Daisy stood pouring herself a much-needed cup of coffee in the galley kitchen of the Global Human Rights Journal offices. Rain from her jacket dripped onto the linoleum floor.
Jude Laughton, the senior editor, looked up from the table where she was reading the headlines on a discarded newspaper and frowned. “You’re getting water all over the floor. Are you going to wipe it up?”
Though Daisy had worked for the journal in Washington, DC, for almost a year, Jude was still as cold as she had been the day Daisy interviewed with her.
“Of course I am. Just give me a minute.”
“Why don’t you carry an umbrella?” Jude asked.
“Because I keep forgetting to put one in my tote bag,” Daisy answered, a hint of annoyance creeping into her tone.
“It’s not that hard to remember. I keep one in my briefcase all the time.” Daisy rolled her eyes and walked to the paper towel dispenser on the wall. She pressed the lever several times, tearing off a long sheet of the barely-absorbent paper toweling, then wadded it up and placed it on the water that had fallen from her coat. Jude’s lips curled in a tight grimace, but she didn’t say anything.
Daisy threw away the paper and left the kitchen without another glance at Jude. She walked into the small conference room between her office and Jude’s office and took several manila folders out of her tote bag, spreading them on the table in a circular pattern. Jude walked by, steam curling from the mug of coffee she carried. “What are you doing?” she asked. Nothing escaped Jude’s curiosity about Daisy and her assignments.
“Just organizing my work. My desk isn’t big enough,” Daisy answered with a sly peek at Jude. She started moving folders around, standing back with her arms crossed. She knew it irritated Jude that the Editor-in-Chief, Mark John Friole, had given her so many assignments, and laying everything out for Jude to see gave her a jolt of devilish glee. Jude, though higher in the pecking order at Global Human Rights Journal, wasn’t as good a researcher as Daisy and she didn’t hide her jealousy well. But it was only natural that Daisy, as a Master’s-level anthropologist, should be the better researcher--if she weren’t, it would just be embarrassing.
Daisy pulled out her laptop and sat down to wait for it to boot up.
“I have a meeting in this room today, so you won’t be able to keep your stuff in here,” Jude said.
“I’m not planning to. As soon as I get these folders organized, I’ll work in my office.” Daisy was pretty sure Jude didn’t have a meeting later.
Jude was just turning away to go back to her office when Mark John came into the conference room.
“Update me, please. What are you working on?”
Jude stood up a little straighter and gave him a big smile. “I’ve made significant progress on the clean water story,” she said brightly, batting her eyelashes.
“Good,” Mark John said, nodding. “Daisy?”
“I’ll be ready to submit my current story today, then I’ll dig more into the story about childbirth centers.”
“I have an idea I’d like to run by you, Daisy, if you would please hand off the childbirth center story to Jude.”
“Sure,” Daisy answered, suppressing a slight grin at Jude’s scowl. “Do you want to talk about it now?”
“Yes. In my office, please.” Mark John left.
“Don’t be long in Mark John’s office,” Jude said. “I need to talk to him about something.”
Daisy gathered up her notebook and sharpened pencils and left the room without another glance at Jude.
Mark John wasn’t in his office when Daisy knocked on his door, which was partially ajar. “Mark John?” she asked, poking her head into the room. There was no answer. She went inside and sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. She idly flipped through her notebook, then cracked her neck and checked her watch. When five minutes had passed and Mark John still hadn’t appeared, Daisy stood up and wandered around his office, picking up and setting down various mementos from his travels. She went to the window behind his desk and looked down onto the ground far below, at the people scurrying about with their umbrellas up, hiding their faces. She felt another surge of annoyance that she had forgotten her own umbrella that morning. As she turned away from the window, a photo of Mark John and his wife, Fiona, caught her eye. She picked up the photo and gazed at it for several moments, focusing on Fiona’s wide smile. In her time at Global Human Rights, Daisy had only heard Mark John mention his wife’s name a few times. Daisy wondered what she was like. She set the photo back in its spot and sat down to wait.
Mark John came into the office a minute later.
“Damn secretary can’t do anything without asking me twenty questions about it,” he said, settling into his chair.
Daisy didn’t reply.
“This won’t take long,” he said. “I’ve been thinking--we should do a feature about women’s roles in this country. You know, how they’ve changed since the time when the United States was an agrarian society.”
“Sounds interesting, but that’s going to take up more space than just one article.”
“I know. I’m thinking we’ll do it in three parts.”
“All right.”
Mark John sighed. “You’re probably going to have to tell Jude about this, but take your time telling her. The last thing I need right now is listening to her complain about why I gave you the assignment instead of her.”
Daisy grinned. “I’ll keep it quiet as long as I can.” She looked at her watch and chuckled. “I give it about two minutes. Maybe three.”
Mark John ran his hand over his forehead and squeezed his eyes closed for a long moment. “Well, I don’t feel like dealing with it today. I have a headache.”
“If you prefer, we can talk about particulars of the assignment later,” Daisy said. “In the meantime I’ll get started on some preliminary research.”
“Sounds good.” Mark John looked around his office, puffed out his cheeks, and let out a sigh.
“You okay?” Daisy asked.
“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his face with both hands. “There was a burglary in my neighborhood last night. A house just across the street and a couple doors down from us. A bit unnerving, you know?”
“I’m sure it is,” Daisy replied. “That’s scary. Was anyone hurt?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Do you have an alarm system?”
“Yes, but so did the people whose house got hit. They had left a window open downstairs.”
“Kind of defeats the purpose of having an alarm,” Daisy said.
“Yeah,” Mark John said curtly. He shook his head in disgust. Daisy knew the conversation was over and she left the office. She walked by Jude’s office on the way to her own.
Jude smirked and pushed her chair back. “I’ll go see him now. You were longer than I expected.”
“He wasn’t in his office so I had to wait for him,” Daisy said. “He has a bad headache,” she warned.
“I just want to ask him a couple quick questions. I won’t bother him,” Jude said.
Daisy returned to the conference room and sat down.