Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I took a deep breath, then let myself in Jasmine’s office. At The Squawker, it had been completely up to her. She was the lead editor, and any decision about the magazine’s content basically rested in her hands. Here, she was a team of editors, who reported to a lead editor who then reported to a content analyst, who then fed information up the chain to analytic experts, then a PR team, and finally to the board of directors who reviewed everything. Basically, she had the power to toss the ball up, but several other people had to catch it and keep tossing it upwards after that for the idea to land.
“Hey,” I said.
Jasmine smiled. “I loved your last piece on the kidnapped journalist. I think you really skirted the line between drumming up sympathy without making it feel like you had too much of an agenda. It was really perfect.”
“Oh, thanks,” I said. Honestly, I barely remembered the piece. The work here felt more like moving through motions mindlessly than any kind of creative exercise. “I was actually hoping I could show you something. It’s my pitch from The Squawker, but I’ve been really working to clean it up. I even did a fresh pass last week to make it fit more with the direction of The Union Coast, and–”
Jasmine gave a tight smile that said everything. She knew this sort of thing didn’t happen. Writers didn’t pitch ideas. We didn’t rock the boat. Everybody just showed up and did the work. The big ideas were for the higher-ups. But Jasmine was nice enough to recover quickly and smile wider, sticking her hand out for the drive. “Well, let’s see what you’ve got, shall we?”
I handed it to her and hovered over her shoulder, giving my practiced breakdown of all the elements. She nodded politely and said encouraging words at several points. When it was all over, she took a long breath and swiveled in her chair to face me with hands in her lap. “I’m going to level with you, Darcy. I can’t pass this along. Do I think it’s brilliant? Obviously, I do. But there are some complicated politics in management here. One of the guys above me thinks I’m gunning for his job. If I send this along, he’s going to think I’m trying to prove I can make bigger calls and want out of editing. He happens to golf with a guy on the board of directors, which means he can shit-talk me out of work as much as he wants.”
My stomach suddenly felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. I was surprised when my face twitched and emotion welled up in my throat. Don’t cry. Do not cry. I smiled and shook my head, even as tears welled in my eyes. “It’s totally fine. I get it. I’ll just take this and get out of your hair.”
“Darcy,” Jasmine said, standing and hugging me tight. “I’m sorry. I really am. But this just isn’t the sort of place where you’ll get to have that kind of voice. It’ll be easier if you accept that.”
Tears fell freely now. I wasn’t just crying because of the pitch. At least I didn’t think I was. I was crying because I’d been hanging onto this last little flicker of hope for months now. I’d lost The Squawker. I’d lost Dominic. I’d lost seeing my friends every day and traded it for the “professionals” I worked with now, who barely left their offices and never wanted to meet up after work. It felt like I hadn’t had a win in so long. I just wanted a win. Was that so much to ask?
Jasmine misunderstood my crying and hugged me tighter. “I’m so sorry, Darcy. You know, if it would help, I could talk to Bryce. Maybe he could take a look and pass it up the line?”
I could tell from her tone she was only trying to help calm me down. She was right. Of course she was. This sort of thing didn’t happen at The Union Coast. I was spinning my wheels. “Yeah, sure,” I said, voice still thick with emotion. “I’ll run it by him. It’s no big deal.”
I went back to my office and locked the door. I sat down with my back against the door and sank to the floor. I’d cried my eyes out in Jasmine’s office, but all I felt now was numb. What was next? What now?
Somehow, I felt like the one person on Earth who would understand how I felt right now was Dominic. Even though our dreams had been different, I felt like we were driven by similar forces. He would’ve understood and known what to say. Then again, knowing what to say and being nice enough to say it were two different things.