something up with you.” It was a typical Chuck move, to present a little excuse for his "swing by" when things weren’t going so well. “You know, for his big donation?”
Oh, right, that thing Mira was trying so hard to push out of her mind.
“He wants to us to rig up a PR event,” said Chuck, finally ending his shoe investigation. “A little media event for Swanson's Hope.”
Before Mira could say anything, she yawned like a nervous dog. It was better that way. Better to suck in some much needed air than to say something stupid.
“You know how the senator is,” said Chuck, rolling his eyes.
“Yes... Yes, I certainly do.”
“Will that be okay?”
No. Fuck no.
“Yes, yes, of course. It's a big donation.” Or so she's heard. She hadn’t even asked how much blood money the old man would be to coughing up for her mother's cause.
“Great,” said Chuck. “And even if you're not feeling better by then, you won't have to do much. It's really just a little show for the news cameras. You know?”
Mira nodded.
“Mainly for him. But it'll be good publicity for Swanson's Hope. Might even get a little slice of prime-time. And he'll also have his own film crew there.”
“Film crew?”
“They're making a documentary about his work, his foreign aid and philanthropy and all that. It's on his own dime, of course.”
Mira thought of a specific book she'd left at her apartment, how it laid opened and turned over on her kitchen table. She thought of the fresh crease she'd put into its spine...
“So we're thinking about staging it in the press room downstairs. And, again, it won't be a big deal. He'll just make a quick speech. You can talk too, if you want. And then he might hand you one of those giant checks. You know, like those cardboard checks?” He smiled. “Pretty cheesy, huh?”
She thought of the real beast of the safari, the coldest-blooded killer. The White Devil. How many more "triumphant gambles" would he get away with?
“Mira? What's up?” Chuck was sometimes terrifyingly empathic. “Are you worried about it or something?”
“No, no, I'm just trying to think of my schedule...”
“You don't have to pick a date right this second. I just wanted to give you heads up.”
Mira stared at her empty desk as if she'd been translating some invisible document, a strategy guide for escaping the shittiest of situations. She had to make a play. “Okay. Well, thanks, Chuck. I'll definitely work on a time slot.” Mira finally looked up at him. “And, could you please thank the senator again? He's been very good to Swanson's Hope. And this latest donation...” She smiled and shook her head in mock disbelief.
“Yeah, I know. It's incredible.”
“That's just it. It's just incredible... And I'm so excited to tell the rest of the team about it.” Sensing that it was time to throw the puppy a chew-toy, Mira worked to achieve an adequate smile, and then asked, “Will you be there?”
He immediately pounced on the toy, pawing and sniffing at it like some neglected shelter-dog. “ Yeah . Yeah, if you want.” He sunk his teeth into it, ravaging her little gift while his tail wagged in pure glee. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Sure.”
“I'd like that,” she said softly.
“You want me to do anything? Can I, uh... Can I do anything?”
“No, I just want you to be there. If it's convenient.” The way Chuck smiled told her how convenient it was to spend any and all time with her. “Maybe you could write my speech? I dunno...”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever you need.” Her sentry suddenly sprang to life, triumphantly pushing off from her cubicle wall on which he'd been leaning the whole time.
But his moment of glory was short-lived. A booming voice shot across the office floor. “Hey, Chuckie.”
Mira watched Chuck's hard jolt of a reaction, his head bobbing out from her cubicle like a freshly-sprung Jack-in-the-box.
“The hell you doin'?”
“You told me to schedule out the PR thing,” said