Page 13 of Strum Me

Practicing my excuses, “I’m an old friend of the band blah blah,” I almost walk into the glass door of my editor’s office.

“Shit!”

“Ah. My star writer! Come in, come in!”

He sounds, and genuinely looks, happy to see me. How many drinks did he have with lunch today?

I open the door and step into his office.

“Hey, Phil…look, I know what you’re going to say—”

“Emily. This is my old friend, Dennis.”

I spin around, noticing the figure sitting on the couch for the first time.

“Dennis…”

“Emily, nice to meet you.”

We reach across the room in a handshake. But of course, there’s no need for introductions.

He smiles at me, holding my gaze, and then lets go of my hand, sinking back into his seat on the couch.

Fuck. I’m so going to get fired.

“So, Emily…” My boss starts, and I don’t want to hear it. Not after the day I’ve already had.

“This is so unfair, Phil. You hired me to be honest, you hired me for my ‘fresh opinion’ as you put it…well, that was it. And I’ll be damned if you’re going to censor me!”

The two men stare at me. Mouths open. And the silence is unnerving, so I try to fill the void by continuing my rant.

“And who are y—”

“Wait. What? What are you talking about?” Phil cuts me off.

“Wait. What what? What are you talking about? Didn’t you call me in here to tell me off for what happened at the press conference today?”

The two men now chuckle in unison.

“Far from it. We thought it was great.”

That can’t be right.

“Your question and Brad’s response has been on the airwaves and newsfeed since it happened. It’s all over the place. I’m surprised you haven’t heard it yourself,” my boss tells me in a manner I can only describe as gleeful, something I can’t say I’ve experienced from him before.

“Rolling Stone even tweeted that it’s about time music journalists stopped kissing the asses of artists for the sake of their careers and go back to asking the important questions.”

In the corner of my eye I can see Dennis nodding along. It’s not the reaction I expect from him.

“Okay, so I get why you are happy, bloodsucking editor that you are,” I say to Phil and get a grin by way of reply, “but what about him?” I gesture toward the band’s manager. “He can’t be thrilled I insulted his precious boy violin band.”

Dennis stands up again and walks over to where Phil is leaning against his desk, facing me.

“Emily, I’m not going to tell you that there’s no such thing as bad publicity. Because there certainly is, well, there is if you don’t know how to control it. But what’s going on right now? This is good publicity. Your dialogue with Brad was unexpected but entertaining. And it’s got people talking about the Rock Chamber Boys. And that, that is what I want.”

My eyes narrow at him. He can shove what he wants right up where he doesn’t want it.

“But I know, your job isn’t to please me.”