I wink at him. “Exactly. So, we’ll be working with an outside camera crew to bring these moments to the people and show them that Station 47 not only needs their trust, but also their support. The power of the people can’t be discounted, especially with Andrew Banks attempting to reallocate city funding.”
“Funding is already limited, too,” the captain interrupts. “Even with most of our operating budget coming from taxpayer dollars, we’ve still had to manage our costs in recent years by cutting salaries, using outdated equipment, and relying heavily on volunteers.”
I’m so thrilled by the fact that this grouch is speaking in complete sentences to me that I grin in spite of his words.
“Yes! Totally! And that’s why we’re going to couple this campaign with a donation drive.”
Hargrove shrugs. “I see the value in that, but I don’t like the sound of these episodes you’re describing. It sounds like reality television.”
“Well, because it is, Hale,” I counter cheerfully. “Less trashy, of course. But it allows us to control the narrative. We’ll make the people fall in love with you!”
Noah smirks. “The people already love me.”
“The people think you snatched a cat off the streets and chucked it into a tree, buddy,” Evan comments lightly.
“Okay, but I’m sure the people would be thrilled to learn that Mittens now has a safe home with a wonderful young couple in Park Slope.” Noah crosses his beefy arms. “I personally made sure he was brought to the best shelter in the city, and he was adopted in, like, less than an hour.”
“And we’re definitely going to put a pin in that,” I smoothly cut in. “Maybe we can have an entire micro-episode focusing on Mittens, time permitting. We’ll want to make sure we’re putting out daily content. Consistency is the best way to build trust and rally donations.”
“It’s a brilliant plan,” Evan says.
“Thank you,” Lou and I respond at the same time.
“It’s a circus,” Hale sighs.
“It’s your survival,” I counter. “And I’m devoted to ensuring it, sir.”
He lifts a brow at “sir,” but he doesn’t say anything.
I forge ahead. “That’s precisely why, if you read my most recent email, I suggested embedding myself here in the firehouse to produce twenty-four-seven content and meticulously manage the messaging.”
“I’m afraid that’s not poss—”
“In fact, I’ve already cleared it with your union,” I dare to interrupt. “As long as I remain in the mezzanine and sleep separate from the staff, my temporary residence at your firehouse is totally okay.”
I’m pretty sure the lady I spoke with said something about no fraternizing, and there’s a bunch of paperwork I still need to sign, but even Lou agrees it’s an essential part of my scheme. I think she’s probably just grateful that she’s not the one who will have to move into a glorified frat house for the next couple of weeks.
Captain Hargrove looks like he has about three hundred counterarguments locked and loaded, but Noah is wiggling like a puppy and Evan is smiling with absolute ease, so he’s clearly outnumbered.
Plus, I can see it in his gorgeous stormy eyes. He knows I’m a genius. He knows this plan will work. That it absolutely has to work.
“Alright, then,” he grumbles. “You’re the expert.”
I smile brightly. “Great. Let’s make you heroes again.”
Chapter two
Chapter Two: Lila
Ithink this is the part of my cinematic biopic where the camera does a freeze-frame and the beautiful actress hired to play me comes in with a voiceover saying something like, “So, I bet you’re wondering how I got here.”
Because even though this isn’t even one of my more elaborate schemes—you don’t grow up in rural Pennsylvania with big-city dreams in your heart without learning a thing or two about intentionally strategizing your way through life—I’m starting to wonder how, exactly, I ended up in this particular situation.
I did it on purpose, of course, but now that I’m standing at the threshold of my private dorm room on the mezzanine of Station 47’s bustling firehouse, I’m a little surprised that I actually managed to make this a reality in such a short time.
It’s similar to the way I felt when I clawed my way to a full scholarship to NYU. Or when I won that highly competitive entrepreneurship grant that birthed Hartstrings PR in the first place.
Or how, despite my parents’ nasty divorce and their dour personalities, I’ve somehow maintained a pretty damn positive outlook on life.
