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“Quality houses for low-income families!” I correct her, a finger raised in the air. “Like a planned neighborhood, with businesses, schools, and health clinics. Charge cheap rents, incentivize entrepreneurship, and soon, it’s generating jobs and adding to the economy. There are cases of it working all over the world.”
Liv nods, impressed, and I’m ruby red with the attention.
“Would be nice to publish a story about it,” she says, and I nod with enthusiasm.
“Brilliant,” I say, trying to keep my cool. “The more publicity it gets, the more donors I can find!”
She smiles, then gets ahead of me and looks over her shoulder. “Alright, Mr. Philanthropist, let’s go around the lake and get back. I want to see the kids riding!”
Liv goes ahead of me, and I follow her — I would follow her until the end of the world.
Chapter Twenty-Three
LIV
MarthaandIareback at Gail’s office, pitching her the idea for the new article, which is Alex’s vision for a planned neighborhood.
While she doesn’t seem completely convinced, she keeps on throwing us questions, which is a good sign, as long as we can answer them.
“Okay,” the boss starts, hands tented over the table. “So, Alex said there are similar cases all over the world, right? What do you say we focus first on those cases, then we mention San Francisco’s own Superman?”
I laugh, shaking my head. I’m positive Alex would hate being called that. Martha nods emphatically, giving a thumbs up to Gail.
“Agreed. I thought about going to Helding Heights, and other neighborhoods, to check what people think about the subject,” Martha says, straight to the point.
“Um…” I recoil in my place, unsure of Martha’s idea. “I’m not sure I want to go back to Helding Heights without Alex.”
Both Gail and Martha look at me, weirded out. I sense that I have to explain myself, but words are failing me.
“I…” I try, but it’s hard to bring it out. “A kid pulled a gun on me while I was there, and only Alex was able to disarm him. I can’t ask Alex to pose as security for me, but I don’t feel safe without him.”
Gail places a hand on her chin, then nods, understanding. “What if I send security with you?”
Martha and I look at each other, with eyes wide as dinner plates.
“Can the magazine afford that?” I ask in disbelief.
Gail shrugs. “I was thinking of giving Dennis a tip to take you there.”
“The doorman?” Martha asks.
“He used to be a security officer. Plus, look at the guy’s size!” Gail says, gesturing widely. “I’ll phone administration and see if I can loan him. You two go get ready!”
She slams her hands over the table, signaling that we are dismissed. Outside her office, Martha and I talk. “Great idea, genius, sending us to Helding Heights again!” I say to her with sarcasm.
“Oh please, we can always call the police!” Martha says, oblivious to the truth.
“There was no time to call the police when I had that gun pulled on me. Thank goodness Alex was there. He’s a former Navy SEAL, you know?”
“Oh!” she squeals, full of interest. “That I didn’t know!”
We get back to our desks, me to check on the latest batch of pictures, Martha to organize her dozens of notebooks. I go sit by her side once I’m done, and Gail comes to us about half an hour later.
“Dennis is all yours,” she says, arms crossed and face triumphant. “You’ll be taking a company car. Feel free to take all the time you need.”
“Thank you, Gail!” Martha says, all smiles. “Let’s go, Liv?”
“Let’s!” I say, resigned to my fate.
