Love Stories from the Middle East
Afra Yazden-Blake & Co
& Co? They took my et al. suggestion seriously?
I leave the samples there and knock on Penny’s door. When she says “Come in,” I close the door behind me. I stand in front of her desk until she looks at me.
“Is everything all right, Maddie?”
“I’d like to take on more responsibility here,” I blurt out. “I wasted a lot of time at my old job because I didn’t feel I had anything to contribute, but clearly I do as an editorial assistant. I may not understand why exactly you changed Cooking Combos to Flavor Pairings, and paired the pear with cinnamon instead of chocolate, or changed ‘et al.’ to ‘Afra and Co’ but … those ideas did come from me.”
Penny doesn’t look angry, but I wouldn’t call her happy. Her jaw is locked, but at least I have her attention.
“Afra is getting a lot of attention online,” I continue, “and I brought her here. I’m just—”
“Maddie,” Penny interrupts, “it may have been your ideas, but it is us who employ you and us who put the resources behind those ideas. It isn’t just you here.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” I don’t know what I thought walking in here. If I could get fired from CGT for something I didn’t even do, surely this could be considered grounds for dismissal.
I think about apologizing and leaving her office when she asks, “Then what are you saying, Maddie?”
“I’m saying … I’m asking to learn,” I answer. “I think I could do more, I’m asking to do more.”
Penny suddenly takes her glasses off and pinches the bridge of her nose. Without the rim of her glasses, I spot the faint shadows resting under her eyes and I have the sudden urge to ask if everything is all right. I think again about leaving when she says, “What is it you want, Maddie?”
“A seat at the table.”
She raises her eyebrows and a smile fights the corner of her mouth.
“Sorry,” I say. “I was watching Mad Men last night and that sounded cooler in my head.”
Penny gently throws her head back and laughs. I’ve never seen her laugh before; it gives me enough confidence to continue.
“What I meant is, I’d like to be involved in the Creative meetings. The meetings I make tea for.”
“We still need tea, Maddie.” As I’m about to respond, she holds up her hand. “I know.” She sighs and gets up from behind her desk. “I’m sorry.”
I breathe out. “You are?”
“Yes,” she says. “I am. You’re right—you have good ideas, fresh ones. You’re innovative and assertive. When I was an editorial assistant, I didn’t have the courage to ask my manager for what I wanted and I should have. I always knew I should have.” She folds her arms. “I consider you an asset, Maddie,” she says. “It’s not a bad thing to recognize that, so, yes, you can join the Creative meetings.” She lowers herself behind her desk. “I still expect you to get your admin tasks done, however.” She closes her eyes and places a finger and thumb to them.
Fuck it. “Are you all right, Penny?”
She looks at me, her mouth slipping open, and for once I don’t see her mind working on something else behind the scenes. Then it’s gone and her mind is whirring again. She turns back to her computer. “Of course I am, Maddie.”
* * *
In the afternoon, Penny exits her office and the editors gather around. The senior team, along with Sales, Marketing, and Publicity, are meeting in one of the conference rooms with an illustrator （I think her name is Charlotte） they’ve been watching for weeks. From what I understand, Charlotte blew up overnight because of a set of illustrations she did for a restaurant’s website and now so many food writers want her drawings in their books instead of photographs.
“Now, as I said,” Penny continues, “we found out from the agent that the primary reason we’re being considered is because they found out we pay our illustrators of color the same standard rate as our white illustrators.” She holds her hands up. “Apparently that’s not the case elsewhere. Now, Maddie, bearing in mind you will be one of only two people of color in this meeting of eleven and I have no intention of parading you around to prove some kind of point, do you want to attend? It’s up to you.”
I think there’s a contradiction somewhere in what she’s said, but I don’t really have time to think it through when half the office is staring at me.
Penny smiles and asks, “In other words, would you like to sit at the table?”
“Yes.”
* * *
The Griffiths Room is the largest meeting room in the building, with shelves of books and large bay windows, and is often reserved for the most important meetings. I straighten my trousers and pull my top from where it’s sticking. At least at Creative I’d know everyone there, but what if Charlotte starts asking me questions? Thinking on my feet is not an area in which I thrive.
We walk in and Penny says, “Charlotte, Sam, it’s lovely to finally meet you.”
I look around and it’s my Sam. I mean, Jo’s Sam!
He’s not as surprised as I am. “Hello, Maddie.”
“Sam?” I step toward him. “This is your important meeting?”
Penny looks at us. “The two of you know each other?”
“We’ve met once or twice before,” Sam says.
I just nod.
“Well, Maddie, since you already know Sam, this is Charlotte, his agent,” Penny says. “Please take a seat, everyone. Rosie will take our drink requests if you have any.”
I’m usually the one who makes the tea and coffee.
“Maddie, sit beside me, please.”
I never sit beside Penny. She’s usually flanked by other senior members of staff, of which there are many present today. I take the seat she gestures toward and diligently take notes as Rob from Marketing and Sadie from Sales lead the meeting. I sneak glances at Sam and my pen slips on the page whenever he catches me. He’s very good-looking, but then I think of what Shu said concerning my “funky taste in men.” Sam’s face is made up of hard, straight lines, but his brown eyes soften him. Maybe he’s only good-looking to me? I catch both Sadie and Thea staring at Sam’s lips whilst he talks.
Maybe not.
* * *
It’s an impressive pitch and Sam says as much at the end of the hour, along with, “I’m afraid I have to leave now.”
“Meeting with another publisher?” Penny asks.
Sam laughs. “No, I promise, and to prove it, Charlotte’s going to stay behind and catch me up later.”
Penny says, “In that case, Maddie will show you out.”
I nod—that’s fine. I usually do that, too.
Sam says goodbye to everyone and we’ve reached the building’s entrance door before he says, “You didn’t say much.”
“I tend to just take the minutes in meetings like that.”
He folds his arms. “Did you manage to talk to your boss in the end?”
“Penny, yes. That’s why I was even sat in your meeting. I think things are going to change, but only time will tell.”