âYouâre very good when youâre very bitchy.â
âSuccinctly put, Raven,â Josh said. âThis is Becks Mansfield. Becks, Raven Nightly.â
I considered becoming very bitchy on the spot but decided it wasnât worth the effort. Raven was older than Iâd thought from a distance, and there was something about the enthusiastic grin beaming from her weather-worn face that made it impossible to be offended by her calling me a bitch.
Either that or I was getting used to it.
Â
JOSH AND I HEADED for the sound booth. I was there to work on a couple of promotional spots Josh was planningto place with some of the bigger Web sites and possibly run as commercials on a few cable TV stations.
Heâd pulled most of the vocals from previous features, but I still needed to record things like âCheck it outâ and âAOL users click on keyword Vladima.â It only took an hour or so.
âThat was great.â Joshâs voice sounded in my headphones. âI think weâre done.â
âHey, Josh, have you got a minute?â I spoke into the mike and looked over at him through the glass that separated the control room from the recording booth.
âSure. Come on over.â He took off his headset and motioned me into his studio.
I wasnât sure I should be doing this, but I figured it was now or never. I hadnât realized Iâd be so nervous about it.
Josh looked apprehensive as I came in. âYouâre not going to quit, are you?â
My eyebrows went up. âQuit? What makes you think Iâd quit?â
He gave me a look.
âOkay, so maybe Iâm not Vladimaâs biggest fan, but I wouldnât walk out on you, Josh.â
âYou wouldnât?â
I was probably as surprised as he was, but I realized it was true. At least until my real career came back from the undead. âWhere else would I get paid to hang out and say ridiculous things in a tiny dark room all day?â
âWell, when you put it like that.â He sank back into his chair and made a gesture for me to pull up the other one.
It was pretty close quarters in there. Most of the room was taken up by the big mixing board that Josh mannedwhen we were recording. Aside from that there was just enough space for the two chairs and some miscellaneous piles of junkâcords and extra microphones and assorted other hardware that Iâd be hard-pressed to identify.
Suddenly, this close to Josh, I felt completely awkward about what I was going to say. âJosh,â I began, âI really donât know how to put thisâ¦â
He looked away and began fiddling with some switches on the board. âPut what?â
âItâs about the promotional spots.â
He stopped fiddling. âThe what?â
I decided if he could avoid my eyes, I could avoid his. I picked up a piece of speaker wire and tried to make it into a neat coil. âIâve been thinking about them.â
âYou have?â
At least Iâd managed to surprise him again. âThe thing is, Joshâ¦â
âYeah?â
I could feel him watching me. There was nothing else to do but plunge ahead. I looked him in the eye. âThey suck, Josh.â
It had become clear to me as Iâd been looking over the copy heâd sent the night before that, despite being a creative genius and everything, Josh was lousy at promotion.
The question was, should I say anything about it? Iâd never gotten involved with the business end of Joshâs enterprise. Iâd just said my lines and scampered out of there as fast as I could. But he was a friendâsort ofâand clearly he was awful at advertising. I could help. The question was, would he want me to?
He was completely still for a minute, then a huge grinspread across his face. âRebecca Mansfield, are you offering to help me with my marketing?â
God help me, I blushed.
âDo you want
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