by Elicia Hyder
Across the hall, Peter’s door was still open. He caught my eye and mouthed something, but I was so distracted by the thought of him with blue hair, my brain processed it a second too slowly.
“Lily?”
Crap.
Peter had been trying to tell me to “run.”
Audrey was behind her massive mahogany desk, holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder. As I put the papers in the pocket on her door, she motioned me forward.
I quietly shuffled across the room, her personal shrine to the company’s role in shaping the landscape of country music. The two walls not made of solid glass were plastered with matching vinyl appliqués of the Record Road logo in an eighteen-inch font. Surrounding them were expensively framed album covers, record-sales awards, and autographed photos of country stars.
It was impressive. And gaudy. Nashville, to the core.
“I’ll have to call you back later,” she said into the phone and hung up without giving whoever was on the other end of the line a moment to protest. She looked up at me and took off her black-rimmed reading glasses. “Good afternoon, Lily.”
I gritted my teeth and handed her the papers. “Here are the click-through reports on Jake’s new ad campaign.”
“Thank you. Please have a seat.” She motioned to the chairs in front of her desk.
I looked at the clock on my phone. “I’m sorry, Audrey, but can it wait? I’m on my way to—”
Her glare cut me off, and I obediently sank into a chair.
“Thank you. I’ll be brief.”
I doubted it.
“I want this.” She turned her monitor on its swivel around to face me. Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson stared back at me from a video window.
My lips pressed together, and I scratched my head. I thought about asking her, “You want what The Rock is cooking?” but I thought better of it.
“It’s a live video stream from a movie premier’s red carpet. Jana Carter did a brilliant live Q and A with her fans last week, and it’s had over a half a million views. I want to use live video as part of Jake’s launch strategy next month.”
I blinked. “You want to do a live video instead of a pre-recorded one?” Visions of wardrobe malfunctions danced through my head.
“Yes. I think he should broadcast live from his launch party the Saturday after the album comes out. You know, make all the fans feel like they can be part of it.”
I swallowed hard, forcing away images of my career going up in digital flames. There was a reason television networks added a delay on all live video. We wouldn’t have that.
She sat back in her seat. “Can you work out the details? Make sure he has access, figure out how to use it, come up with a plan to advertise, et cetera?”
I nodded and forced a smile through my terror. “I’ll do my best. When is the launch party?”
“Saturday, October eighth. You’ll need to be there.”
Had I not been sitting down, I would’ve fallen on the floor. “Me? You want me to come to Jake Barrett’s launch party?”
“Of course I do. You’re our online marketing manager. This will be your responsibility.”
I swallowed hard, and with shaky hands, I pulled up the calendar on my phone to add the date. “Sure. I’ll be there. Where is it?”
“At Jake’s house.”
I took a deep breath as I used my thumbs to enter the information into my phone.
“I’ll have Peter send you the address and the time.”
My pulse beat through my skull. “Sounds good,” I forced out. “I’ll get to work on it this afternoon.”
“Fantastic.” She shooed me away with her hand. “You can go now.”
“Thank you, Audrey.”
As I got up, she reached for her phone. “Close my door on your way out, please.”
When I was out in the hallway, I closed her door, then leaned against it for support in case my legs gave out. Breathe, Lucy. It’s just a party. At Jake Barrett’s house. Jake Barrett, number sixteen on People Magazine’s current list of Most Beautiful People. No biggie.
I fanned my face. Thankfully, Peter’s office door was now closed, so no one witnessed my fangirlish meltdown. I couldn’t wait to tell Olivia. I called her on my walk out of the building but got her voicemail, so I left a message. “Call me the second you get this. I have huge news to tell you. Bye.”
The phone rang through the car’s speaker system as I pulled out of the parking garage and onto Third Avenue. I clicked the answer button on the steering wheel without taking my eyes off the road. “You are not going to believe this!” I said by way of a greeting.
“Try me.” It was West Adler’s voice, not my roommate’s.
I slammed on my brakes. Thankfully, no one was behind me. “Oh…hi, West.”
He laughed. “Expecting someone else?”
“I thought you were Olivia. I just called her.”
“Oh, well, just because I’m not her doesn’t mean you can deprive me of my not believing,” he said. “What are you so excited about?”
My cheeks were hot with embarrassment. I laughed and turned the air-conditioning vent toward my face. “My boss just invited me to a big party at the home of one of our artists.”
“Really? Anyone I know?”
“Jake Barrett.”
“Sweet! Can you bring a guest?”
I swerved a little getting on the ramp to the interstate and caught the edge of the curb with my right front tire. “Uh…”
“No pressure,” he said with a laugh. “But if you need a plus-one, I’d be happy to help you out.”
“You have to get past lunch first,” I said, proud of my quick wit.
“Touché.” He was quiet for a beat. “I was actually calling about lunch.”
I smiled.
“I’m going to have to take a raincheck this week, if that’s OK.”
I frowned.
“I’ve had some stuff come up, and I won’t be able to make it happen.”
My wit failed me. “Yeah. OK.”
