Dating You / Hating You
Page 22
I feel my cheeks warm under the simultaneous compliment and condescension of right-hand kid and the girl to talk to.
“Absolutely,” Carter says, glancing at me a little uneasily. “She’s been nothing but helpful so far.”
Brad raps the knuckles of one hand against the desk and leans back in his chair. “That’s good to hear. Now, if I had to guess what’s cycling through your heads this morning, I suspect there’s a bit of confusion about what’s going on—am I right?”
“Pretty much,” Carter says with a small laugh.
“I get that. I do get that.” Brad straightens, hands folded in front of him. “Evie here will tell you that I am all about playing as a team, Carter. And here at Price & Dickle we are only as strong as our weakest player. Isn’t that right, Evie?”
I say through clenched teeth, “That’s right, Brad.”
“Which means we need every player to be able to knock it out of the park. I brought the two of you in here together for a couple reasons. The first is that between the three of us, I think you two are the best we’ve got. I’ve heard a lot about you, Carter. It’s why I snagged you from TV-Lit—you belong in Features. You two can bring our department back into the game.”
He pulls two files from the bottom of a stack and opens the first.
“You started as a finance clerk at a boutique agency in New York?” he asks, and Carter nods. “And what did you learn from that?”
Carter shifts in his seat, glancing at me before returning his attention to Brad. I didn’t know this.
Obviously, there’s going to be quite a bit I don’t know. So this is a first: getting to know a potential boyfriend through a thinly veiled grilling session in our boss’s office.
“Well, of course I heard a lot of gossip,” Carter admits, smiling easily. “There are agents who act like anyone not involved in a negotiation isn’t really there. Because of that, I overheard conversations I probably shouldn’t have.”
To my own ear it sounds like he’s underselling for some reason, still keeping his cards close. If I’m right, Brad knows it, too.
“That’s it?” Brad asks.
Carter hesitates for a moment. “It’s a good way to learn how people handle pressure, observing it from the outside. You learn to catalog everyone’s reaction, anticipate who will do what when the shit hits the fan.”
Brad smiles, and because I know Brad, I can tell he’s amused by Carter’s casual swearing. By contrast, he would wince and chastise me for doing the same. I feel queasy. I knew Carter was charming but secretly hoped it had something to do with my wanting to bang him. Apparently not, because he’s playing Brad perfectly, too.
“Start at the bottom and take what you learn to the top,” Brad says, nodding.
Carter grins, and charisma seeps into the room. “Something like that.”
Brad scribbles down a couple of notes and turns to me. “Now, Evie here, she could talk a grenade out of exploding. That’s a skill you want to learn, Carter. Lots of people can be decent agents, but it takes a special one to spot talent, and an even better one to keep it. There’s been a stumble or two . . .” He pauses meaningfully. “But for the most part, she’s proven she belongs with the big boys. Hell, she’s trained some of the best agents in this town.”
I bite my tongue. It’s unlike Brad to hand out praise so baldly, and I brace myself, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Now, like I said, I think you two are the best we have, but I’ll be honest. I don’t know if we can keep you both—”
“What? ” we both say in unison.
Brad holds up his hands, motioning for us to let him finish. “Your compensation is comparable—which is why I have you both in here—and I don’t know if P&D will have the room to renew both contracts. At least not here in LA.”
We stare ahead, stunned. I can feel my face going red, my stomach twisting into knots. I’m five years older than Carter and have been doing this job in one form or another since I was nineteen. Judging from what I’ve seen, Carter is probably a great agent, but he’s only lived in LA for two years and is new to features. Like, today new. In what universe is our compensation comparable? Because he’s a man? Who knew a penis was worth so much?
“Brad—” Carter begins, expression grim. I clench my fists at my sides and force myself to take a deep breath.
“It’s not definite that one of you will be shifted over,” Brad says, “but I’ll be honest: it’s likely. We’re all going to have to do the work and see what fits best for the new, combined Features team.”
