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Chapter 1
“I like it,” Amelia Jones says, her green eyes gleaming the way they do when she’s excited about an idea. “Do some more research and see whether it has juice,” she adds and shoots Scott a rare smile.
Scott writes well-thought-out political pieces and is respected in journalists circles and of course here at The Life Style magazine. He taps his fingers on the conference table. He’s itching to get away and start working on his piece. That’s the kind of excitement I want to have for my job.
Impossible to though, when all I get are filler articles. Those spaces in a magazine that need to be filled between the main features. How-to articles, observations of daily life, amusing anecdotes, and things like that.
Amelia is now discussing different ideas with Joanna. She writes a health column and when they are done, I see my opportunity to pitch in some ideas I’ve been working on.
I clear my voice. “I have some ideas—”
“There’s one more thing,” Amelia says, frowning at me as though I’m the one who has interrupted her.
Joanna shoots me a sympathetic look and mouths, ‘next time.’ She’s my closest friend at the magazine and my greatest encourager.
I slump back into my seat and try not to feel sorry for myself. I’ve scoured through the internet, reading advice on how to get ahead at work. Being aggressive and putting yourself out there comes up again and again. I guess the writers of those articles didn’t factor in having a boss like Amelia who doesn’t believe that you can do more.
“We got a tip concerning The Anderson Clinic,” Amelia says and goes quiet for dramatic effect.
It works. Scott stops tapping his finger on the table and I sit up straighter. Everyone in Chicago knows The Anderson Clinic. It’s the largest fertility clinic in the state and is owned and run by the Anderson family. Amelia tells us that there have been grave errors at the clinic with women getting the wrong sperm but it’s all been covered up.
I’m not interested in the scandal but women choosing to get pregnant through sperm donation would make for an awesome feature. The very kind of human interest story that gets my blood pumping.
“There’s a temporary PA position working for one of the brothers.” Amelia stares at everyone around the table. “You know what this means. Working undercover to get the dirt. But first, you have to get the job. That means impressing Mr. Anderson and only you can do that.”
Uncovering dirt in a clinic is not my dream job but who knows about the contacts I could make there. I could write the stories I want to write and show my editor where my talents lie. My heart thrums hard against my chest as I raise my hand. I’m not the only one who is interested. There are four other hands up, including Joanna’s.
“It’s a PA job so I need someone who’s worked as a PA before,” Amelia says in a crisp voice.
Three hands go down. Mine is the only one that remains. Amelia frowns at me again. My stomach churns. I ignore the tremors in my body.
“Olivia, I’m not sure you’re experienced enough to handle this type of assignment.”
“I am,” I tell her with as much confidence as I can muster. I talk a mile a minute telling her about the two years I worked as a PA for a doctor. The fact that I have experience in a hospital setting is what convinces her that maybe I can do the job.
“Everyone has their first one big story,” Scott says. “Olivia can do this.”
More of my colleagues are speaking up, voicing their support for my abilities.
“Okay, fine,” Amelia says. “Don’t fuck this up. Your job is on the line.”
I try to suppress a grin and fail. This is my biggest assignment since I started working for the magazine a year and a half ago. Joanna gives me a discreet thumbs-up. For the first time, I feel like a real writer. I have an important assignment and I can’t wait to get started.
I’m in a daze for the rest of the editorial meeting. I’m not given to fantasies but I can’t help thinking that this is the beginning of bigger, better things. I come back to earth just as the meeting is coming to an end.
Amelia asks me to remain behind as the others file out. She stares at me hard. “This could be the scoop of the year. I’ll be honest with you, Olivia. I’m nervous about giving it to you but you do deserve it. You’re the first to get to work every morning and the last to leave. Put in the same effort at the clinic.”
“If I get it,” I remind her.
“You will,” she says but doesn’t explain further. “Leah will go over everything with you.” She pushes her chair back and stands up. “You’ll get double pay. From the clinic and from the magazine.”
I take a moment to take that in. Excitement courses through me. I love saving and I intend to save the second paycheck I get from the clinic. But this is not about money. This is about my career and the break that is finally within reach.
Amelia stands, picks up her folder, and tucks her hair, cut into a severe bob, behind her ear. I stand too. She looks me up and down, making me want to straighten my clothes even though I look perfectly fine with black pants and a pink blouse. Anything goes at the magazine. What matters is not how you look but what is between your ears.
“You need a new wardrobe,” she says. “The magazine will cover it.”
“Thanks,” I tell her.
