Page 94 of The Apparent Trap

“What’s up?” I ask, knocking on her door and trying to play it cool. She motions for me to sit down.

“How’s your week going?” she asks. “Nice to be here on the quiet times, isn’t it?” If she sees me sweating, she’s making no indication of it.

“Oh yeah, it’s been good,” I reply. “I’ve been working on a lot of the Olympics segments, and I think they’re turning out well.”

“So that’s actually one of the reasons I wanted to chat with you,” she says, and my pulse beats faster. “One of a few. But I was going through your scripts and looking at some of the early cuts, and I just have to say you did a phenomenal job.”

That perks me up a bit. Maybe I’m not here to get a talking-to.

“You got a ton of content, the B-roll looks great, we’re going to be able to get more segments out of it than expected. You really upped your game on this one, well done.”

“Thank you,” I reply. Sarah is not one to bullshit, and she’s as straightforward as they come, so a compliment from her feels particularly meaningful.

“So that sort of feeds into my next topic. The higher-ups have decided to give Carmen a full contract. She’s done great in this trial period, and we want to keep her front and center.”

“That’s amazing,” I reply, genuinely thrilled for Carmen. She deserves it.

“But a big piece of that has been you. You’ve honed her segments to focus on the right angles. You’ve done such a great job positioning her and ensuring her success. The trip to Sweden really proved that. Knowing we can send the two of you out on an assignment and that you’ll knock it out of the park is invaluable. So we want to give you a promotion to officially be an anchor producer, which means you’ll get to fully focus on special projects and segments with Carmen, and have a lot more involvement in the direction of the third hour of the show.”

“Really?” I ask. I’m bowled over. In the current state of broadcast television, it’s lucky to have any job, and I’ve felt already like getting to be a producer at the top-rated morning show is a bit like a unicorn role. But to get this kind of promotion, especially at my age? It’s humbling.

She chuckles, clearly enjoying having stunned me. “Yeah, absolutely. I don’t think I have to tell you that everyone outside of the digital space is losing younger demos. Part of the goal with Carmen was to counterbalance that. The Olympics is one of the biggest platforms we get to bring new people in, and we really think the two of you together are perfectly primed to help with that.”

“The Olympics?”

“Oh, yeah, we’ll want both of you to go back to Sweden to cover the Olympics when they’re happening. Can I count on you for that?”

I think of that first real conversation I had with Carmen all those months ago. I want to cover the Olympics in February, she’d said. So much life has happened in between, but there’s something amazing about stating a goal and then seeing it come to life. I’m proud of us.

“You can absolutely count on me for that,” I reply.

“Great, the team is reaching out to your agent to talk about updating your contract for the new title. But in the meantime, after the holidays, I want you to start sitting in on the planning meetings with the senior producers.” She stands. “You’re moving up, Ezzie. Congratulations.”

I scramble to stand up to meet the moment. But in her Sarah kind of way, she’s already turned around and charged out of her own office, onto the next task of the day.

I exit behind her and make my way over to the talent offices. I poke my head into Carmen’s.

“Did you hear?” I ask. Her grin tells me everything I need to know. “We’re going to the Olympics!”

“We’re going to the Olympics,” she says. “Bucket list dream activated.”

“You’ve gotta slow down, or you’ll run out of bucket list items,” I joke.

“No such thing,” she says. “I think we’re going to do a lot of bucket list things together.”

“That, or maybe you’ll just get sick of me first.”

She tilts her head, seemingly not content to let me joke my way out of this. “In all seriousness, thank you,” she says instead. “I know I didn’t make this start easy, but you got us here, together. I’m really grateful that we’re a team. I’m so glad I get to take this next step with you.”

“Me too,” I reply, genuinely excited for what’s ahead.

I finish the work I need to get done, then head out for a lunch date with my dad.

It seems like our new ways of doing things are actually sticking. We made this lunch plan a few days ahead, rather than him stopping into my office like I’m an intern who needs looking after.

Maybe every part of my life is inching ahead in tandem, no piece pulling the other behind it.

My dad insisted on Café Sabarsky, which is so him. The restaurant inside the Neue Galerie is the kind of highly specific but classic old-school New York destination that he loves—a wood-paneled room that you could go to for a Viennese pastry in off-hours or get a full-on schnitzel if you wanted a meal.