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I shiver despite the warm weather and struggle to keep the nonchalance in my tone. “This is she.”
There’s a half second of silence on the other end of the line and I hope to god it’s because he’s annoyed that I don’t recognize his voice.
“It’s Nick,” he says and I want to punch the air because yes, he definitely sounds irritated.
“Nick?” I say. “Nick who?”
I regret it as soon as I say it. Any upper hand I had in the conversation goes right out the window because it’s completely obvious that I’m full of shit.
“I think you know who,” Nick says.
“Nick Madison?” I fully commit to the bit, making my voice overly surprised. “Oh you should have said so. What could you possibly want?”
Nick refuses to play my game and answers honestly. “Kara Kon.”
I pause. “The DJ?” I ask.
“I want her to play the Seafarer’s maiden voyage,” he says.
Oh really. I coolly examine a fingernail, wait a beat, and say, “How lovely. Though I’m not sure why you’re calling me in the middle of the workday to tell me about it.”
I can practically hear him grinding his jaw. He really needs to stop doing that before he messes up his teeth.
“I’m calling you because you said you could get her. Is that true?”
I hesitate. I hadn’t said I could definitely get Kara Kon. My “contacts in the industry” consist solely of a former college roommate who’s now a radio DJ in Boston. But would it really be that difficult? I’d just have to book a meeting with her agent and offer the right price.
“You’d have to pay her a lot,” I say. “She’s hot right now. She has her pick of projects.”
“That won’t be a problem.”
Yeah, I wouldn’t think so. I get the impression that money is (and never has been) a “problem” for Nick.
“But,” I say, “you don’t need me to book her for you. Send any one of those supermodels you have working for you to do it.” I bite my tongue hard. Why did I have to call them supermodels? I mean, they are, but pointing it out definitely sounds spiteful.
“I know that,” Nick says, thankfully not commenting on my slip.
“So then why me?” I ask. “Someone convince you that my youthful inexperience isn’t going to sink your ship?”
Mickey cocks her head and mouths what are you doing? at me, but I ignore her.
Yes, I have been praying for this job to work out for weeks.
Yes, I am poking at him just as he’s trying to give it to me.
No, I absolutely don’t care if he retracts the offer.
Everything Mickey said before he called had been correct, and I’m not just going to abandon my dignity because he’s dangling the golden carrot. I deserve to be treated with some damn respect. And if we’re going to work together I need to set some ground rules.
I don’t expect an apology and I don’t get one. Instead Nick just says, evenly, “I’ve changed my mind. I want you to lead the campaign.”
I try to keep my tone as level as his. I don’t entirely succeed. “After everything you said yesterday, I’m not sure I want to.”
“If you’re expecting me to grovel, you’re speaking to the wrong man,” Nick says shortly.
“I think I know exactly what kind of man I’m speaking to,” I say. “And I don’t expect you to grovel. What I want are some assurances.”
“Such as?”
