Page 11 of Reaching Gavin

Except the PR team hadn’t dealt with this before. Or with anything. All the books and essays and presentations and tests weren’t the same as facing a pissed-off, antagonistic group dedicated to undermining our work. Most of my professors taught Public Relations with offensive tactics. I’d been told to get out ahead of problems and to control the spin when news broke. The cat was already out of the underwear drawer on this one.

“What you need us to do?” Trevor asked while I was still contemplating the existential crisis between the ivory tower and my first real world job. I imagined squishing Trevor’s head between my thumbs, but kept my attention on Gavin.

Gavin looked toward me. “We’re going to need to meet them in the middle on this. They’ll want things that aren’t possible. Like a restoration of the original screen or seats. As you can see, that’s not going to happen. If they’re reasonable, they’ll see that. But we can expect a lot of backlash for going in to do any work at all. We need to show them a plan where we modernize the theater while still maintaining as much of the original history as possible, and we’ll need our PR people ready to hit the ground as soon as our permits are approved.”

I raised an eyebrow and bit my lip before sharing my concerns. “Honestly, that sounds a little bit more like the work of your building department.”

“And it is,” Gavin agreed, “but we need a strong presentation with a clear direction that leaves room for their suggestions without leaving room for their protests.”

Why didn’t he just ask for a unicorn that vomited cupcakes?

He continued with his tall order. “We need a series of press releases that make us look like the good guys and some type of strong community involvement that shows that we’re there to help preserve the history of Capitol Hill.”

If we were going to do that it should be one step at a time, leaving lots of room for adjustment based on their reactions.

“What about a sponsored community event?” I asked, tapping my pencil on my Post-It notes and thrilling at the quick-fired repartee of the board room.

“We’ll need more than that. It will take at least nine months to finish this project — and that’s if we don’t run into issues with the permits. We need to be active in the community during that whole time, showing them that they don’t have anything to worry about, or we’ll start to get protesters, and union workers don’t like to cross picket lines.”

“Seriously?” It slipped out before I could hold it back.

“You’ll have to forgive her. She’s from Texas,” Trevor added as though begging forgiveness for the alien in the room.

“We have protesters in Texas,” I shot back. “I’m just surprised a committee could muster that kind of firepower.”

“There’s usually someone with money spearheading these campaigns,” Agnes started to explain. “Do we know who it is yet?”

Gavin shook his head, but I noticed the corners of his mouth tighten. He was holding something back. I stared at him wondering if he was going to open up, but instead he continued, “I suspect I do. I promise I’ll let you know as soon as it’s confirmed.”

I was no Agatha Christie, but I’d venture to guess he knew exactly who it was and for some reason he was holding this information back from the team. Gavin’s mystery deepened.

His politic answer was met by mutterings and the rumblings of fledgling conversations, but Gavin held his hands up and everyone fell silent. It was amazing to watch. Even though he was so much younger than many of the people in the room, they all looked to him for leadership. It was ridiculously hot. This wasn’t a college boy in front of me. It was a man, taking charge of the situation and showing that teamwork and responsibility could overcome.

“So, were going to throw the poor, helpless interns into the lion’s den on this one?” Agatha asked. She grinned impishly at me from across the table.

“I hope some of you will be helpful. But I think they can handle it. Actually, I imagine that they still have ideas about changing the world. They aren’t as cynical as the rest of us. Yet.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, smiling, as though self-admitted cynicism was just part of the job. I hoped I never got to that point. I hoped I still cared in five years and ten years and fifteen and twenty. Gavin gave me some hope. He might have lumped himself in with the cynics, but his actions proved otherwise. He still cared. I could see it in the actions he’d taken to help those who were most vulnerable. Then again, I learned that a strong offense was a good defense, maybe it was best to have a little armor when coming up against preservation committees or detractors. There had to be a balance. But whatever gooey, soft interior Gavin was hiding under that three-piece suit, he’d managed to be successful with a beating heart.

“So your only PR person is on maternity leave?” Trevor chimed in from the back, asking a question I wanted the answer to as well. Gavin turned his attention to him and nodded.

“Obviously, we’ve been growing at a really rapid rate. PR has always been important to us, but as we take on more projects like this, we’re going to need a bigger team. We will definitely be looking to expand as soon as Becky’s back and can be part of that decision.”

My opportunity radar went off and I straightened in my seat. That sounded like in a few months there would be jobs available. I wouldn’t be out of school yet. But if I did a good enough job, that would mean more than any resume coming across Gavin or Becky’s desk. Suddenly, this wasn’t a project.

It was an audition, and I was up for the lead role.