Or is she about to laugh in my face? I’m prepared for anything.
“Hmmm,” she begins finally. “It says here that you’re the advice columnist. What has art got to do with that?”
I was ready for this question too. “Nothing. But I could write this as well. I’ve done all the research. I know a politician’s wife is wearing a piece of jewelry that I recognize as one of the items stolen from a transport truck earlier this year.”
She lifts her brows. “How wouldyouknow that?”
My face hurts from the effort it takes to smile and pretend her condescending smile doesn’t infuriate me. “As I was saying, I worked on a story earlier this year that led to the recovery of over one hundred items. I ate, breathed, and lived that story for two years, and I am familiar with every single piece. They were stolen while in transport the MAAHC.”
A smirk pulls up one side of her mouth and she huffs in dismissive amusement. “You think an politician’s wife is wearing a piece of stolen jewelry?” Her words are dripped in skepticism that sends chuckles rippling around the room.
I sit up straighter and let their humor at my expense roll off my back. I’m used to being dismissed and have learned to appreciate the power in being underestimated. They won’t be laughing when this story gets A1 placement.
“Iknowshe is. I spoke to one of the people who used to make deliveries for the individualIbelieve is behind the thefts and the sale of the items.”
She leans back in her seat. “Youbelieve? Oh good, let’s just chase tips based on vibes and gossip.”
I’m too insulted and surprised to respond.
She looks at Kathy. “I thought you said she was sharp.”
Kathy glances at me with something like panic her eyes. “She’s still learning how our desks work.”
“I see.” Sofia wrinkles her nose.
“Well, your belief isn’t going to save us in a defamation suit.” Disappointment slices through me like a knife to the gut and the backs of my eyes burn.
Asshole editors in chief aren’t anything new. But the dressing down in front of the entire newsroom is.
Heat creeps up my neck, and I don’t shift my weight, but I don’t want her to see me sweat. I push my emotion aside and put on my combat gear—my unshakeable faith in myself. “No, but my extensive research will.” I flip open the file in front of me. “I only knew this person by the moniker they use to sign off on the communications I was able to access from several well-placed sources in law enforcement.Now I know their real name,andthat they will be in DC for an event on Saturday. It’s VIP, by invite only. Except of course the press pass.”
“How do you know he’ll be there?” Sofia interrupts my breathless monologue with an unreadable expression on her face.
“I have a source who has direct knowledge of their attendance.” I dodge the trap set by her use of a male pronoun, and her snide smile compresses into a pinched, tight-jawed sneer.
My training has taught me to keep thinking even when my body’s instinctive response to perceived danger turns me into a bundle of quivering nerves and roiling insides. Her raptor-like focus and over-the-top interrogation is a tell. I’m sure of it, but of what, I don’t know. I catch myself chewing my lip and force my jaw to relax.
She leans forward, her eyes keen on me. “Is your source from the venue or from this person’s organization?”
“Why is that relevant?”
Something flickers across her face before an angry frown wipes it away. “It speaks to the reliability of your tip. But you’re right. It is irrelevant.” She folds her hands in front of her and the cold satisfaction I detect in her eyes tells me everything before she turns her attention back to my editor.
“Kathy, you’ll need more before you can justify issuing a press pass for an event like this. If he’s invited, I assume he’s someone with power and connections. We can’t afford to piss anyone like that off right now for a story that’s not important.”
My stomach falls. “I can show you my research, the articles about the pieces that were missing from the batch that made its way from New York. I’ve seen the ring, and I know he’s the person who sold it.”
Sofia holds up a hand to silence me.
“I’ll remind you that you are a lifestyle reporter.”
“Yes, but—”
“Stay in your lane.”
I’m still seething when the meeting is adjourned. I gather my things and focus on getting out of this room.
“Arsinoé, I’d like you to stay.” This comes not from my boss but Sofia herself.
