Mr. Eliot and Mr. Sharpe entered side by side, their faces grim, and returned to their seats.
Behind them, Mr. Alpha also walked in with a dark expression, leaving Frank standing there as he strode straight into his office.
He reached the door, paused for a moment, then finally turned his head and called out to his two newly reprimanded subordinates.
"Eliot! Sharpe!"
The two editors reluctantly got up and followed Mr. Alpha into the room. The three of them slammed the door shut with a bang.
Seeing this, Wood and Frank quickly grabbed a file and pretended to have business near the door, eavesdropping on the conversation inside.
Clare, unwilling to just sit by, copied them and, with a freshly edited manuscript, moved closer to the partition to listen.
Actually, they didn't need to get that close. Jenny, sitting in the farthest corner of the office, could also hear their conversation.
Though the voices weren't loud, the office was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. She heard clearly as Mr. Alpha paced and said:
"...He's the boss. He pays your salary, not anyone else. No matter what, you have to satisfy him! Sales figures won't show up right now anyway...
No matter what kind of person he is, you must figure out his preferences! Or do the two of you not want your bonuses anymore?"
Claude Dawling had just humiliated each of them in the office.
He thought this week's Century Weekly serial page was only readable by men over forty—boring, with a cloying, artificial feel. If it affected sales, he would cancel all three of their bonuses.
If everyone had been scolded, they wouldn't have been so angry.
But Claude had singled out the interview column under Mr. York next door for praise.
In particular, he praised the interview with a popular Broadway actress, saying the column was excellent and that he would give York and his team bonuses.
Eliot was fed up with this eccentric boss. As soon as Mr. Alpha brought it up, he couldn't help retorting:
"That woman is probably his mistress."
Mr. Alpha glanced at Eliot.
"He knows how to promote his mistress, so why don't you know how to edit a story to promote her?"
He then turned to Sharpe and scolded him even more impatiently.
Mr. Alpha believed that among the three, Sharpe was the oldest. Since the boss found it boring, the problem must lie with him.
Sharpe felt deeply wronged. He lowered his head. He had already been scolded once in the office. Now Mr. Alpha was venting his anger by repeating the same words again.
However, they were both very tolerant of the unruly Eliot, which made Sharpe feel very unbalanced.
Usually, Eliot got all the reputation and bonuses, but when it came to taking the blame, they only thought of him, the old man.
After a while, the two came out of the office and sat down in silence, each taking out their anger on the typists nearby.
Jenny observed that everyone in the office was on edge, afraid of getting caught in the crossfire.
As she sorted through today's submissions, she thought silently: when would be the best time to bring out Sean's article?
Jenny didn't really care that her superiors were being scolded, but their bad mood meant they would be less tolerant of any minor mistakes from her.
Even if she presented any article, it would likely be rejected outright.
Jenny turned her head.
Clare was serving tea and reporting to Mr. Eliot, his manner extremely deferential.
Although he hadn't shifted blame onto her in the past few days, he was always on guard against her.
He kept a tight watch on Mr. Eliot, making sure every document passed through his hands first, leaving his own mark on the work.
Sometimes, even articles with no issues would undergo major revisions by Clare before being shown to Mr. Eliot, for fear that the three assistants might stand out.
If she recommended something to Clare, he would be suspicious.
If she bypassed him again, it would mean an open break with Clare, which would hinder her real plans.
Therefore, Jenny decided it was best not to act directly.
After much thought, she chose to take a roundabout approach that would achieve her goal regardless of how things developed.
First, she selected two other submissions from today's pile, carefully distilled their main ideas, and transcribed them neatly.
Then, she patted Polly on the arm and said smugly:
"Polly, look at these two submissions I received today.
This one features a Parisian gigolo who spends his days seducing rich women to climb the social ladder.
And this one is about a girl who is a steerage passenger but unexpectedly gets a chance to dine with first-class guests, where she meets a young aristocrat...
Since the boss thinks our previous stories were boring, the protagonists of these two stories should definitely satisfy him, don't you think?"
Polly thought about it and felt it made sense. The young boss had no interest in the nostalgia and exquisite narrative that the older editors liked.
But she was also a bit envious of Jenny. Why was it that Jenny always received such interesting articles when handling submissions?
Now the editor would surely value Jenny more, and she was even acting smug.
Polly snorted reluctantly and turned away to work sullenly.
Jenny saw that Polly probably had the desire but not the courage, and seemed to need a little instigation.