He was quiet for a beat. “I hope you’ll take me up on it again soon.”
“Maybe if you ask nicely.”
He laughed on the other end of the line. “Oh, I talked to my buddy at the shop earlier. He said your car’s a goner.”
I sighed. “Yep. Such is my luck.”
“Well, if you’re in the market for another car, try out CarMart in Cool Springs. Tell them you know me and they’ll hook you up with a good deal. We just finished their remodel job a few weeks ago.”
I took the Brentwood exit off the interstate. “Are you serious?”
“Girl, I know everyone in this town.”
“You don’t know Jake Barrett.”
“Not yet,” he said with a laugh. “Let me know how it goes.”
“I will. Thank you.”
I reached for the “End Call” button on the console.
“Hey, Lucy?”
My hand froze in the air. “Yeah?”
“I really am sorry about lunch. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
By the end of the next day, I had a new-to-me, year-old, bright blue SUV. Thankfully, the car payment was manageable, courtesy of a bit of name-dropping to my new friends at CarMart Motors. I hadn’t heard another peep from West Adler, not even when I texted him a picture of my new ride.
So much for making it up to me.
Crushing on someone is exhausting work, and after three days of feverishly checking my phone, only to be devastated over and over again, I decided to lay down my torch and put West Adler out of my mind. It was easier in thought than in practice, but I had a lot to keep me busy.
All day Wednesday was spent watching every live video I could find in our industry and cataloging them by their number of views, likes, and comments. Then I studied them to figure out why some had more traffic than others. What I found was surprising.
The videos with the poorest quality by industry standards performed the best. Jana Carter’s Q and A
session had been filmed on a cell-phone camera at the star’s kitchen table. She was wearing polka-dot pajamas and slurping coffee from a mug that said “World’s Okayest Singer” in big, black letters. She posted a link in the comments section to buy the mug online, but the store was sold out and was showing it had 412 backorders. There was a disclaimer in the description: Thank you, Jana Carter, for loving our mugs. We are fulfilling orders as quickly as possible. We appreciate your patience.
By Friday, I had completely rewritten Jake’s release marketing plan to include live-streaming video, and I was a little excited about it. I was also equally terrified, so I drafted a list of every possible thing that might go wrong and how to head each thing off. Like, record early in the party before everyone’s had too much to drink and have only Jake on camera to limit the number of possible liabilities.
I also needed to practice my video skills. So on Friday afternoon, when most of the office had cleared out of the building, I decided to post my first live video to the internet.
I propped the phone up against my laptop monitor and clicked on the live-streaming app that would post to all my social-media accounts. My face on the screen was shrouded in shadows thanks to the wall of windows behind me, so I moved around the other side of my desk to face the light. Better, except the phone was too low, causing a ridiculous case of double(or triple)-chin. I scribbled a note on my sticky pad: Get a tripod.
I held the phone up in the air and clicked the “Broadcast Live!” button with my thumb.
I cheerfully waved at myself on the screen. “Hey, everybody! It’s Lucy. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m using you all as guinea pigs to test out this live video feature for my new job here in Nashville. So let me know in the comments if you can see and hear me all right!”
A couple of stars exploded in the corner of the screen, signaling someone had starred my video. There was an eyeball icon in the corner of the screen showing one…no, two viewers!
“I guess I could give you all a tour of my new office,” I said, standing up slowly and balancing the phone carefully in my hand. “I’ve got a gorgeous corner office at the Summit Tower, and this spectacular view of downtown Nashville!”
It took a second for me to figure out how to flip the camera’s view around. While panning the room, someone left a comment that scrolled across my screen.
Hi, Lucy! - Elly Cooper
Elly was my cousin on my dad’s side of the family.
“Hey, Elly!” I said, turning the camera back around.
Six viewers. Another comment scrolled by.
Looking good, Lucy. - Matt Owen
Matt was my mother’s brother.
I turned the camera back around to face me. “Hi, Uncle Matt!”
Eleven viewers. Another yellow star dinged in the corner.
We love you, Lulabean. It’s your old man here in the islands. I’m using Katherine’s account. This is neat. - Katherine Woodville Cooper
A bowling ball landed in my stomach. “Love you too, Dad,” I said, struggling to keep my voice chipper as I waved at the screen. “I have to get back to work! Thanks for watching my video!”
I clicked the “End Video” button so hard my phone almost slipped from my grip. Another button flashed on the screen. Do you want to post your video? Nope. It really wasn’t necessary.
I sighed and put the phone down.
“Katherine Woodville Cooper,” I said aloud, letting each syllable slide slowly off my tongue. That was going to take some getting used to.
Not everyone in my office was gone for the day. Ava’s door was still open on my way out, so I stopped to share my progress with her—not Audrey.
I knocked lightly on her doorframe. The back of her black office chair was facing me, and she spun around with her cell phone pressed to her ear. She held up a finger to ask me to wait, then pointed to a chair opposite her desk.
I quietly walked in and took a seat.
“You can’t do this to me,” she was saying to whoever was on the other line. “Even for you, it’s cruel.”
My eyes darted to the floor.