“I don’t understand,” I say. “P&D is one of the most successful agencies in the country. How can it not keep us both?” I glance to Carter and back again. “Brad, look at my numbers, I outperform—”
“Minus your little speed bump with Field Day,” he says with a superior nod, and I straighten in my chair. Fuck him for bringing that up right now. “Listen, kiddo, the simple fact is that the movie business is down. Expenses are up. Cuts are made in this type of situation, and that’s just the way it is. You two aren’t the only ones this is affecting.”
I glance at Carter. He’s staring directly at Brad. “When you said, ‘Not here in LA,’ ” Carter begins carefully, “are you saying that if one of our contracts isn’t renewed, there’s a chance that individual would be offered a position in New York?”
Brad nods. “For sure there is a position in LA, and a spot in New York is always a possibility. Ideally there would be two positions here, but it’s too early to speculate on that. On any of it, really.”
We both sit there, silent. I stare at a glossy whorl of walnut that stands out in the section of wood grain just in front of me. It’s the size of my fist but takes up only the smallest fraction of the surface of Brad’s enormous executive desk. I wish I could press my finger to it, swirl, and flush this entire exchange down the toilet.
“What I want both of you to do for the short term,” Brad says, pulling my eyes back to his face, “is to put this situation out of your heads. You each have a contract that P&D will see through, and then we’ll examine it again. Evie, you’ve got five months left on your current contract. Carter, you’re due to re-sign in six. At the time of renewal it’s possible there will only be room for one. But you’re not competing. Not exactly.”
The words not exactly fall like bricks dropped from twenty feet up.
“Meet with some of the agents, the support staff—on both sides,” Brad continues with practiced obliviousness. “Talk to the team we have here visiting from New York. Get a sense for how your lists are going to react and how you can retain them—we’ll be talking about that a little later in the week.” He turns to me. “Evie, I don’t think retentions will be as big an issue for you, since your clients were already P&D—so what I would love is for you to show Carter around, show him how we do things. Maybe introduce him to some of your colleagues and contacts.”
I feel sick. Just like with John Fineman, Brad is having me pass along some of my hard-earned connections to a coworker. But not just any coworker: to Carter, my new almost-boyfriend, with whom I’m not exactly competing for a job.
“Absolutely,” Carter says, glancing at me a little uneasily. “She’s been nothing but helpful so far.”
Brad raps the knuckles of one hand against the desk and leans back in his chair. “That’s good to hear. Now, if I had to guess what’s cycling through your heads this morning, I suspect there’s a bit of confusion about what’s going on—am I right?”
“Pretty much,” Carter says with a small laugh.
“I get that. I do get that.” Brad straightens, hands folded in front of him. “Evie here will tell you that I am all about playing as a team, Carter. And here at Price & Dickle we are only as strong as our weakest player. Isn’t that right, Evie?”
I say through clenched teeth, “That’s right, Brad.”
“Which means we need every player to be able to knock it out of the park. I brought the two of you in here together for a couple reasons. The first is that between the three of us, I think you two are the best we’ve got. I’ve heard a lot about you, Carter. It’s why I snagged you from TV-Lit—you belong in Features. You two can bring our department back into the game.”
He pulls two files from the bottom of a stack and opens the first.
“You started as a finance clerk at a boutique agency in New York?” he asks, and Carter nods. “And what did you learn from that?”
Carter shifts in his seat, glancing at me before returning his attention to Brad. I didn’t know this.
Obviously, there’s going to be quite a bit I don’t know. So this is a first: getting to know a potential boyfriend through a thinly veiled grilling session in our boss’s office.
“Well, of course I heard a lot of gossip,” Carter admits, smiling easily. “There are agents who act like anyone not involved in a negotiation isn’t really there. Because of that, I overheard conversations I probably shouldn’t have.”
To my own ear it sounds like he’s underselling for some reason, still keeping his cards close. If I’m right, Brad knows it, too.
“That’s it?” Brad asks.
Carter hesitates for a moment. “It’s a good way to learn how people handle pressure, observing it from the outside. You learn to catalog everyone’s reaction, anticipate who will do what when the shit hits the fan.”
