Chapter 41

I must be the most naïve person in the universe, I decide, as I watch Amber storm off toward Lila’s office.

No matter what is said in that office right now, I really don’t want to hear it, so I focus on my first assign task of brewing fresh coffee.

It’s slightly demeaning. I feel like I’m being treated like an intern rather than a hire with a journalism degree, but I am not above menial work. So long as that’s not all there is. I have ambitions too, same as anyone.

With the coffee refreshed, I make my way back to Lila’s office, just as Amber is leaving it. She smirks at me as she passes by.

When I enter the office, Lila has stopped looking at the computer screen. Instead, she is on the phone.

“Please send me a copy of the new hire’s resume,” Lila says. “I want to go over her qualifications once more.” There’s a long pause, in which Lila sees me enter. She doesn’t even try to cover for what she is doing. “What do you mean there’s no resume on file?”

“If there are questions of my qualifications, I would be happy to discuss them directly,” I say.

Still with her phone to her ear, Lila asks me, “How exactly did you get this job?”

There’s a voice on the line. I can’t hear the words but I watch the way they make Lila’s face shift. Her annoyance doesn’t ebb, but her confusion clears.

“Mr. Harbinger is usually more… conservative with his hires,” Lila says. “I hope you can understand my confusion. Yes. Thank you.” Lila hangs up the phone.

Lila doesn’t confront me then, as I expect. Instead, she returns to her computer and continues scrolling, ignoring me entirely.

I stand there for ten minutes this time, before she hands me a printed out sheet of paper and tells me to deliver it to one of the reporters.

“They’re in the cubicle pit.”

That’s the only lead I get.

My frustration is spiking, but I’m determined to make this work, no matter how demeaning. Even so, wandering through the cubicle pit is actually somewhat thrilling. This, it seems, is the heart of the news company.

Here, reporters are bouncing ideas off one another. They’re making calls and tracking down leads. Some people are tying away, wracking in those words per minute, the fire of determination burning in their eyes.

This is where I want to be.

Unfortunately, I’m just a visitor in this land of wonders. Too soon, I find the reporter I’m seeking.

“Thanks,” they say as they accept the paper. It joins a stack on the corner of her desk. Will she even read it? Wouldn’t an email have suited better?

Taking a chance, I glance at her screen, eager to suck in as much of this vibe as I can before I have to return to Lila’s soulless office.

The news article she’s working on surprises me. Across the top of her word processor, she’s written, Rep. Miles Hamilton: Sources Talk of His Playboy Past.

She immediately catches me looking and flashes me a grin. “You’re new, right?”

I nod.

“Trick to know in this town? Everyone’s a gossip for the right amount of cash.”

In my logical thoughts, I know that my name is unlikely to be anywhere near that article. Miles and I were a one-night thing. I’ve personally seen all the women falling over themselves to get closer to him. Any of them could be the ones coming forward.

It doesn’t have anything to do with me.

Yet it still bothers me. If not because I’m worried that I’m involved… then why?

I struggle with the answer, not wanting to face the truth. Yet in my heart, I can’t lie: I don’t like thinking about Miles with other women.

Slinking back into Lila’s office, I report, “The letter has been delivered.”

“Did she read it?” Lila asks.

I hesitate. “No. She just added it to a pile.”

Lila sighs. “God, you are bad at this. If I give you something for one of the staff, you have to make sure they read it, got it? If I wanted them to ignore my missives, I’d just email them.” Lila prints out another copy. “Here. Now, this time, make sure she reads it.”

The day continues on like this, one menial task after the next. Every visit into the cubicle pit is one that fills me with envy, as I watch others do the work I know I’m capable of. I just need to be given the chance.

To be given that chance, I need to earn it. And the only way to do that is to follow what I’m told.

The day blessedly ends, but when I go in for the next, it’s much the same. Again, the following day. And again. By Friday, I’ve refilled the coffee 13 times and delivered 78 messages. All the rest of my time, I’ve spend standing by the corner of Lila’s desk watching her read at her computer.

I know I need to hold my tongue, keep my head down, grin and bear it. But my patience is running thin. I have skills. I can help people carry some of the load around here. But I need to actually receive real work.

“Lila, please,” I say, when I’ve finally reached my limit. “If there’s more I can do, I’d be happy to –”

“You should be happy to even be on the premises,” Lila says. “I don’t know what kind of favor Hugo owes your father, but you don’t deserve to be here. Everyone knows it but you.”

“I have a journalism degree,” I say.

“What year did you graduate, Esther? In all the time between then and now have you ever, even once, put that degree into practice?”

“I can show you my skills,” I say. “But you have to let me. Please. Let me do something real.”

Lila abruptly stands. “You think you’ve earned that? Just because you are an Owens’ kid –”

“Is there some problem?” Hugo asks, suddenly in the doorway.

Lila pales slightly. She swallows hard. “No, Sir. I was simply answering a question that Esther had.”

Hugo looks at me, as if for confirmation.

The thing is, I know I could tell Hugo the truth and he would defend me. He might even reprimand Lila, or assign me under a different supervisor.

But that would solve nothing. Worse, it’d only further Lila’s point.

I know, even if no one else does, that I don’t need anyone’s help to succeed. I will excel. And I will do it on my own talent and skills.

Maybe my last name is a reason that Hugo hired me, I don’t know. But I’m going to show all of them that I’m capable without that name.

“Everything’s fine,” I tell Hugo.

His eyes narrow, inspecting me. He likely can tell that I’m lying but he doesn’t press the issue.

“If you are sure…” he says, giving me one last chance to call out Lila.

Lila looks at me with a mix of confusion and surprise in her eyes.

“I’m sure,” I tell Hugo.

The minute Hugo steps out of the office, Lila’s eyes sharpen.

“You didn’t do that out of the kindness of your heart,” Lila says. “So what do you really want?”