Chapter 22
Caroline
I found myself thinking about Harrison Blackstone more and more lately. Granted, I was working on his biography. I should be thinking about him.
But it wasn’t just professional. I was actually looking forward to going down to his office and meeting with him. Learning more about the billionaire and finding ways to thread my new knowledge into the book.
My laptop was filled with notes now. The outline for the overall book was beginning to take shape. That was how massive projects were taken down. A little bit at a time, building the framework, then filling it in until it was a cohesive narrative.
Like outlining a portrait in pencil, then filling it in with paint.
I loved the feeling of progression. Of starting with a blank page and slowly, deliberately, turning it into something real. I got that feeling when working on pieces for the Wall Street Journal, but it was so much more satisfying on a larger project. More work, more payoff.
And speaking of payoff… the advance for the book was finally deposited into my bank account. One morning I logged in to pay my bills and there it was, a six-figure amount that woke me up better than any shot of espresso.
I made good money at The Journal, but nothing like this.
The first thing I did was send my agent her cut of the advance.
Then I tossed a large portion of it into my retirement account.
There was still plenty leftover, so I took myself shopping on Saturday.
Bergdorf Goodman was pricier than I expected, but I still walked away with three new designer dresses.
Having a personal tailor in France had spoiled me.
“You’re looking lovely today,” Rafael said one afternoon at the Blackstone the anteroom was empty. But his dedicated admin assistant was smiling at me through the glass in the next room.
Before I could leave, my phone rang. “Hey Eddie, I was just finishing up down here. I’m on my way back to the office.”
“The article you sent me this morning,” he said in a careful tone. “You’re three hundred words short of the requirement.”
“I didn’t want to add a bunch of filler,” I argued, pacing in the anteroom. Idly, I wondered where Rafael had gone.
“But you didn’t even mention the value of the dollar dropping,” Eddie said. “Which was the entire point of the article, to bring that up indirectly in relation to the overall market.”
Shit. He was right.
“I’ll fix it,” I promised. “I’ll be back in the office in half an hour.”
“The deadline was an hour ago, Caroline.”
“Give me an extension. I’ll have it before the end of the day.”
“Caroline…”
Something about his tone made the hair on my arms stand on end. “Eddie, I messed up. But if you’ll give me a chance to fix it—”
“No,” he said, cutting me off. “I’m sorry, Caroline, but I need to reassign your remaining workload.”
“Eddie, let’s not do anything rash.” The admin was trying to get my attention through the glass, but I ignored her. “I know I haven’t been meeting the standard that you’re used to…”
“This isn’t a rash decision, Caroline. This is something I’ve been thinking about for the past month. It’s for the best. You can focus on the biography, and come back to work fresh. I don’t want to do this…”
“Then don’t.”
“It’s already done, Caroline. Your work has been reassigned.”
A hundred arguments popped into my head, but I knew none of them would work. Eddie had made up his mind.
“This is just until you finish the biography,” Eddie insisted. “Take some time to process everything. Then we’ll get lunch next week to talk it over.”
“You’ve made it very clear that you don’t want to talk about it.” I hung up.
It felt like a punch to the gut. Like I had been fired, even though Eddie reiterated this was only temporary. But I couldn’t help but take it personally.
Still ignoring the admin’s persistent waves, I stormed back into Harrison’s office. He blinked in surprise, then smiled.
“I’ve changed my mind,” I said. “I’ll go with you to the Caribbean.”