Gathering String Read Online Free PDF Page A

no big deal. And he didn't need to keep you here so late, even if he did forget to charge his damn cell again. You go on. I'll say a quick hello to him and then lock up.”
    Reluctantly Amber put on her coat and gathered her things. On her way out, Tess heard her call, “Goodnight Mr. Waterman,” and a grunted “Thanks” in reply.
    Behind the tall desk, Waterman heard the girl walk out and took the silence to mean he was alone except for the production people in back. The Journal hadn’t been out long, and he knew Tess would surface eventually to check her pictures in print. He’d never convinced her not to look at her work once it ran, when nothing could be done about a bad crop or a screwed cutline. He settled back in the chair, cradling the phone against his shoulder. He was tempted to hang up on Sarah, who had put him on hold, but went on reading the copy of the Journal he’d found on the desk, reaching the end of Jack Westphal’s column:
    Erickson didn’t turn his father’s grocery store into a chain of supermarkets by believing those who say, “you can’t,” and he didn’t defeat an incumbent governor in his first political campaign by believing those who said, “you can’t.” He isn’t going to be daunted by candidates in his own party who have been campaigning for months or years.
    What most of us see as obstacles, Erickson sees as opportunities, and you can rest assured that his record as governor, his inspiring oratory, his tireless campaigning and his rock-solid belief in himself will soon make his presence felt in this presidential race.
    I’ve made my hotel reservation in Washington for next Jan. 20. See you at the inaugural ball.
 
    “Maybe,” Sam thought as he tossed the paper aside, “but I’ll be working, not shilling.” The music playing in his ear stopped abruptly and Steve Johnson came on the line. “Waterman, what the hell is the problem? Sarah is nearly frothing at the mouth after dealing with you. I shouldn’t have to get on the phone to settle a spat between an editor and a reporter. Christ, you’re worse than my kids.”
    “First she bitched at me for the problems with the live-blog,” Sam snapped back, “Like it’s my fault there’s lousy cell coverage out here where there’re more cows than people. Then she cut my story with all the finesse of a chainsaw.”
    “Now just settle down,” the editor’s voice sharpened. “I know it’s hard for you to see one word of your golden prose changed, but we’re not posting War and Peace on the site. I’m looking through her cuts right now.” Sam struggled to hold his tongue as Steve scrolled through the original copy. “What’s this crap about the local newspaper publisher? She’s right ...”
    “Come on, Steve, you’re always reminding me we’re not in print any more. This is a web site. We got all the space we want. This is the biggest political story today and that publisher on the platform is significant. The Iowa caucuses are a big fucking deal, and it’s a great illustration of the pass Erickson’s going to get.”
    “For crying out loud, Sam, do you really think our readers can’t put together that the Iowa governor is going to be a favorite son in his home state? Where’s your news judgment? This local hack, Westphal?, piss you off or something?” Waterman’s knuckles went white around the phone as Johnson’s laugh filtered down the line. “Look, I’ll leave the reference to him up on the dais, but that’s it. You want to go after him, do it in your blog.”
    “I already updated the blog and left it out because it was in the story.”
    “Then tweet about it if it’s a burr up your butt.”
    “I hate fucking Twitter,” Sam snapped.
    “Yeah, we all do, but it drives traffic. Look, Sam, I’m not patting your hand while you hold a wake for every lost word. Sometimes we’ve got to kill your darlings. Now get your ass on the plane tomorrow and we’ll talk when you get in.” Simultaneously,