The truth was, I didn’t give a crap about Francisco Martinelli, but if my crusade against the snobbish food critic brought me to the attention of Edward Harvey, I owed the man big-time.
A knock sounded on the door, and the same assistant from before wheeled in a cart with a tray of delicious-looking pastries, small sandwiches, cups, and a teapot.
“Would you like me to serve, Mr. Harvey?”
“Yes, please. Thank you, Violet. Salvatore, take whatever you want. I’m supposed to be on a diet, but I can’t resist.” He placed two macarons and half a delicate salmon sandwich on his plate.
“Thank you.” I smiled at Violet when she gave me my teacup, but my stomach jumped around too much for me to want any of the food. “The tea is good for now.”
He brushed the crumbs from his hands. “So let’s talk about why I called you here. I like what you’re doing. And in the few weeks that my critics have been circulating in the outer boroughs, I’ve noticed a spike in our website visits and an increase in our newsletter subscriptions. A significant increase.”
“I’m glad my suggestion is working for you. And I’ve heard from some of the restaurants that their business has increased, so it’s helped on both sides.”
“Good, good. As I said earlier, I think you’re making your own mark in the industry, and that’s why I want to make a proposal.”
My heart beat faster. “Oh?” I was proud I managed to get that one word out and not squeak like a mouse.
The sharp eyes from earlier probed my face, but I held still. “I’d likeUltimate NYCto purchaseNew York for Real New Yorkers, and to work together to cover all of New York City. You would retain your position, but as part ofUltimate NYC, you’d be listed on our page as Executive Editor. You’d have an office here and would participate in our editorial decisions, including our weekly management and staff meetings. The position comes with full benefits and matching pension, but all those details can be worked out at a later date.” He popped a macaron into his mouth. “If you accept, of course.”
As Edward spoke, my mouth fell open. I half expected to see my jaw on the floor. I cleared my throat and coughed a bit. “So to make sure I understand, you want to buy my blog but still keep it running. We’d work together, and I would have a place at your editorial board meetings.”
“Don’t forget the staff meetings.” His eyes twinkled. “You and Martinelli sitting across from each other. I might pay you double just to see that.”
Still in shock, I asked, “What is the compensation?”
Edward reached over, took a pad, wrote a figure on it, then slid the paper to me. When I saw the number, I almost passed out. He didn’t seem to notice my freak-out. “Of course, there are also bonuses and perks.”
“Of course,” I said faintly, my gaze still fixed on the six-figure number.
“You don’t have to answer me today. Take a few days to decide, talk about it with your family. Are you married, have children?”
“No. I-I’m single.”
“What is it with you youngsters not wanting relationships?” He shook his head.
“I never said I wasn’t interested. I haven’t found the right person.”
“Well, maybe this change will help. You never know what might happen.”
