Page 57 of Beni

Beni’s handsome features turned boyish in a blink, and she almost laughed. “So, something fun?”

“What’s your type of fun?”

“You’ll see.”

“At least two a month?”

Across the desk, Alessa Conti nodded, her smile soft. “Two articles monthly for the online publication, and that guarantees your pay. One will be a project you choose to work on—one will be promotional for the company that will be a team effort. However, I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that Manic Media’s reach spans far wider in the grander scheme. From working with Fortune 500 companies to perfect their brand in the media, to work in our communities to provide better opportunities to those who need it … we are constantly expanding and growing. There are many options for you here, August, and I would hate to see you pass them up.”

The woman leaned forward a bit, her messy chignon a perfect style to showcase the rope of pearls around her throat, as she added, “And I know you want your focus to be on journalism, which is why I offered the online publication—still paid—until you figure out where else you might like to work in this company. I read your article, the one that went viral a couple years back, on the distinction between a brand becoming a household name, and a brand that becomes part of a cultural movement. It’s the perfect example of not only can you write, but you see things in a perspective that others do not. It’s that kind of mindset that gives you a seat at the table, if you want it.”

God.

She did want it.

Badly.

And at the same time … things were not simple.

At Manic Media’s home office, set dead center in the middle of the city, it only became far more apparent to August how much she would fit into the place. Diverse, with a work environment that supported and encouraged everyone to not only do their best, but feel their best, it was a dream. At the home office alone, the ratio of women to men were five to one. Practically unheard of anywhere, but women were the face and driving force of the company.

All kinds of women.

August wanted to be a part of that.

She had every good reason to take this job.

“There’s a very good chance that when I go back home, I might have a place on the editor’s team at Bared Brands. I’ve worked three years—”

“Blood, sweat, tears, and all the rest, right?” Alessa asked.

“Basically.”

“And for what?”

August dragged in a breath. “Recognition. Respect. Working my way up.”

“Or driving their traffic by spilling yourself to their pages, but without anything to show for it on your side of things. They mine your talent for a payoff you never see.”

Hit me where it hurts, August thought.

Didn’t the truth always hurt?

“I know it feels like starting over,” Alessa said, “but in the end, it’s about what you want for your career. Is your goal to work for a company that has only given you something in return after they’ve taken everything else you had to give them, or is your goal tied into what you really want for your career and person?”

She didn’t miss how Alessa didn’t offer that choice with Manic Media at the forefront. Instead, she posed it as a choice August had to make based on what would be best for her, something she wanted and would do her good, or another thing that had yet to prove fruitful and worth it for her.

“The choice seems simple, doesn’t it?” Alessa asked.

“And yet,” August replied, letting it hang between them. “When is it ever?”

“What holds you back? How about we start there?”

She listed off the usual things.

Uprooting her life.

The change.