Page 82 of Ten Years and Then…
“Yes, Nora. You’re going to be covering it on-site for Modern Computing. Twelve pages. Maybe sixteen, depending on the photographs.”
“I’m no photographer.” Why had she said that? Why didn’t she just thank him?
He still had that kindly smile. “I’m sure you’re selling yourself short. But we are sending a photographer. You’ll be supervising him.” He chuckled. “Well, he’ll be on his own most of the time, but you’ll direct him as needed.”
“Uh—thank you. It’s an honor. I’ll do my best.”
“Of course you will, Nora. If I ever thought you were doing less than that, you wouldn’t be here.”
She wasn’t sure if she’d just been praised or chastised. Maybe both. Could you do both at the same time?
Daniel, July 9
Daniel took his dinner out of the microwave, to the disapproval of his roommate.
“There are a hundred restaurants you can walk to from here. Why do you insist on that TV dinner garbage?”
He and Jeff had had this conversation a hundred times. “Because it’s quick and easy and there’s one little tray to throw out afterwards.” It sounded lame to his own ears, but he didn’t want to tell Jeff the real reasons.
First, because every dollar he didn’t spend eating out went into his savings; the same reason he was sharing an apartment when he could afford to live on his own with his salary. And second, because he hated the loud, pushy crowds in this neighborhood; honestly, he kind of hated Chicago in general but the job was too good to think about trying to leave and move somewhere he’d actually enjoy living.
“You just want to get back to your computer and do work nobody actually asked you to do,” Jeff said. Well, that was true. “But maybe you’re the smart one after all. I shouldn’t be telling you, but you’re going to Kansas City next week.”
Daniel forgot about his dinner, and stared at Jeff. “For the conference? The National Technology Solutions Conference?”
“I saw your name on the travel list,” Jeff told him. Jeff worked in accounting, so it made sense he would be involved in travel planning. “You’re down as Team Lead for the main booth.”
He was supposed to go two years ago—only a few weeks after he’d started the job—but at the last minute, there’d been a change in plans and he—twenty-two years old and not two months out of college—had been left behind to supervise the whole office for the week. Then, last year, he’d gotten the flu the night before he was scheduled to fly out for the conference and his boss, Mr. Kincaid, had said, “Maybe next year, Typhoid Mary.” And that was that.
“You’re kidding,” Daniel said. Team Lead? He hadn’t even managed an intern, let alone six people. Why would Mr. Kincaid put him in charge of the company’s biggest booth at the company’s biggest conference?
“Something else I shouldn’t tell you—Kincaid put the paperwork through last week—you’re getting a raise, too. I may have read the letter to justify it, and, well, he is seriously impressed with you. And I don’t blame him. I can’t pretend to understand anything you’re working on, but I see you’re working your ass off on it. So you can skip the false modesty, and you can dump that fake food into the trash and let me buy you a real dinner to celebrate. Okay?”
Daniel didn’t think Jeff would allow him to refuse. And, honestly, as much as he disliked the crowds, he didn’t want to refuse.
He was well aware of how hard he worked. And—maybe it was bragging, but it was still true—how good his work was. If his boss was noticing, why shouldn’t he celebrate? His parents and teachers had drilled it into him all his life: hard work, and good work, would eventually be rewarded.
Maybe it was time to start believing that.
Nora, July 12
It went against everything in her nature. Nora never packed ahead of time for a trip, and she certainly never made checklists of everything she needed to do before she headed to the airport.
Only obsessive weirdos did that; but then again, they didn’t show up at the major conference they were supposed to cover without everything they needed to do their job properly.
So she had to act like one herself. Checklists it was.
Plane ticket? In her purse already.
Conference badge and press credentials? Same.
Pager number for Kenny the photographer? Written in her little notebook, along with the external numbers for Mr. Brooks, Jack Elliott, and Arielle from the company travel office. And the notebook was in her purse, too.
The Mont Blanc pen? Right there in her purse as well, just as it had been ever since Daniel had given it to her. Not a day went by that she didn’t use it.
But that wasn’t what she needed to be thinking about now, was it? Back to the list.
Map of the convention center, and full conference schedule? In her carry-on bag, along with her travel makeup kit and toiletries.
