Farewell, Dorothy Parker
Violet brought the allusion full circle, ending the review by talking about the concept of metamorphosis as a Hollywood staple that just wouldn’t die, kind of like a giant cockroach.
    “Okay,” Violet said, opening her Internet browser. “Let’s see if she butchered me, too.”
    She clicked into the magazine’s internal server, which was set up to connect writers, editors, and production in one place. Everything in the magazine went through this portal.
    She navigated to her page and clicked on her latest submission, which showed her copy in black and the editor’s changes in red. Almost every word of the piece had been changed, including the first line, which now read: Abby Collins woke up as Steve Carell.
    “Oh, sweet God of mercy,” Violet said. “Little Miss Grammar Nazi never read Kafka.”
    “How do you know?”
    She started to explain about her opening reference but stopped at the sound outside her office. She and Travis both heard it at the same time, and their heads turned toward the door. It was Andi, talking to the assistant they shared.
    “I hope she’s up for a fight,” he said, rolling his sleeves.
    “You’re not going to hit her, are you?”
    “Only metaphorically. And as hard as I can.”
    He walked out the door just beyond Violet’s line of vision, but his voice reverberated. “I’d like to see you in my office, Andi.”
    “Five minutes,” she said.
    Travis got loud. Frighteningly loud, in Violet’s opinion. “Excuse me?”
    There was a pause and then Andi’s exasperated, impatient voice. “What do you want?”
    Violet was appalled by the girl’s attitude. She didn’t seem to think she needed to treat anyone besides Buck with respect. But Travis was a fifty-one-year-old movie critic revered around the world. Andi was a twenty-three-year-old who had graduated from college less than a year ago. Talk about hubris.
    “I just told you what I want,” he said. “I want to see you in my
office.

    “Can’t it wait?”
    “Absolutely not.”
    Violet leaned forward in her chair, listening hard.
Absolutely not,
she repeated in her head. One day she hoped to be bold enough to say that to someone with the kind of conviction Travis had.
    “I’m talking to Dolores right now,” Andi said. “What’s this about?”
    “What do you
think
it’s about?”
    “Your review?”
    “Listen, you little shit. I’m going to say this once, and if I ever have to say it again, it won’t be to your face, because you’ll be fired so fast you’ll be lucky to leave with your tattoos.
Do not mess with my copy.
If you find a typo, you may bring it to my attention. But beyond that, you’re not to touch a word. Not a noun, a pronoun, an article, a verb, an adjective, an adverb, a preposition, or a conjunction. Nothing. Do I make myself clear?”
    No response.
    Travis got louder. “I said, ‘Do I make myself clear?’ ”
    “I’m not an idiot.”
    “Answer the question.”
    “Yes, Mr. Ornstein,” Andi said, her tone oily with sarcasm. “Perfectly clear.”
    “And that goes for Violet’s copy, too.”
    Violet stood. She needed to be part of this. She took one sip of her coffee for fortification and walked to the door of her office. Everyone in the outer office looked up at her, waiting for a comment. She knew she had to say something, something big and forceful, something to let Andi know she was behind every word Travis was saying.
    They waited.
    She folded her arms in an attempt to look resolute. “Right,” she finally said.
    “Right?” Andi said.
    “Travis, I mean. Travis is right.”
    Okay, so it wasn’t big and forceful. But it was clear where she stood. That was something, wasn’t it?
    Andi shook her goth black hair out of her face and rolled her eyes, then turned back to Travis, dismissing Violet completely.
    “What
ever
,” she said.

Chapter 10
    Everyone from Violet’s martial arts class was there.
    “This is beautiful!” Mariana said, and gave Violet a hug.
    After learning

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