Ava
Famously inept
Emily
Have you checked Twitter?
Ava
I have avoided all social media. Don’t tell me there’s a viral video of me yelling at Zach.
That would be just great. Internet infamy. How embarrassing to have the entire world know that a boy doesn’t want you.
Emily
I wish there was—I’d have paid good money to see that. But this is something else.
Ava navigated to her social media. She scrolled through a few inane takes before seeing what Emily was talking about.
Several people had quoted-tweeted her articles. One had the subject line:
@jenniBtraveling: Can’t wait to revisit this quaint town. Thanks @AvaHarperChowsDown for reminding me of all the fun my family had on Jonathon Island.
The Michigan Tourism Bureau tweeted:
@MITourismBoard: Thanks for the shoutout to a great destination @AvaHarperChowsDown.
The notification number along the side of her profile kept ticking upward.
Ava’s fingers felt numb as she typed.
Ava
I can’t believe it.
Emily
I’m going to start introducing myself as Ava Harper’s friend. Might get me some street cred.
Ava
Ha ha. You do just fine on your own.
Emily
I’m so happy for you, friend. Enjoy your time in the spotlight.
She knew just how she was going to leverage this. And maybe she could make amends at the same time. She swung a jacket over her shoulders and pointed herself toward theChicago Herald. Better to face the bear than to hide behind a phone line.
A few minutes later she tapped Judson’s office door.
Judson looked up, and his face cracked into a smile. His Albert Einstein hair stood four inches high. “Ava, my new favorite food writer. Everyone is loving your pieces on the food festival. The first ones weren’t great. I knew you could rework them into something amazing.” He waved her in. “AP called, wondering if they could poach you, but I said you were happy here. Sit.”
Stacks of papers teetered precariously on the two chairs in front of Judson’s desk. One stack had a banana peel on top. Standing was a good option.
“I wanted to talk to you about those pieces.” She laced her hands in front of her. Suddenly her rehearsed words felt hollow. Some of the determination she’d had at home leaked out of her and seeped away.
“I’m way ahead of you.” Judson tapped at his computer, and then his printer started spitting out pages. “I’d love to see more proposals on stuff like this.” He handed the papers over. Ava flipped through them and found they were all ads for food festivals. The final page was an itinerary. “The higher-ups want you to write about more small-town festivals. They feel you’vegot the right voice for it.” He waved at the papers she held. “They’re willing to approve you working remote since they’ll have you traveling so much. What do you think about hitting the Desserts in the Desert cooking competition in Albuquerque, New Mexico? You’d have to leave in two weeks.”
