Chapter 5
“ H ow’d it go?” Veda pries as soon as I take the seat next to her in the conference room and pull out my laptop.
The room is mostly full at this point, with the last few people trickling in two minutes before the meeting starts. I look through the glass doors at Amani who’s still talking on the phone in the exact spot where she unwittingly crushed my dreams just a few moments ago, and give my friend a casual shrug.
“Total bust.”
The smile on V’s face quickly turns to sadness and she rubs my arm comfortingly. “I’m sorry… I really thought she would go for it, it was such a good idea!”
“Don’t worry about it, it was stupid.”
Maybe if I’d made a stronger case, if I’d arrived half an hour earlier like I’d planned and had time to polish up my proposal, it might’ve gone better for me. I could’ve explained myself better or buttered her up with a muffin from the café downstairs. Or, maybe it was doomed from the start and I shouldn’t have even bothered trying.
Veda opens her mouth to say something in return, likely to tell me that it wasn’t stupid and to have faith in myself like she always does, when Amani steps through the doors. The various conversations in the room abruptly come to a hushed silence when she sits at the head of the table, perusing the pile of documents I left in front of her chair. It stays perfectly quiet until the moment she looks back up at us and smiles, and I admire the total command she has over every room she walks into.
“Alright everyone, let’s get started.”
Lottie, our Health and Fitness columnist, raises a finger in the air in polite interruption, clearing her throat before speaking. “Marisol isn’t here yet, should we wait for her?”
Marisol is our Sex and Relationships writer. She writes on all things romantic and erotic, from the most intimate places in the city to have a first date, to the hot new vibrator that’s sweeping the nation. It’s Cassie’s favorite column.
“Marisol won’t be joining us today,” Amani answers matter-of-factly, jotting something down on the paper at the top of the pile. “I just got a call from her wife, it seems she has pneumonia and will be out of commission for the next couple of weeks.”
Worried whispers fill the room, including mine and Veda’s, before our editor-in-chief stands and wordlessly puts them to a halt.
“Which brings me to our first order of business. I’ll need someone to take over S the same fear that’s kept me from ever publishing any of my short stories. Or maybe it’s the nagging voice in my head that tells me that I don’t know anything about sex or relationships, since I’ve had very few of either in my life. Either way, I find myself paralyzed by fear, completely silent while the entire room awaits my decision.
Veda kicks my foot under the table and before I know what’s happening, before I’m able to really think the decision through, I’m blurting out “I’ll do it.”
“Fabulous!” Amani exclaims. “Marisol had already handed in two articles so there’s only one left to do. I believe we’d landed on something to do with Having a safe one-night stand at our last pitch meeting.”
From across the table, I hear Kira snort. It’s so faint that it’s almost imperceptible, but Veda and I pick up on it and exchange a knowing look.
“Problem?” Veda asks on my behalf, since she knows I never will. She’s my unapologetic protector, and I love her for it.
“It’s a fluff piece.”
“Your point being?”
“Is that really the message we want to send our readers? That this is the type of thing they should be worrying about?”
It’s no secret that Kira thinks the Politics column is the most—and frankly only —important one in the entire magazine. Ironically, I actually do think it’s one of the better-written ones (second only to Veda’s, of course) and that the topics she covers are important for our young adult readers. But since she’s such a nasty human being, I’ll never ever be telling her that.
“Kira, we’ve talked about this,” Amani interjects with a hint of exasperation, putting a stop to their squabble. “Whether you like it or not, sexual health is an important topic and the S this is your chance to let your voice really shine through.”
My voice? Do I even have one of those when it comes to Flourish? Will I be able to write something as fun and captivating as Marisol? Or will it crash and burn, obliterating my career as a writer before it even begins ?
“About that,” I say, gulping. “I’m incredibly grateful for this opportunity, really I am. But I was just wondering if you’re sure you’ve got the right person for this..?”
“Are you suggesting I made a mistake choosing you for this article?”
“ No , of course not!”
Rephrase, rephrase!
“I only meant that maybe the others had a point. I mean, I am just a copyeditor. I haven’t exactly had much experience in this area… What if I do it wrong? What if the readers don’t like my article? I just don’t want to let you down, is all.”
Amani sighs and folds her hands on her desk, and I immediately realize that chickening out after I’ve already agreed to it is what will let her down most.
“Do you know what I was doing before I started Flourish?” she asks me rhetorically, so I take it as a sign to stay quiet and let her tell me. “I was working at a bank. I had absolutely no experience in this industry, but I had a vision and I went for it.”
“Really? I had no idea.”
She smiles, seeming to remember that time fondly. “It wasn’t easy, but I put in the work and gave it my all, and now look where I am. I have a semi-successful business that brings me pride every day—amongst some stress and gray hairs.”
I chuckle at that, admiring how she can be both serious and witty at the same time.
“What I’m trying to say here is that there are no prerequisites to following your dreams,” she continues. “Try to look at this as an opportunity rather than a burden. I wasn’t lying before, I really do like your penny-pinching column idea. If you do a good job on this article and prove to me that you can do this, that you can write a compelling story and handle this kind of responsibility, it’ll show me how serious you are about the column.”
“I thought there wasn’t any money for another columnist?”
“It’ll be tight,” she nods, strain undercutting her smile. “But we could manage. You’re a hard worker, Gemma. If this is what you want, I want to help you get there.”
Oh my God.
This is it, my chance at being a writer. It’s really happening.
“Then again,” she adds, and I feel a twinge in my chest. “If you truly don’t feel comfortable writing it, I’m sure I can get someone else to do it. Perhaps Kira?”
My eyes nearly bug out of my head at that last part. I know exactly what she’s doing; she’s using just the right combination of words and the knowledge that I need to prove Kira wrong to her advantage. And it’s totally working.
“No, no, I can do it! I’ve got this, I won’t let you down.”
“Wonderful, you’ve got ten days,” she grins. “Make it count.”
I swallow hard, already starting to hear a timer tick away in my head.