Page 26 of The Apparent Trap

She looks up and smiles. Sarah is my favorite no-bullshit, buzzed-hair, same-button-down-and-slacks-every-day kind of boss. While the show has an executive producer who oversees the wider plan for each show, Sarah is in charge of the nine o’clock hour that Carmen’s the anchor for. So she’s usually the one overseeing my particular segments. “I just wanted to go over logistics for the next few weeks.”

“Awesome,” I say, loving nothing more than logistics.

“You got the memo about the Thanksgiving parade stuff, right?”

“Yup.”

“You’re okay being uptown when the show starts at seven for the live shot? I think getting Carmen talking about the holiday weather will be much cuter if she’s next to the balloons.”

I smile. “Yeah, I completely agree.”

“And then we’ll have the two of you come further downtown to chat with people as the rest of the broadcast is going on.”

The parade is a huge undertaking that functions differently than almost any other holiday for us. Normally holidays are our lowest-rated shows, since viewers aren’t in their regular routine. So on any holidays other than Thanksgiving, the main anchors get the day off and other reporters get their contract-mandated days in (yes, agents really do fight to get in writing that their reporters get to be the lead anchor for a few days a year, since it’s important to showcase that those reporters could do it. Which always ensures their clients are stuck hosting on the days no one else wants to be there. And then they still often end up hiring someone from the outside, like Carmen, when a slot opens up. Media, what a great industry).

But the Thanksgiving parade is practically the Super Bowl when it comes to daytime television—it’s a live event in a dying broadcast world, so the day runs differently to every other holiday. The main anchors, Georgia and Darren, will be the ones front and center for the entire time. Two of the later-hour anchors, Jenny and Tate, will be stuck in the studio for anything serious before or after the parade. And Carmen gets the fun gig of chatting to parade participants on the ground. We’ve got a day of baton twirlers, high school bands, and celebrities lip-syncing in front of us. I got to do it with Georgia a few times before she became the lead anchor, and it was a blast. Live events like this truly never get old for me.

“I’ve been briefed in by the APs working on the schedule, and I think it all sounds great.”

“Awesome,” Sarah says with a smile, always happy to talk less and do more. “So the other thing I want to talk to you about is the Sweden trip right after that.”

“Yeah, I’ve been coordinating with the Olympics producers, and we’ve got a really great slate. I think it’s definitely coming together.”

“The execs are super excited about everything you’ve got planned,” Sarah says, and I beam like the type A kid I am. “And as a result, the sponsorships team convinced the Swedish tourism board to commit to a lot more financing. They really love the idea of these kinds of packaged cultural segments, so they actually want to expand the trip a little bit.”

“Oh that’s awesome,” I say, thrilled especially that this plan is working well to make both Carmen and me look good. And I’m additionally, selfishly, kind of excited to potentially have more time because as the child of a weather nerd, it would be a true life bucket list item to see the northern lights—the natural glowing light phenomenon that happens when charged solar particles collide with earth’s atmosphere (yes, knowing this is also the result of being the child of a weather nerd). They’re prevalent in northern Sweden this time of year, but the more days you’re there, the better your odds of seeing them. “So how many more days do we need to add?”

“I think two more. It’s going to be great,” Sarah says. “First of all—and you’re going to love this—but Carmen said that apparently your dad has a conference in Stockholm that week, so we’re going to have him pop up for a few days, and he can give some climate context on location. You know how much we love having him on the show, and I think getting to actually shoot with him there will give a lot of depth to the stories we’re already planning, instead of just having scientist talking heads in a studio, you know?”

“That’s great,” I deadpan, trying to not let my head explode from the thought of suddenly being the third wheel on a romantic trip between my dad and my twenty-six-year-old coworker. She suggested that? What a lot of nerve.

I’m itching to open my mouth and be petulant—no boss would want to hear that their new hire is using her work trip to add in a vacation with her secret boyfriend.

But I obviously can’t say anything for so many reasons. Besides Carmen’s success being tied to mine, it would hurt my dad’s reputation too. And while I’m annoyed at him for not considering me when he inappropriately let Carmen convince him to tack on a few days to his own trip, I know it wasn’t on purpose. It hurts to know that he probably didn’t even realize it.

He probably didn’t think about me at all.

I have to shake all these feelings off. I guess I’m going to be sharing a lot of meals with Amir, my favorite camera guy.

“Totally, I think it’ll really round it out,” Sarah continues, oblivious. “And because a lot of the places you’re going will also have a culinary angle, we’re going to add on Lee Morgan to the trip as well.”

I inadvertently reach up to touch the top of my head—maybe to make sure it actually hasn’t exploded, or maybe to just poke myself enough to ensure I’m not in a nightmare.

And nope, I’m still here apparently.

“If they’ve got more financing now,” I ask, not subtle in the slightest, “you don’t think one of the culinary producers would be a better fit to do their own trip?”

But Sarah shakes her head. “Nah, I’m going to have another one of the local producers do a few days with Lee in Stockholm for those segments, since he’ll already be flying over and they’ll be there anyway. But since you’re already all over the northern Sweden stuff and you’ve built the relationships there and have all the contacts, I figured it would be easier for you to just oversee a few extra segments in that region too. I know you don’t normally do culinary stories, but I think it’ll come across better if the cultural segments are cohesive, and I trust you.”

“Well, thank you for that,” I stammer out, trying to not sound like a teenager about to throw a tantrum, even though that’s exactly how my insides feel.

“And listen, Ezzie, if Carmen’s trial continues to go as well as it’s been going and we make her permanent, that’ll reflect on you too. She’ll be doing a lot more travel if that happens, and you’ll get to go with her, which will really up your profile. If you want to move up beyond where you are, handling your talent and two separate contributors on a trip of this magnitude would be huge.”

I take a deep breath, her words sinking in and focusing me. This is about my own success. It’s mine. As much of a nightmare this particular configuration of people is, if it gets me further ahead in my career, I can’t let anything else distract me.

“Thank you, Sarah, I appreciate your confidence in me.” It’s the only thing to say.

“Well you’ve earned it,” she replies, and that at least makes me glow a bit despite all the other rain clouds surrounding me. “I’ve got the travel team updating the logistics, but otherwise, do you have the bandwidth this week to call a few of the people you’re already interviewing and see if they have a few ideas for how we best showcase rural cuisine? I want to get outside the typical fika and moose stories.”