She was quiet for a moment. Finally, she huffed. “I’ll call you later.”
I looked up with the sound of her slamming the phone down onto her desk. I cringed and jerked my thumb over my shoulder toward the door. “I can come back if this is a bad time.”
Ava swiped her fingers under her eyes as she looked up, leaving her mascara a little smudged. “It’s fine. Sorry you had to hear that.”
“You all right?”
She forced a smile. “Yeah. What’s up?”
“Audrey wanted me to add live video to Jake’s marketing plan for the new album’s release. She wants to broadcast from the launch party.”
Her eyes were fixed on the wall behind my head. She was obviously still rattled by the phone conversation. “Sorry, Lucy. Live video from the launch party…yes, Audrey mentioned that to me. What do you think about it?”
My head tilted from side to side. “I’m torn. I think it could be huge, but it’s also a huge liability.”
She nodded. “Live video out to millions of people from one of Jake’s parties? You have no idea how high of a liability. I can just imagine the headlines.”
Nausea churned in my stomach. “Think we should try and talk her out of it? We can always record and upload it after we’ve checked the video. That’s what most people do.”
She shook her head. “No. This is the new big thing, and once Audrey has her mind set on something, there’s no changing it.”
“OK. I’ve done a lot of research to figure out how to best make it work.” I handed her a printed copy of the marketing plan. “Since the launch party is on a Saturday night, we need to start mentioning it now. I’d like to send a formal email invitation out to the fan club first, then to his email list, and follow it up with invitations on all his social-media accounts. The week before, we should shoot some informal video invitations with Jake, if possible, and really hype the event.”
Her eyes drifted away from the papers toward her window, lost in thought again.
“Ava, are you all right?” I asked, genuinely concerned.
She raked her nails back through her long dark hair. “Oh, I will be. Don’t worry about me. This all looks really good, Lucy. You’ve done a great job.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll pass the word along to Jake, so he can plan on being on his best behavior.”
“I’ve seen the tabloids. Is that possible?”
“Don’t place any bets on it.” Ava leaned forward, balancing her elbows on her desk. “How are things going with the Adler guy? Are you seeing him now?”
I squished my mouth over to the side and shook my head.
Her shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry.”
I turned my palms up. “At least it was nice to find out that there are some good guys here in Nashville.”
She smiled, for real this time. “True. I mean, I don’t know any but…”
We both laughed.
I stood. “Have a good weekend, Ava. Go do something fun to take your mind off this place.”
“You too, Lucy.”
A tiny surge of happiness rippled through me. “I plan on it.”
And I did.
The first part of that plan was to stop at a shop in East Nashville called Asphalt Beach. I drove straight there after leaving the office, and I parked in front of the brick building with a blue roof and bright yellow window frames. I put my car in park and sat there, letting the engine idle. “This is a bad idea, Lucy,” I said aloud to myself.
I turned off the car before I could talk myself out of going inside. Bells on the front door chimed as I walked inside the colorful room. The walls were yellow and lined with rows of roller skates and wheel displays. A black, red, and yellow oval was painted on the sleek tile floor.
“Can I help you?” a man asked, walking through a doorway to my right in front of the cash register. He was tall and fit, with a bright red ball
cap pulled down low over his eyes.
I swallowed my nerves. “Um…” I yanked open my purse and fumbled through the main compartment until I found the roller derby flyer. I pulled it out and handed it to him. “I’m thinking about doing this, but I don’t have any skates.”
His lips spread into a thin smile. “Fresh Meat, huh?”
I gulped and took another shaky breath. “Maybe. The flyer says you give a discount for members of the team. Does that extend to possible members of the team if they don’t die before they make it?”
He laughed. “Absolutely. Can you skate?”
I shrugged. “Haven’t tried since I was probably ten.”
He nodded confidently. “They’ll teach you.” Using the flyer, he beckoned me to follow him. “Come on. I’ll hook you up. My name’s Steve.”
“Lucy.”
“Nice to meet you, Lucy.”
“You too.” My eyes were on everywhere but where we were walking, and my foot caught the leg of a small metal stool. I stumbled forward and the man spun and grabbed my arm before I crashed to the ground. His wide eyes reflected my own doubts.
“You OK?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
Nervous laughter bubbled out. “I was distracted by your store! So much to look at. So many bright colors!”
He grinned. “Try not to break your neck before we get you into some skates.” His grin faded. “And don’t break your neck then either.”
My giggles were laced with terror.
We continued past a stack of boxes topped with zebra and cheetah print helmets to a wall display of roller skates. He grabbed a pair off a knee-high shelf. “These are the quads I recommend for newbies. They’re quality skates that will hold up for a long time, but I do recommend getting an upgraded set of wheels for the track.”
I took the skate from him. It was heavier than I expected and solid black with black laces and Velcro across the top. The black and red wheels were mounted on steel plates.
“What size shoe do you wear?”
“Seven and a half,” I answered.
He knelt down and looked through a stack of boxes before retrieving one near the bottom. Taking the skate from me, he handed me the box. “Try these.”
