Rapid Falls(9)

My assistant, Michelle, rushes in with a coffee and a frown. “Did you see the story this morning?”

“Yes. I’ve been dealing with it for the last hour. Where have you been?” I’m taking a calculated risk that she was late again, later than I was. It’s important in my job to keep up appearances.

She looks down sheepishly. “Transit was slow.”

I sigh and reach for the coffee. “Just get Henry on the phone. I need to find his source.”

“Sure.” She walks out of the office.

My phone buzzes a few minutes later. “Henry is on line one.”

I click through. “Henry, we have to stop running into each other like this.” I laugh as I take a sip of coffee. I never let anyone see when they have landed a blow.

Henry laughs too. He knows the game. “Of all the natural gas plants in all the world . . .”

I chuckle again and then turn serious. “This might hurt you, my friend. Larry is mad. You need to get a source in the office before you write this stuff.”

“What are you talking about, Cara?” Henry sounds surprised, not defensive, which worries me. “You confirmed this piece. I thought you were calling to thank me.”

I feel a jolt of tension but keep my voice level. “Me?”

“Yeah, I got an email from you yesterday with a breakdown of the current employee list at the plant. I was going to text you today and ask if I could buy you a drink. You know, to say thanks.”

I pivot. “Right, right. I was just hoping you’d follow up before you went to print. I could have given you more context.” My brain is racing, trying to remember what I did yesterday.

“Didn’t need it. Tight deadline.”

“Hey, instead of a drink, how about a follow-up with Larry? I can get you an exclusive this afternoon. I think we have some new data that might round this out a bit.”

“You mean dull the edges? Yeah, sure, maybe. Text me later and I’ll try to spin something your way.” He sounds like he’s not really paying attention. I hate that he’s not committing to anything, but I need to keep a light touch.

“Okay, great. I’ll be in touch later. We’ll make it worth your while.”

“Sure. Later.”

I hang up and breathe in to slow the rising tide of stress. What had happened yesterday? Maggie. Rick’s increasingly frantic calls. Had I been distracted enough to send Henry an email without realizing it? I pull up my email and type Henry’s address in the search field. My stomach sinks. I find a message with a full breakdown of the employee details from the site, sent to all the senior managers and Larry. All the senior managers except one. Instead of sending it to Harold Graves, our financial manager, I’d typed in Henry’s email. A simple mistake, but one for which I could be fired.

Time for damage control. I’m good at this. I never let emotions get the best of me. I will come up with a plan and see it through. Like I always do. I type an email to Larry. He must not have noticed my error yet; otherwise the anger in his emails would have been directed at me. Larry has never been good at details. That’s why he has me. I forward the message from me to him with the text We need to talk about James. James is the name of my current intern. There is no shortage of eager, ambitious kids available to do the grunt work for a person in a high government position like myself. Kids who can be sacrificed on the altar of self-preservation. I like James and I’ll be sorry to see him go, but I can’t take the fall for a silly email error. I recite calming words to myself as I wait for Larry to respond. I never did stuff like this before I got pregnant, before I had a kid. As Maggie grew in my body, other parts of me began to disappear. The parts that remembered everything—the parts that were in control.

Larry arrives at my office a few minutes later, looking harassed. He is a good man stuck with a difficult portfolio, and I regret adding more challenges to his day. I’ve known him for years. He trusts me. He runs his hand through his hair in a weary gesture as he takes a seat beside me. “What happened, Cara? That information was in-house only.”

“I’m so sorry. I had James take over my email for a few hours yesterday. I had to leave to take Maggie to the emergency room.” Larry has two young children, so I know this information will affect him. His expression immediately changes from frustration to concern.

“Is she okay?”

I sigh deeply. “We think so, but it’s still a bit uncertain. She’s got transient synovitis.” I use the official diagnosis, knowing it sounds much more serious than it actually is. Larry gasps and I keep going. “We were in the emergency room until eleven last night. Maggie is still struggling this morning. It was hard to leave. Rick is handling it . . . but it’s been tough.”

“Oh my God, Cara. Give my best to both of them.”

“I will. Thank you,” I say solemnly. “How should I deal with James?”

“It’s fine. We can talk about that later. Just take care of your family. Do you need to take the day off, leave early?”

I press on. I need this mistake to be clearly and definitively the fault of someone else. “Sir, all due respect, this is time sensitive. I want to make this right. I’ve drafted a press release that illustrates that those data are only a snapshot for one month. In the twelve months preceding this, we’ve had nearly seventy percent employment from the local region. I can send it out this afternoon.”