Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Margot
The buildings in Copenhagen are a kaleidoscope of different colors: the facades are white and brown and peach and brick red, the roofs green and orange and blue and black. Gammelholm, the prestigious downtown area where the offices of Politiken are located, is bustling at nine in the morning.
Businesspeople going to work, tourists meandering toward the nearby art museum, a stream of teens who rush into what can only be a school next door.
Sucking in a deep breath, I look through the viewfinder of my camera at the building that houses Politiken’s offices. I snap a couple of photos; I’ve been taking photos all morning, documenting my first morning in Denmark.
I love taking photos. I love the symmetry that can be found in a perfect picture of an everyday object. I love the pungent smell of the chemicals used to develop film. I’m definitely a nerd about photography.
As I stare up at the ancient cream-colored stone of the building, Pippa gently elbows me in the ribs.
“We’re already late,” she says, grabbing me by the arm. “Come on.”
Everything inside appears to be marble. Eschewing the ancient elevators as she tows me up the stairs, Pippa jogs down a marble hallway until we reach the doors.
Politiken, the glass of one of the doors reads. Nyheden kommer f?rst.
Pippa swings the door open and pulls me inside a big room with high ceilings and about thirty people working in cubicles.
A standard newsroom, it wouldn’t be out of place at any paper anywhere in the world.
No one even looks up at us when we rush in; the reporters are too busy typing manically or talking quietly on the phone.
Against the back wall are the glass-walled offices of people in positions of power here at the newspaper as well as a well-appointed conference room.
A tall blonde woman in her fifties stands across the office, watching us with an annoyed expression. Pippa curses under her breath and tugs at her pale pink dress.
“That’s Anna,” she says, picking up her pace as she makes a beeline toward the woman. I do a quick scan of Anna’s person and take stock of her wrinkled light gray pants suit and the stain on her white dress shirt.
A woman after my own heart. I’m wearing one of three pairs of black dress pants I own and a black Violent Femmes t-shirt paired with an oversize yellow cardigan. Seeing Anna’s disregard for dressing up bolsters my confidence.
Two seconds later, I stand in front of her and rethink my opinions.
“You two are quite late,” Anna says, looking down her nose at us both. She looks at me, at the Nikon camera on its strap around my neck, and she rolls her eyes.
Pippa jumps in.
“Yes. Sorry. We had some trouble trying to leave the house.” Pippa bites her lower lip, sliding her gaze to me. “But I brought Margot to you like you asked!”
Anna’s gaze tightens on my face. “Yes. So you did.” She spins, heading toward the back of the room. “Come to my office, both of you.”
We head back to Anna’s spacious office, sitting down in the chairs in front of her sleek chrome desk. She frowns as she types something into the computer at her side, then slides a drawer out.
“Margot!” she barks. I sit up, wide eyed.
“Ma’am?” I say.
She gives me a hard look before she hands over an employee badge.
“This will get you in and out of the building. You’ll need to fill out some tax paperwork at some point…
Max will get you settled with that.” She pushes back in her office chair, looking at Pippa and me.
“We should talk about the story you will be covering.”
I tilt my head. “Well… I came prepared with several ideas to pitch to you— “
“Enough,” Anna says, cutting me off. “Your assignment has already been chosen for you.”
I send Pippa a questioning glance. She shrugs and makes a quick I don’t know anything face. Anna starts drumming her fingers on her desktop.
“You weren’t aware of this already?” she asks.
It’s hard to tell what she’s thinking from her expression. Should I already know something?
Shaking my head, I feel my cheeks warm. “No.”
Anna grunts, but I still don’t have the slightest idea what she means by it. “I got the call late last night. You have been selected to work on a cover piece about Prince Stellan and his life.”
My jaw drops.
No.
No way.
It’s not possible.
One night together already made me flee New York. Any further contact between Stellan and me is just… a terrible, horrible, impossible idea.
Pippa, for her part, looks stunned.
“Oh, I can’t do that,” I blurt out, crossing my arms. “Give it to Pippa!”
Anna glares at me. “If I had my way, the most senior correspondent that usually gets her name on the most bylines would do the story. But obviously I had nothing to do with the choice, due to the fact that we had yet to meet.”
My brow hunches. “Who decided that I would do the story, then?”
“Someone from the royal family, I gather.” Anna scrunches up her face. “The question is, why?”
She puts her elbows on her desk, rubbing her lips. My cheeks immediately redden.
“I’m assuming that you are aware of the American tabloids and their… err… interest in me?” I tuck a strand of pink hair back behind my ear, chewing my bottom lip.
Anna glances at Pippa, then makes a show of pulling several brightly colored tabloid newspapers out of a drawer of her desk. Every single one features me on the cover, usually with an inset photo of Stellan.
She tosses them on her desk and then kicks back in her chair. “I’m familiar, yes.”
