“There’s no one else at your place who handles the press?” I hoped there was someone who could bail her out.
“Nope, the person who usually would is out on maternity leave. Bad timing, with the exhibit happening just now.” She said abruptly, “You know it takes years to put together an exhibit, right?”
“Yes,” I said. I’d been involved in raising money for more than one at the Society, although luckily we had nothing in the works at the moment.
“And now it’s just a couple of weeks before we’re supposed to open. It’s all set up, and the publicity for it went out long ago. And now this thing with Jason happened. So far nobody’s paid it any attention, and he’s not going to stir anything up, that’s for sure. I mean, like suing or anything. But say somebody at the hospital talks-what do I do then?”
I felt for her. I’d learned the hard way how fragile an institution’s reputation was, and one wrong step could do a lot of harm to it. Of course, identifying the cause would go a long way toward easing visitors’ minds. “The most important thing you can do is reassure the public that Let’s Play is safe for their children. That what happened to Jason was a simple accident, and that you’ve had everything checked out by experts who have assured you that the wiring is safe. That is, only if this leaks out.”
“But it
I was a bit surprised at her almost flippant attitude. “Caitlin, you may know that, but what you have to do is make sure the public does, too-and believes it. Forgive me for saying so, but I think your mother’s a much better spokesperson than you are, if it comes to that.”
“I know,” Caitlin said. “I’m not good with people, and I hate sucking up. I’m a lot happier dealing with paperwork and planning. I think the exhibit is great. Don’t you?”
“It looked charming, though I didn’t really get to see it working before the accident. I imagine that children will love it. But to get back to the point, do you have any connections in city government? A friend at the
Caitlin shrugged-again. I couldn’t believe how uninterested she appeared in this conversation. “I don’t know. I’ll have to check the files, when I get time.”
“Make the time,” I said firmly. “It’s important to keep the press on your side, just in case things like this happen. That means you have to cultivate relationships with them-all the time, not just when you need them. You have to manage all your relationships in this town. People can really pull together and help you, but only if you’ve laid the groundwork first. And right now, if I were you, I’d brainstorm with the rest of your staff and try to figure out what your strongest contact is and use that.” I stared at her. She stared back, her expression blank. Was I getting through to her? I doubted it. I thought for another moment. “Be prepared for quick turnaround-keep ahead of the story. Could Hadley Eastman and her publicity people pull any strings?”
Caitlin grimaced. “I think they’d be happy to wash their hands of this whole mess, including Hadley. All she does is whine.”
I wasn’t getting a much better impression of Caitlin, frankly. I stood up. “I hope I’ve helped you, Caitlin. Now I’m afraid that I’ve got a lot to get finished today. I’ll see you out.”
Caitlin followed my lead and stood. “Thank you for talking with me, Nell. I appreciate your time.” She said it as if by rote. Could anyone be that clueless, even in her twenties? Daughter or not, Arabella would do well to find someone more sympathetic to handle the local media, because Caitlin did not seem to have the necessary skills-or tact. Well, she was Arabella’s problem, not mine, and I’d done what I could. I took her back to the lobby and trudged back up the stairs to my desk.
CHAPTER 7
At four o’clock Shelby proudly escorted her candidate for my much-needed assistant into my office. He was a slender young man with a sweep of silky blond hair that kept falling across his forehead. “Eric, this is Ms. Pratt. Nell, meet Eric Marston. Don’t bite his head off.” Eric gave her a look, and she held up her hands in surrender. “All right, I’m going.” She backed out quickly.
Eric walked across the room and extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Miz Pratt.”
“Let me guess-you’re also from the South, like Shelby?” The accent combined with his manners gave him away.
“That I am, ma’am. May I sit down?”
“Oh, please do.” Once again, I was in the dark: the resume Melanie had passed on to me was short and bland, so I had little to go on. “Tell me something about yourself.”
“I’m twenty-three, ma’am. College graduate, William and Mary. Been in Philadelphia ’bout a year now. I don’t have a whole lot of work experience, but I helped put myself through school by working in some of the offices on campus, and I’ve been doin’ a lot of temp work since I got here. I keyboard one hundred words per minute, and I file like nobody’s business. Can you tell me what you’re looking for?”
“Well, Eric, I need someone to organize my life here. I haven’t been in this position long, but I’ve worked here for a while. What I need is someone to answer phones, type up letters and reports for me, manage my schedule, take notes at board meetings, and make my life easier. I don’t expect you to pick up my dry cleaning, or bring me coffee, unless you’re getting some from yourself. Have I scared you off yet?”
“No, ma’am. I appreciate your honesty.”
“Well, that’s good, because I don’t have time to play games. Why do you want this job?”
He smiled shyly. “Well, for a start, I need a job, like a lot of other people these days. This city’s not a cheap place to live, you know. I like working with people, and I like organizing things-you should see my closet. I’m punctual, thrifty, neat, and friendly. That’s what you need, right?”
“How about tough, like with people who insist they need to talk with me immediately and won’t take no for an answer?”
He gave me a bigger smile this time. “Well, I’ll just have to turn the charm on until they go away, won’t I?”
I laughed. “How do you feel about history?”
I was pleased to see that his eyes lit up. “I truly love it, ma’am. I was an economics major in college, but I focused on the late-nineteenth-century reconstruction of the South, so I know about research and original sources and all. And Philadelphia’s where so much of it began, right? Even though Massachusetts claims a lot of the credit.”
Could lightning strike twice? Shelby had walked in out of nowhere, and I’d hired her on the spot. Eric seemed too perfect to be true; my luck was never this good. “Eric, how about this? I need someone desperately, like yesterday. Why don’t I give you a trial period, say two weeks? We’d pay for your time, at whatever the going temp rate is, and if everything works out by the end of that time, you’ve got the job. If not, we’ll part ways with no hard feelings. Does that seem fair?”
“More than fair, ma’am. When should I start?”
“Can you come in tomorrow morning? And please drop the
“Eight thirty okay, Nell?”
“Eight thirty’s fine, Eric. I’ll meet you in front and we can sort out keys and stuff. You want to stop by Shelby’s office and give her the good news?”
“I’d sure appreciate that.”
I came around the desk and led him back down the hall. “Shelby, I said I’d give Eric here a trial run.”
“That’s terrific, Nell. And Eric, you be good or I’ll whup your ass. Got it?”
He bobbed his head. “Sure do, Shelby. I’ll do you proud, don’t worry.”
“Well, I’ll let you two chat-I’ve got work to do.” I ducked out and headed back to my office. I amused myself by wondering how our patrons and board members would react to a Southern accent-and a male one at that-when they phoned me, but I thought Eric had the right idea: charm conquers all, or at least a whole lot. And I had me an assistant, at least for a while.
And cookies. Things were definitely looking up.
