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Chandeliers.
At a high school.
Because CATE, obviously.
“Since this particular building, Honor Hall, was the first building on campus, it had to be large enough to be a functioning school, dormitory, and a place of business for the founders of this institution,” Ezekiel said, pausing when he realized she’d stopped to gape at her surroundings. “For a time, the administrative part of the meatpacking industry for the Midwest was managed from here, which meant a need for entertaining clientele. This ballroom has seen quite a lot of history unfold within its walls. In fact, it was the backdrop for the official welcome-home party for one of NASA’s first astronauts back in the sixties. He was a graduate of CATE, of course.”
“Of course,” she said, shaking her head before remembering she was there to work. Tugging the camera out of her work bag, she removed the lens and gave Ezekiel a smile. “Is it all right if I start getting some shots for the story? Starting with you, if you don’t mind.”
“Me? Oh, my.” He fussed with his tie, a spiffy little bow in the school colors of red and blue. “I'm not even in costume. Apparently the faculty isn't exempt from tonight's masquerade criteria.”
The thought of this proper little man wearing a Hawaiian shirt or dressing up as a gang banger made her grin behind the camera. “How long have you been on CATE’s faculty?”
“Goodness me, I'm coming up on my fortieth anniversary working at this fine institution. Long enough to have former students become teachers and members of the board. The circle of life CATE-style, you might say.”
She took a couple more photos just to be safe. “That's certainly keeping it in the family.”
“It might seem a bit insular, but it works. Oh,” he interrupted himself, waving at someone across the room. “There's the headmistress now. Shall we go and say hello?”
“Lead the way.”
Even if Hannah hadn't researched the current head of CATE, she would have tagged the fifty-something, iron-haired woman as the person In Charge of Everything. The dress she wore was a reasonable facsimile of the dress worn by Juliet's mother, but despite that frivolous masquerade finery, Hannah could see the woman was a no-nonsense force of nature. Considering she’d been the head of one of the best private schools on the continent for over a decade, that sense of power was clearly well-earned.
“Headmistress.” Beaming, Ezekiel swept a hand toward Hannah. “May I present Hannah Raven, the reporter from Chicago Pulse? Hannah, this is the head of CATE and our constant source of inspiration, Charlotte Crutchfield.”
“Hannah Raven, my daughter's favorite YouTuber and influencer.” Headmistress Crutchfield turn sharp gray eyes her way. Hannah immediately decided no student would ever be able to pull anything on this lady. “I feel I should warn you, Hannah. You need to prepare yourself to be cornered later on this evening by a wildly enthusiastic, redheaded sixteen-year-old girl who would do anything to follow in your internet footsteps.”
“Even at the tender age of sixteen, when I started, it’s a doable goal to become a break-out influencer.” Now understanding which particular fan of hers had inspired her invitation to the fete, Hannah smiled after shaking hands. “I’d be happy to offer up any pointers or suggestions, if your daughter would be interested in hearing them.”
“Actually, I would like to talk to you about doing just that—specifically sharing your knowledge and know-how—on a much larger scale. Have you ever considered teaching a course on utilizing various social media platforms, and all that it requires to make it a monetary success?”
Hannah felt her jaw drop. “Teaching? Me?”
“Who better?”
She had no idea how to answer that. “The thing is, Headmistress Crutchfield, what I do is a lot more complex than what you see online. It’s not simply a matter of creating content on a consistent basis. It’s being proficient in digital editing and graphic design, as well as being your own IT specialist. I can’t count how many times I’ve had technical difficulties while livestreaming. I had to learn how to fix all sorts of computer issues and satellite plug-in crashes on the fly. And that’s just the bare-bones tech end of it. Once you start making a name for yourself and getting those clicks, you then have an entirely different side of the business to deal with in terms of marketing, contracts with sponsors, not to mention policing those who outright steal and upload the content you’ve created as if it’s their own.”
“So in other words, you really know what you’re talking about from every possible angle.” Charlotte nodded in apparent agreement. “Thank you for proving my point.”
Oy. “The point I’m trying to prove is that I’m one hundred percent self-taught. When I was in school, there wasn’t even a class that taught what I now do, so I obviously had to make it up as I went along. I don’t have a fancy degree on this subject, so I don’t see how I could teach—”
“You know your industry inside and out because it’s a lived experience—an experience that’s gone on for nearly a decade, and it’s still going strong. You might not have been accepted as a student here at CATE—and for that I would like to apologize to you personally, since it happened on my watch, and I pride myself in spotting exceptional talent. But if you’re interested, we would like to introduce a class to our students specializing in how best to monetize their skills on the internet. I believe you're just the person to teach it. It would only be one or two days a week, and we're willing to work around your schedule. Think about it,” she went on smoothly while Hannah continued to stare at her. “We obviously dropped the ball with you once, Hannah Raven. But now that you’ve been brought into our sphere, we're not going to let you go without at least making it hard for you to leave.”
Holy cats. “I... Thank you, Headmistress Crutchfield.”
“Make it Charlotte. We're a friendly bunch here. Feel free to put your bag on those tables if you get tired of lugging your belongings around,” she added, gesturing toward two side tables flanking a large tapestry in the school colors hanging on the wall. “We have security to watch over everything.”
“Thank you, Charlotte,” Hannah said softly, even as the headmistress and Ezekiel turned to greet a glittering, masked couple. Of all the wondrous things she’d thought she might find behind CATE’s imposing walls, the last thing she’d ever expected to find was a job offer.
Take that, Grandma. I’m good enough for CATE, after all.
Automatically she fished her phone out before she paused, staring at it as the surge of wild happiness ebbed. What was she doing? Was she actually thinking of calling Dalton, when she wasn't even sure where they stood?
I don’t know if I can trust you enough to keep on trying.
Damn it, she’d pushed him away, so hard he’d seemed all but convinced she wasn’t worth the effort.
She was such an idiot.
A heavy knot in her chest tightened as she moved around the edge of the ballroom, on the lookout for her next potential interview. Before Dalton, she’d never given much thought to the meaning of life or her place in the universe. She’d never belonged anywhere, except perhaps the internet, so thinking about such things was pointless. That had been one of the reasons why she’d enjoyed party-hopping so much. As she’d moved from place to place, party to party, she’d never had to face that once the party was over, she was all alone.
For years, she’d been okay with that.
