason I decided to do it at all was because I needed a break after Clausen. That story took four months of my life.”
“And look what it got you,” Nate said, putting a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “This may be a fluff piece, but with sensational footage and a good backstory, who knows what television will think?”
Jeremy was silent for a moment before finally shrugging. “Fine,” he said. He glanced at Alvin. “I’m leaving on Tuesday. See if you can get there by next Friday. I’ll call you before then with the details.”
Alvin reached for his beer and took a drink. “Well, golly,” he said, mimicking Gomer Pyle, “I’m off to the land of grits and chitlins. And I promise my bill won’t be too high.”
Jeremy laughed. “You ever been down south?”
“Nope. You?”
“I’ve visited New Orleans and Atlanta,” Jeremy admitted. “But those are cities, and cities are pretty much the same everywhere. For this story, we’re heading to the real South. It’s a little town in North Carolina, a place called Boone Creek. You should see the town’s Web site. It talks about the azaleas and dogwoods that bloom in April, and proudly displays a picture of the town’s most prominent citizen. A guy named Norwood Jefferson.”
“Who?” Alvin asked.
“A politician. He served in the North Carolina State Senate from 1907 to 1916.”
“Who cares?”
“Exactly,” Jeremy said with a nod. Glancing across the bar, he noticed with disappointment that the redhead was gone.
“Where is this place exactly?”
“Right between the middle of nowhere and ‘where are we exactly?’ I’m staying at a place called Greenleaf Cottages, which the Chamber of Commerce describes as scenic and rustic yet modern. Whatever that means.”
Alvin laughed. “Sounds like an adventure.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’ll fit right in down there, I’m sure.”
“You think so?”
Jeremy noted the leather, tattoos, and piercings.
“Oh, absolutely,” Jeremy said. “They’ll probably want to adopt
you.”

True Believer
Two
On Tuesday, the day after his interview with People magazine, Jeremy arrived in North Carolina. It was just past noon; when he left New York, it had been sleeting and gray, with more snow expected. Here, with an expanse of blue skies stretched out above him, winter seemed a long way off.
According to the map that he’d picked up in the airport gift shop, Boone Creek was in Pamlico County, a hundred miles southeast of Raleigh and—if the drive was any indication—about a zillion miles from what he considered civilization. On either side of him, the landscape was flat and sparse and about as exciting as pancake batter. Farms were separated by thin strands of loblolly pines, and given the sparse traffic, it was everything Jeremy could do to keep from flooring the accelerator out of sheer boredom.
But it wasn’t all bad, he had to admit. Well, the actual driving part, anyway. The slight