I clear my throat, unwilling to be shamed. Not for this, at least.
“I think that this is a bad idea,” I say. “I’m not sure why the order came from the royal family… but I have a bad feeling about it. Why sign up for something when I know out of the gate that I am going to be manipulated in some way?”
Anna glances at her watch and sighs. “This has honestly taken up more time than I care to devote to it. Either take the assignment or don’t…
” She smiles coolly. “But if you don’t, you can kiss writing goodbye for a year.
You can run research and get coffee for the office but bylines are saved for those who write whatever they are assigned. ”
My mouth falls open. “But... I mean…” I shoot to my feet, alarmed. “I… I don’t mean to be picky…”
She stands up, folding her arms across her chest. “Yes or no?”
I quail. “Uhh…”
“Get out,” she says, making a sour face. “I have to call the press office at the palace and tell them that you said no.”
A gray-haired man appears in the doorway of Anna’s office. He’s older, maybe in his late sixties, and impeccably dressed. From the way that Anna and Pippa straighten when they see him, I gather that he’s fairly important.
“Is this Margot?” he asks, smiling widely.
He sticks out his hand to me. I take it, not particularly understanding.
“Hi. Margot Keane.”
“Margot, I am Emil Dall. I’m the managing editor here at Politiken. I was told you are going to be handling the profile of our royal prince!”
My face heats. “Well, I mean… Anna did bring it up, but I just told her that I don’t want— “
He cuts me off, not even pretending to listen to my jabbering.
“Great! Anna will give you all the guidance you need. Not that we will be seeing much of you… From what I gather, you will be assigned to shadow Prince Stellan for a few weeks.”
“But— “
“And did Anna tell you about what we are offering as incentive to finish this piece?”
My eyebrows go up. So do Anna’s… which I think means she’s as in the dark as I am.
“No…” I say slowly.
Emil smiles even more widely, showcasing his teeth.
“We are looking for someone to run the arts and entertainment desk. If you take the job, you would be editing all the pieces and pitching your own ideas. It would be a huge thing for your career. You would be at the bottom of the editors food chain but above all the reporters. Ja?”
My eyes widen. Anna makes a choking sound, turning away and reaching for a glass of water on her desk. I glance at Pippa, who gives me a look that says duh! take it!
I clear my throat. “Thanks. I guess… I mean, how can I say no?”
“That’s the spirit!” cheers Emil. “You will do great, I’m sure.”
He turns to Anna, saying something pointed to her in Danish. Anna’s face colors a little but she just nods and thanks him.
“It was nice to meet you, Margot.” He smiles at everyone, puts his hands together, and bows. Then he marches out of Anna’s office.
Pippa reaches out to me, her eyes wide. “He doesn’t even know my name. And I’ve worked here for over a year!”
Anna glowers at us. “I’m glad that you changed your mind, Margot. You do realize that you will need to be extremely respectful when you are dealing with the royal family, ja?”
I wrinkle my nose. My heart still gallops against my ribs. “I know how to act. I wasn’t raised by wolves or anything.”
Anna’s eyebrows lift a fraction. “I don’t understand what you mean. What is raised by wolves?”
Yikes. Everyone I’ve encountered so far has spoken flawless English; clearly, I need to brush up on my Danish, not the other way around.
“I’m sorry, I— “
Anna flicks her hand at me impatiently. “Go set up your employee email and further instructions about this assignment will be sent soon. Now if you would kindly get out of my office, I’ve got an actual job to do.”
She makes a shooing motion with her hands as she sits down again, pointedly looking at her computer instead of us. I beat Pippa in the rush to get out of her office and out of Anna’s earshot.
Pippa pulls me over to her cubicle, still agog. “I can’t believe this is happening. Emil is a really big deal in journalism here. There’s an award with his name on it given out yearly to the best journalist.”
I pull a chair over from an empty desk and sag into it. Pippa sits in her chair, biting her lip. I lean back, looking up at the ceiling as I let out a sigh.
“What in the world am I doing?” I wonder out loud. “Other than upsetting the natural order of things by getting orders from the royal palace or what the fuck ever.”
Pippa sucks in a breath. “Oh god. Do you think…”
I glance at her. “What?”
“Do you think that Stellan asked for you?”
For a foolish second, my heart clatters around in my chest. Did he? Could it have been him?
Then I frown and shake that thought from my head. “I don’t know. My guess would be no. But then again, I clearly have no idea who is pulling the strings around here.”
“Hmm.” She puffs out her cheeks. “I can try to find out whenever I talk to Lars next.”
Her familiarity with the royal family makes me give her a crooked smile. “Sure, Pips.”
She bites at her fingernail, swiveling toward her computer. “All right. In the meantime, let’s get your email set up…”
I bob my head, sighing.