Maame(98)

“You should definitely say something.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“I know, but I mean it,” he says seriously. “I think when working in white spaces we can feel programmed to not rock the boat; like, we got a foot in the door and we should try to keep that door closed behind us. Which means you begin assigning any and all problematic issues to just being a part of the job. If someone’s not treating you right, you should say so. The milk jug might be difficult to explain—understanding why that shouldn’t have happened requires nuance—but the use of your creative ideas whilst excluding you is an issue that needs to be dealt with. Again, easier said than done, but so worth it in the long run.”

I wonder how things would have gone at CGT if I had given Katherine a piece of my mind. Instead I kept quiet, took her abuse, and got fired anyway.

“You don’t deserve to have other people’s comments and actions eat away at you five days a week, fifty-two weeks a year. My dad always says: ‘Regardless of how you behave, a lot of things are going to be out of your control because this world was made to test you. Protect your peace in whatever and every way that you can.”’

“Hey, Sam!” Kenny leans over the gate. “Our car’s here—ready to go?”

Sam gets to his feet, and I’m reminded of how tall he is. “Coming in?”

“No, I might stay here a while longer,” I say. “Thanks for talking to me.”

“It was a good talk.” He stops at the gate and calls, “Hey, Maddie?”

“Yes?”

“Good luck tomorrow,” he says, smiling yet again. “I’m rooting for you.”





Chapter Forty


When I walk into the office, rough samples of Love Stories sit on my desk with a note: Make sure Kris approves these today. I pull the note aside to read the proposed cover:

Love Stories from the Middle East

Afra Yazden-Blake & Co



& Co? They took my et al. suggestion seriously?

I leave the samples there and knock on Penny’s door. When she says “Come in,” I close the door behind me. I stand in front of her desk until she looks at me.

“Is everything all right, Maddie?”

“I’d like to take on more responsibility here,” I blurt out. “I wasted a lot of time at my old job because I didn’t feel I had anything to contribute, but clearly I do as an editorial assistant. I may not understand why exactly you changed Cooking Combos to Flavor Pairings, and paired the pear with cinnamon instead of chocolate, or changed ‘et al.’ to ‘Afra and Co’ but … those ideas did come from me.”

Penny doesn’t look angry, but I wouldn’t call her happy. Her jaw is locked, but at least I have her attention.

“Afra is getting a lot of attention online,” I continue, “and I brought her here. I’m just—”

“Maddie,” Penny interrupts, “it may have been your ideas, but it is us who employ you and us who put the resources behind those ideas. It isn’t just you here.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” I don’t know what I thought walking in here. If I could get fired from CGT for something I didn’t even do, surely this could be considered grounds for dismissal.

I think about apologizing and leaving her office when she asks, “Then what are you saying, Maddie?”

“I’m saying … I’m asking to learn,” I answer. “I think I could do more, I’m asking to do more.”

Penny suddenly takes her glasses off and pinches the bridge of her nose. Without the rim of her glasses, I spot the faint shadows resting under her eyes and I have the sudden urge to ask if everything is all right. I think again about leaving when she says, “What is it you want, Maddie?”

“A seat at the table.”

She raises her eyebrows and a smile fights the corner of her mouth.

“Sorry,” I say. “I was watching Mad Men last night and that sounded cooler in my head.”

Penny gently throws her head back and laughs. I’ve never seen her laugh before; it gives me enough confidence to continue.

“What I meant is, I’d like to be involved in the Creative meetings. The meetings I make tea for.”

“We still need tea, Maddie.” As I’m about to respond, she holds up her hand. “I know.” She sighs and gets up from behind her desk. “I’m sorry.”

I breathe out. “You are?”

“Yes,” she says. “I am. You’re right—you have good ideas, fresh ones. You’re innovative and assertive. When I was an editorial assistant, I didn’t have the courage to ask my manager for what I wanted and I should have. I always knew I should have.” She folds her arms. “I consider you an asset, Maddie,” she says. “It’s not a bad thing to recognize that, so, yes, you can join the Creative meetings.” She lowers herself behind her desk. “I still expect you to get your admin tasks done, however.” She closes her eyes and places a finger and thumb to them.

Fuck it. “Are you all right, Penny?”

She looks at me, her mouth slipping open, and for once I don’t see her mind working on something else behind the scenes. Then it’s gone and her mind is whirring again. She turns back to her computer. “Of course I am, Maddie.”