Brad smiles, and because I know Brad, I can tell he’s amused by Carter’s casual swearing. By contrast, he would wince and chastise me for doing the same. I feel queasy. I knew Carter was charming but secretly hoped it had something to do with my wanting to bang him. Apparently not, because he’s playing Brad perfectly, too.
“Start at the bottom and take what you learn to the top,” Brad says, nodding.
Carter grins, and charisma seeps into the room. “Something like that.”
Brad scribbles down a couple of notes and turns to me. “Now, Evie here, she could talk a grenade out of exploding. That’s a skill you want to learn, Carter. Lots of people can be decent agents, but it takes a special one to spot talent, and an even better one to keep it. There’s been a stumble or two . . .” He pauses meaningfully. “But for the most part, she’s proven she belongs with the big boys. Hell, she’s trained some of the best agents in this town.”
I bite my tongue. It’s unlike Brad to hand out praise so baldly, and I brace myself, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Now, like I said, I think you two are the best we have, but I’ll be honest. I don’t know if we can keep you both—”
“What? ” we both say in unison.
Brad holds up his hands, motioning for us to let him finish. “Your compensation is comparable—which is why I have you both in here—and I don’t know if P&D will have the room to renew both contracts. At least not here in LA.”
We stare ahead, stunned. I can feel my face going red, my stomach twisting into knots. I’m five years older than Carter and have been doing this job in one form or another since I was nineteen. Judging from what I’ve seen, Carter is probably a great agent, but he’s only lived in LA for two years and is new to features. Like, today new. In what universe is our compensation comparable? Because he’s a man? Who knew a penis was worth so much?
“Brad—” Carter begins, expression grim. I clench my fists at my sides and force myself to take a deep breath.
“It’s not definite that one of you will be shifted over,” Brad says, “but I’ll be honest: it’s likely. We’re all going to have to do the work and see what fits best for the new, combined Features team.”
“I don’t understand,” I say. “P&D is one of the most successful agencies in the country. How can it not keep us both?” I glance to Carter and back again. “Brad, look at my numbers, I outperform—”
“Minus your little speed bump with Field Day,” he says with a superior nod, and I straighten in my chair. Fuck him for bringing that up right now. “Listen, kiddo, the simple fact is that the movie business is down. Expenses are up. Cuts are made in this type of situation, and that’s just the way it is. You two aren’t the only ones this is affecting.”
I glance at Carter. He’s staring directly at Brad. “When you said, ‘Not here in LA,’ ” Carter begins carefully, “are you saying that if one of our contracts isn’t renewed, there’s a chance that individual would be offered a position in New York?”
Brad nods. “For sure there is a position in LA, and a spot in New York is always a possibility. Ideally there would be two positions here, but it’s too early to speculate on that. On any of it, really.”
We both sit there, silent. I stare at a glossy whorl of walnut that stands out in the section of wood grain just in front of me. It’s the size of my fist but takes up only the smallest fraction of the surface of Brad’s enormous executive desk. I wish I could press my finger to it, swirl, and flush this entire exchange down the toilet.
“What I want both of you to do for the short term,” Brad says, pulling my eyes back to his face, “is to put this situation out of your heads. You each have a contract that P&D will see through, and then we’ll examine it again. Evie, you’ve got five months left on your current contract. Carter, you’re due to re-sign in six. At the time of renewal it’s possible there will only be room for one. But you’re not competing. Not exactly.”
The words not exactly fall like bricks dropped from twenty feet up.
“Meet with some of the agents, the support staff—on both sides,” Brad continues with practiced obliviousness. “Talk to the team we have here visiting from New York. Get a sense for how your lists are going to react and how you can retain them—we’ll be talking about that a little later in the week.” He turns to me. “Evie, I don’t think retentions will be as big an issue for you, since your clients were already P&D—so what I would love is for you to show Carter around, show him how we do things. Maybe introduce him to some of your colleagues and contacts.”
I feel sick. Just like with John Fineman, Brad is having me pass along some of my hard-earned connections to a coworker. But not just any coworker: to Carter, my new almost-boyfriend, with whom I’m not exactly competing for a job.
