“You’re Mary Ann, right?” Gemma said as she ordered a cup of chicory from the “coffee” machine. The newest addition to the “O” Courant bullpen, Mary Ann Evans, was already in the breakroom, sitting at the table and planning out her schedule that day on a small notepad. “You came from So Mod, didn’t you?”
“Yes! And you’re Gemma Olsen. Looove your work, darling. It’s like what I do, but for the stuffier people in town.”
Gemma wasn’t sure if that was an insult or a compliment. She rather thought exposing corruption and authoritative lying was not especially similar to reporting on what minor changes Davy Hackney decided everyone should apply to their wardrobe or who Nick Lightbearer was marrying or divorcing this week, but she bit her tongue before she said something overtly snotty in reply.
“I hope you won’t take this wrong way,” Gemma said, electing for a more subtle jab instead as she waited for her chicory to finish pouring, “but isn’t the Ladies’ Page a step down from So Mod?”
Discussion