50 Acts of Kindness
Ellyn Oaksmith
Romantic Comedy/90k
Being overly kind isn't in
Kylie Harrow's nature. This has never been more evident than when Kylie vents
her frustrations to an innocent employee—and the whole scene is posted online,
tanking her career and earning her the dubious distinction of "World's
Worst Boss." But when she flees home to the South, Kylie finds her
childhood home has changed. The high school quarterback is now the hot and
handsome sheriff. Her mother has turned her home into a nudist colony. And worst
of all, having heard about her daughter's exploits, her mother won't let her in
the door until Kylie completes fifty kind acts in fifty days.
The task seems easy enough at first—and may even help repair her media image—but it quickly turns into a hilarious quest that leads Kylie down a bumpy road filled with new challenges. What started as a gimmick to save her career evolves into a mission to save a spunky old woman and her little dog from homelessness. As Kylie learns about the nature of kindness, she finds the path to happiness and, for the first time ever, maybe even love.
The task seems easy enough at first—and may even help repair her media image—but it quickly turns into a hilarious quest that leads Kylie down a bumpy road filled with new challenges. What started as a gimmick to save her career evolves into a mission to save a spunky old woman and her little dog from homelessness. As Kylie learns about the nature of kindness, she finds the path to happiness and, for the first time ever, maybe even love.
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Excerpt:
"We are a technology
marketing company. People don't want to see our underwear or ultrasounds or try
to run a meeting while you jump up to pee."
"I'm due in two
weeks."
Her whine was still grating
on my nerves, but my recorded words sliced like knives. Was I the equivalent of
that rooster my mom had that pecked at the hens? One morning mom found him
dead, pecked to death. I thought, "Please do not let this be my barnyard
reckoning," even though things were clearly sliding in that direction.
On screen I plowed forward.
"I cannot do your job and mine. It's killing me. I need you on the
ground running. Oh no wait, you can't run. Which is why you missed the flight
to Miami where
you got 'dehydrated.'" I did air quotes around "dehydrated."
Holy
cow. I was so angry it blinded me to very fact she was recording.
"I was dehydrated."
We were both so very tired.
"Which is why you ended up lounging in Miami while I ran yet another meeting solo. I
stayed up until three a.m. doing the PowerPoint you'd forgotten."
"I ended up in the
hospital."
"And missed the flight
back to New York
and yet another day of work. If you are dehydrated, drink water. It's not
rocket science!"
I remembered this day
clearly. Sleep-deprived from a red eye, I'd left Betsy in New York, begging her to prep for a meeting
the following day. When I got back, the slides weren't ready. She'd gone home.
I'd miss another night's sleep to finish them.
It was the perfect storm, and
she'd caught it.
I leaned forward to downsize
the screen. "2.7 million views?" She'd titled it "World's Worst Boss?!" There were lots of comments, many
expletives, and a passionate, nine exclamation points in a row.
Bob dug a crust from his eye.
"It's not something to be proud of."
My mind raced. How to spin
this before he threw something out? I managed a casual shrug. "I'm in
marketing. I can't help it."
"This makes us look so bad."
It was crunch time. There was
no room for complaints or excuses. "Does it though? Does it? What I see is
that we expect a certain professionalism and energy from our employees, a
requirement that, pregnant or not, they perform to the best of their abilities."
My delivery was very rough, but it was a message she needed to hear." He
wasn't buying. I grabbed for a straw. "Isn't posting this on YouTube a
violation of my privacy?"
"I don't know," Bob
said wearily. "That's 2.7 million negative hits with MLJK's name
attached."
My heart clenched. I needed a
cigarette. Now. "Whatever happened to 'any publicity is good
publicity'?"
He ignored my lame joke.
"She's threatening to file suit. I checked with legal. We can tie her up
in court, but the claim is legit."
I inhaled sharply,
forgetting, in my growing panic, to exhale.
"Breathe, Kylie."
"S-s-suing us?"
Great, now I was stuttering.
"You called her fat. She
says you created an unhealthy work environment."
My jaw dropped. This was not
the time to point out that, as a former chubette, I never, ever use the F-word.
"The operative word here is work.
I was running on vapors."
Bob got up and looked out the
window at his fabulous view. "Stella, by the way, corroborates everything
you've said." My eyebrows shot up in alarm. "Yes, I've talked to her.
I've talked to a few people, but the point is that sooner or later we all have
to deal with this. Pregnant women deserve…" He stared off into the silver
buildings and cloudless sky. When I'd entered, the view had felt empowering. Now
it was an invitation to jump. "Latitude. We are a family-friendly
company."
I snickered bitterly. MLJK
years were dog years. Most of the senior partners were divorced. "And what
about women who aren't ever going to have children? We just put up and shut
up?" I knew this sounded whiney, but I couldn't help myself. I felt like a
tightrope walker studying the tiny figures below, waiting for me to fall. Then
it struck me. I felt like this most of the time.
He gazed at me, his eyes
weary. "Come on. You're what, not even thirty? You don't know that."
Bob was still in his marriage of origin.
"Look at me Bob. My
relationships have the longevity of a fruit fly. I have nothing left at the end
of the day." I have nothing left
right now.
"Maybe it's time to
branch out."
Clearly he pitied Betsy. It
was time to grab the controls. "I can fix this. I can smooth things out.
Get my assistant her own assistant. At least until she's had it."
"Her baby is not an it," he snapped.
"Did I say 'it'?"
I'd been talking so quickly. It? Good
move Kylie.
"Yes," Bob said
quietly, losing his starch. Crossing his arms he glanced at a framed photo: a
gap-toothed, pig-tailed toddler on a swing, pushed by his beaming, very
pregnant wife. "You're going to have to leave until this dies down."
For a second I felt nothing
but a weight pressing on the top of my head, a dull ringing in my ears.
"This isn't Survivor. You can't let random strangers on YouTube vote me
off because I lost my temper."
"They're not. Lance
is."
The CEO? I was in a tippy canoe, and by golly, there went my
paddle.
I made a tiny bubble of an
objection as I sank. "She wasn't doing her job."
"Effective
immediately," he said. I knew what preceded those two words. Terminated.
This wasn't a break.
This was permanent.
About the Author:
Ellyn Oaksmith is an award-winning writer who
began her career as a screenwriter in Los Angeles. Her first book, Adventures
with Max and Louise, was published in 2012. Fifty Acts of Kindness is her third
book. She's currently at work on her first YA novel, Chasing Nirvana. The best
part of her work day is spent watching vintage YouTube footage of Nirvana
concerts and calling it research.Ellyn is part of the Girlfriends Book Club which has been featured in The New York Times and USA Today. She lives in Seattle with her family, a rescue dog and a rather rotund cat.
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Thanks for hosting Fifty Acts of Kindness today. What a lovely blog. I hope you're having a great weekend.
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