The problem is I can't contradict him. If the numbers don't improve, we're not going to get another season.
"I booked our lead actors on a number of talk shows. That'll bring in new viewers."
Executive producers and their assistants don't typically get involved in marketing and PR, but this case requires all our efforts.
No two shows are the same, but there are several patterns. Some shows start on a high and then maintain it for one or two seasons before sliding down the rankings as their prime time passes.
Others begin on unsteady feet, trudge along for the first season, then pull in better numbers in the second, when their viewership solidifies. We're in the second category, but here's the crux: the show needs to be renewed for a second season first.
"What we need is a boost from Our Pics."
Red alert! His watery and wandering eyes narrow. I swear to God, if he's going to bring up the Bennetts and We See You again...
Clasping my hands behind my back, I steel myself.
"Noticed you've changed your Facebook settings to private. Anything to hide?"
I set my jaw. "No, but I don't like strangers snooping around. It creeps me out."
He narrows his eyes, clearly not believing me. I unhitch myself from the balcony railing, heading toward the entrance door.
"I'm trying to book our stars on the big dogs. Late-night shows and such."
"Right. Like they're gonna give us the time of day if not even Our Pics does. Set your sights on something achievable."
With persistence and hard work, we can get the top dogs on our side. But Quentin is not about persistence or hard work. He's all about shortcuts.
"Nate always said-"
Quentin snickers, stepping closer. "I am not Nate. You got used to him blowing smoke up your ass, that's your problem. I'm gonna need you to perform."
I pull myself up straighter, crossing my arms over my chest. I will not let this prick put me down. But he's also my boss. Handle this with grace, Clara. I wonder if my slapping his cheek would be considered graceful. It would be an improvement over kicking him in the groin, which I'm seriously considering.
"I'm doing a very good job, whether you admit it or not. Getting a show up and running is teamwork. I'm trying my hardest."
"Try harder." As he passes me on the way to the door, the smell of cigarettes mixed with garlic on his breath almost gags me.
***
"Don't you dare crap out. Come on!" I exclaim the next morning
My coffee machine makes a loud, shrill noise, and then muddy water spills out of every crevice, landing on the kitchen counter, dripping to the tiled floor. With a sigh, I unplug the machine, then clean up the mess. I'll just have to stop by a coffee shop on the way to work. Typically, I like to drink my coffee every morning outside on the balcony, enjoying the view. Drinking it this early also means the caffeine has time to kick in by the time I reach the studio. After my infuriating exchange with Quentin yesterday, I need my eyes open and my brain functioning at maximum capacity.
"What's wrong?"
Blake's voice startles me. He stands in front of the French doors, which were open. I assume his balcony doors are open too, or he wouldn't have heard me.
"My coffee machine crapped out," I explain through a yawn. "Almost done cleaning. Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up."
He shakes his head. "Was already awake. Be back in a minute."
Just as I finish cleaning, Blake appears on the balcony, holding a cup of coffee, motioning with his head for me to join him. Butterflies roam in my stomach as I step outside.
"Thanks," I say, taking the cup from him. Our fingers touch briefly, and I swear every cell leaps up with attention at the contact.
"Welcome. Thought it would be a bad start if you skipped your morning coffee on the balcony."
I sip from my cup, trying to hide my surprise and delight that he noticed this tidbit.
"Why are you up early again?" I ask, taking in his appearance. He's not wearing a suit today.
"Haven't gone to bed at all, actually."
"Oh?"
"Two pipes broke at the Blue Moon, whole kitchen was under water. Been there all night overseeing repairs."
"I'm so sorry."
Blake waves his hand good-naturedly. "No major harm done. We'll forego lunch, but we'll be ready to open for dinner today."
"You should go to bed."
"I'll crash after you leave. Right now, I'm exactly where I want to be. With you."
Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I grip my cup tighter, chuckling. "Not even a sleepless night dampens your drive, eh?"