Читать книгу His Best Friend - Patricia Kay - Страница 12

“You’ll never guess who was at the party last night!”

“If you say Johnny Depp, I’ll have to kill you.”

Claudia laughed. Sally was currently wildly in love with Johnny Depp. “No, Sally, not Johnny Depp.”

“Well, that’s a relief! Who, then?”

“You know that cute guy? The one I met in August?”

“The one you called last weekend that didn’t remember you, you mean?”

“Yes, that one.”

“He was at the party?”

“Uh-huh. He’s Philip’s cousin!”

“You’re kidding.”

“And guess what else?”

“There’s more?”

Claudia explained about the mix-up with the business card and how John wasn’t Jason Webb but John Renzo. “Sally, he’s going to be living here. He’s taken a job in Houston.”

“What’re you going to do?” Sally said when Claudia had finished.

“What can I do?”

“I know you really liked him. Do you think you’ll go out with him?”

“I don’t think that’s in the cards.”

“Because of his cousin?”

Claudia sighed. “Yes. They’re really tight. So even if he still wanted to, I doubt John will ask me out.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I don’t know. Right now I’m totally confused.”

“Aside from seeing John at the party, how’d it go?”

“It was fun. I had a good time. Everyone there was really nice. And Jennifer and I really hit it off. I think we could be good friends. If only…” But what was the use of wishing? It wasn’t as if wishes would change anything.

“If only what?”

Claudia sighed again, more deeply this time. “I just wish things would work out the way they’re supposed to once in a while.” She remembered how she’d felt when she and John were dancing. “I mean, I think I could really like John. There’s a real chemistry between us. But now that I’ve gone out with Philip, and I know he really likes me, everything is totally screwed up. John won’t want to step on Philip’s toes and Philip wants to see me again. Oh, shoot. I don’t know what to do.”

“Did Philip kiss you good-night?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And nothing. The kiss was pleasant, but that’s it. There was absolutely no zing.”

Sally was silent for a few seconds. Then she sighed, too. “Why does life have to be so complicated?”

Claudia laughed. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

After they hung up, Claudia sat there pensively for a long time. She kept going over and over everything that had happened the previous evening. The things John had said and not said. The things Philip had said and not said. And the things she had said and not said.

Finally she came to a decision. It wouldn’t matter how many times she went out with Philip. She would never feel any differently toward him. She liked him as a friend and hoped she could keep him as a friend. But there was simply no chemistry between them at all, at least not on her part, and there never would be.

So when he asked her out again—and he would, of that, she had no doubt—she would turn him down.

She would be kind and let him down gently.

And who knew? Maybe Philip would find someone else to date. And then she and John…

Claudia let the thought trail off, afraid to hope.

John spent Monday morning getting brought up to speed on the current working projects at Buffalo Films, his new employer. He’d toured the facility when he’d interviewed, but Kurt Kenyon, who was the owner’s right-hand man and in effect managed the day-to-day operation of the company, gave him a more in-depth tour and introduced him to all the employees who were working in-house that day.

Soon John’s head was swimming with names. Buffalo had about sixty employees, and at least forty of them were there that morning. John knew it would take a while before he could put names to faces, but he made an effort to at least retain the names of the art director and the acquisitions director.

After the tour, Kurt showed John into a small office that contained a no-nonsense metal desk, a four-drawer filing cabinet, a computer and printer, and two chairs—one behind the desk, one off to the side.

“Right now, this’ll be your office,” Kurt said. “When a bigger one becomes available, we’ll move you.”

“This is fine,” John said. He didn’t expect to be in his office much anyway.

Kurt nodded. “Ready to dive in?”

“More than ready.”

“Good. I’ve got a special project for you. In fact, the only reason we got the project was because these people heard you were coming on board.”

John was pleased to know his reputation had preceded him. “Who is it?”

“The Fairchild Cancer Center. They’ve contracted for a promo video with the proviso that you’ll direct.”

“No kidding? But I thought they had their own media department.”

“They’re trying to cut costs and have decided the media department is going. Guess it’ll be cheaper for them to contract out.”

“What kind of promo video?”

“They’re working on an experimental treatment for certain types of cancer and they want us to follow one of the patients who’s participating. A start-to-finish kind of thing.”

“How’re they planning to use the promotion?”

“It’ll be sent to hospitals and cancer specialists around the world as well as shown on various health channels.”

“Budget?”

Kurt named a figure.

John’s eyes widened. At least they seemed willing to spend enough to put out a high-quality product.

“Richard Philbin, their public relations manager, wants to meet with you this afternoon.”

“How much of a crew can I have?”

“A videographer—I’m thinking Paul, you met him earlier, he’s the one with the shaved head, a PA—Laurie’s the best one we’ve got, and an audio tech—probably Doug. They’re a good crew. They’ve worked on several projects together. You saw one of them. That Larrimer spot? You know, the dancers?”

John nodded, pleased he’d have a production assistant. That would take a whole load of crap off his shoulders.

“Okay. Here’s Philbin’s number.” Kurt handed John a business card. “Give him a call. We’ll either talk today after you’ve met with him or tomorrow morning if your meeting runs late. By the way, Susan ordered some business cards for you. We should have them tomorrow.”

John didn’t reach Richard Philbin on the first try and had to leave a message. But Philbin returned his call within the hour and they agreed to meet at three that afternoon in Philbin’s office.

Since John hadn’t anticipated a client meeting, he hadn’t dressed for one that morning. So at noon, instead of going out for Thai food with some of the guys, he headed for Philip’s town house where he changed into black dress slacks, a black shirt and gray tie—his official look.

John arrived at Fairchild fifteen minutes before he was due. Luckily, Philbin’s earlier appointment finished ahead of time, so John only had to wait ten minutes before being ushered into Philbin’s nicely furnished tenth-floor office in the middle of the medical center area.

Philbin turned out to be a handsome gray-haired man of about fifty. He gave John a quick once-over and seemed to approve. After handshakes and an offer of coffee or a Coke, Philbin got right down to business. “What I’m looking for,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “is a video that seems more human interest than self-serving promotion. You know, the kind of thing Dateline or 60 Minutes would do.” He smiled. “Is that possible?”