“No, it’s what happens when you trust people to have genuine moments!”
The table goes very still.
“This is better than television,” Amber whispers to Jo.
“Should we leave them alone?” Jo whispers back.
“Absolutely not. This is the best thing that’s happened all week.”
“Can we please,” Michelle interjects, still grinning, “find a middle ground? Scott’s right that we need structure. Jessica’s right that we need heart. Both things can be true.”
I take a breath. “Fine. Compromise. We do the staged reveals, but we have backup plans. Authors who freeze get gentle prompts. Correspondents who can’t make it get video messages. And we build in buffer time between reveals so people can process.”
“I can work with that.” Scott is already typing on his laptop. “Twelve reveals, five minutes each with buffer, that’s ninety minutes minimum. We’ll need a holding area for authors before they go on. Seating charts so correspondents are near the front?—”
“You’re making a seating chart for an emotional literary event.”
“I’m making sure people can see and hear. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?”
“There’s a huge difference. Good logistics enable good emotions. Bad ones create frustration that blocks emotions.” He glances up at me. “I’m not trying to kill the magic. I’m trying to give it room to happen.”
Oh.
That’s...actually kind of sweet.
“Fine,” I say. “You handle the logistics. I’ll handle the magic.”
“Deal.” He turns his laptop toward me. “I made a column for ‘Jessica’s wild cards.’ Unscripted moments you want to build in. I left it blank so you can fill it with whatever whimsy you want.”
“You made me a wild card column?”
“I made you a dedicated space for unplanned magic.”
“That’s...” I don’t know what that is. It’s the most Scott Avery thing anyone’s ever done for me, and somehow it’s also sweet. “Thank you?”
“You’re welcome.” He turns the laptop toward me. “Does this work?”
I look at his document. It has tabs for “logistics,” “romance,” and “Jessica’s wild cards.” The romance tab has subcategories for “dramatic reveals,” “potential happy tears,” and “extra tissues just in case.”
He made a backup tissue plan.
“This is the most thoughtful planning document I’ve ever seen,” I admit.
“High praise, given your earlier comments about my number friends.”
“I may have been hasty about the number friends.”
“I’m writing that down.”
“Please don’t.”
“Too late. I’m adding it to the document.” He types something. “Under ‘unexpected nice moments.’ Jessica admits she was hasty.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
