Page 70 of Saved By the CEO

One version has the old renderings. One has the updated timeline but the wrong square footage. One has Andrew quoted as saying the project will “transform the area into a thriving new urban destination,” which sounds impressive until you remember that people actually live in that area and might not enjoy being described as a sad little pre-transformation wasteland.

I sit back, rubbing my forehead.

This is not my job.

Technically.

My job is to send the right document to the right person and keep Andrew’s schedule from collapsing like a cheap lawn chair. But the brief is wrong. It’s too corporate. Too shiny. Too much like BenCo is sweeping in to save a neighborhood that never asked to be saved.

It reeks of gentrification in a way that makes my skin itch.

So I fix it.

I pull the latest renderings from the shared folder, update the timeline, correct the numbers, and rewrite Andrew’s quote into something that still sounds like him, only less like he was assembled in a factory. Then I add a short note beneath the draft.

I’d avoid “transform the area” here. It makes the project sound like it’s being done to the neighborhood rather than with it. Suggest framing this around long-term investment, access, and working with local stakeholders instead. I also softened the quote so it doesn’t overpromise outcomes we can’t fully control yet.

Then, because fuck it, why not, I add three possible press lines in case they get questions about displacement, traffic, or affordability. Nothing fancy. Just clear, careful answers that don’t sound like they were written by a man who owns cufflinks.

I hit send before I can talk myself out of it.

For five whole minutes, nothing happens.

Then a reply comes from Marissa in Communications.

Good catch on the wording. Really good, actually. Did you write the suggested responses too?

I stare at the email.

Then I read it again.

Yes. Just suggestions, obviously, but use whatever is helpful.

Her reply comes less than a minute later.

They’re very helpful. Thanks, Carly.

I lean back in my chair and look at the screen.

The relief that moves through me is immediate and wildly disproportionate. I take a sip of coffee and try not to look as pathetically grateful as I feel.

One person in this building treated me with kindness and respect, and I’m sitting here like I’ve just been handed a blanket after surviving a shipwreck.

Truly thriving, aren’t I?

NINETEEN

The email comes as I’m getting out of the shower.

I’m in the middle of wrapping a towel around myself when my phone pings from the sink. The screen is half-hidden behind a layer of steam, but I can still make out the sender.

Atlas Development

I wipe condensation from the screen with my thumb and open the email.

Dear Carly Michaels,

Thank you very much for taking the time to interview for the PR Manager position. We appreciate your interest in Atlas Development.