“Uh-huh.”
“Fascinating,” says Norm, rolling his eyes, “but we need to hear the concept, Amanda.”
“Animals being, um, crowded out of their space,” I say. “That’s the concept. People love an animal piece, right? With an environmental angle? We haven’t done one in ages. Kim is doing, uh, kids and vets and music. And Stacey’s got food and drink. We need animals. An animal piece. For summer. People will love it.”
Steve is staring at me, sawing at his chin with a stubby index finger. “Alaskan bears. Tell me more.”
“Well, we have decided…” I begin, glancing at Leigh and hoping she’ll just play along with me. “…to look into the, um, the changing behavior of the Sitka bears. They’re getting—crowded out of their natural habitat, and so they’re intimidating the locals. Why? What’s, um…What’s going on up there in—in, uh, Sitka?”
“An environmental angle, huh? Animals and the environment. That’s usually a win for our readers. We are Seattle, for God’s sake.” Steve is nodding slowly, but suddenly exhales loudly. “I’m not against it…but, I’ll be honest: it sounds a little dry. I’m not sure there’s enough there to—”
“Sorry, sir,” interrupts Frumplestein, a perennial ass-kisser and already on the ropes for the sponsorship fuck-up. “These ladies didn’t give me a chance to sign off on the pitch this morning. Bears. Eh. I think it needs a massage. Or maybe I can get Kim to jump on board, and we’ll just, um…”
I kick Leigh under the table, giving her side eyes and a crazy smile. A little help, please?
“There’s more!” chirps Leigh. “We have an uplifting, heartwarming idea you’re going to love, sir!”
“I like heartwarming,” says Steve, shifting his glance away from Norm. “People like this heartwarming animal stuff. It’s all over my damn Facebook feed. What’s the idea?”
“Well…,” she begins, “um, Manda is planning to go up to Sitka and…that is, we thought it might be awesome if…”
What’s awesome? What awesome thing are we about to do?
Suddenly, a brilliant smile—warm, deep and genuine, with more than a dollop of mischief—replaces the fake one. And, oh, shit. I know that look. It’s the look she gets as a very bad idea formulates in her head.
“Manda is going up to Sitka to do some first-hand reporting. And then we were hoping to—”
No, we’re not. I don’t know what you’re about to say, but don’t you say it. Don’t you dare say it!
“—organize a fundraiser here in Seattle for late-June. Manda will go up to Sitka to assess the, uh, the bear problem, and then we’ll have, you know, an event. Here. And all of the proceeds will go to, um, the bears. But the Sentinel will be the lead sponsor of—of the big event.”
I stare at her, my neck pivoting back and forth like a mechanical doll.
And Leigh, my sweet, demented bestie, is grinning at me like a cat who got the whole bottle of cream as she nods “yes” in perfect time with my “no’s.”
“Animals. Environment. Fundraiser.” Leigh pauses for effect, then booms: “Seattle Sentinel Saves the Bears!”
“Seattle Sentinel Saves The Bears! A fundraiser, huh? So…” says Steve, tenting his fingers under his nose as he looks at me, “you’re going to go up there and check out the situation, huh? Then come back here and get Seattle on board with fixing the problem? Hmm. Yes. I like it. Real-life reporting. A environmental angle. A story with heart. And a way to help.” He’s getting excited now and he raises his hands, spreading them like he’s reading a headline. “Join our very own Sentinel reporter on a quest to save the bears! A Beary Special Fundraiser! Or something like that…” He points to Norman. “Work on it. I want a catchy tagline for this one. It’s a winner.”
“Wait!” I jerk my head back to Steve. “Sir, I think Leigh’s overstated the situation a touch, because the fundraiser part of things was more of conversation we needed to have—”
“Nonsense!” says Norm, who knows me and Leigh well enough to sense that something hinky is going on here. “The Sentinel loves a fundraiser and you two have delivered the perfect idea!”
“Forget the beer thing. We have a bear thing! Ha ha!” Steve is practically preening in his seat. “The Sentinel will be the lead sponsor. We’ll be the Amazon of this event!” He points at Leigh. “Get Jody in accounting to cut you a check for the fundraiser expenses. You can ask a couple of the summer interns to give you a hand in planning.” He points at me. “I’ll give you two weeks in Alaska to get to the bottom of the bear issue. I want the column to run one week before the event.”
Now, first of all, I don’t actually know if there’s actually a “bear problem” in Sitka! For all I know, that headline was three years old!
And second of all, I have never organized a big scale event in my entire life. A few friends, a six-pack of beer and a package of hot dogs? I’m your girl. But a fundraiser? An actual, legitimate fundraiser with events and food and sponsors and all that jazz? Not my bailiwick. Not at all. And besides, I was hired to be a reporter, not a party planner!
Now, if my partner wasn’t 100 months pregnant, and the two interns weren’t morons, maybe she could organize the fundraiser while I researched and wrote the column…but, Leigh’s about to be totally out of commission, right? Which means I’m on my own researching and writing the article and planning the event?
Impossible.
“Thank you, sir,” says Leigh. “That sounds great. We’ll get right on it.”
We cannot possibly deliver what we’re promising, and when that happens, we’re going to be fired. I need to do something. I need to say something.
“You know, sir,” I start, trying to keep the runaway-train panic out of my voice, “if we could just peddle back a bit here, I really think that we need a little more time and—”