that.”
I nod, and to my surprise, compassion rises to the surface more quickly than I anticipate. I may not understand her choice in animal companions, but I can offer her some pointers on recording booths. “This mic here is incredibly sensitive, so you won’t need to speak loudly, just clearly.” I demonstrate how close she should be for the best quality and how to minimize unnecessary mouth noises, which I will be working to eliminate on my end as well. She nods like I’ve told her the secret to immortality, and it takes a Herculean effort to cut my gaze away from her piercing green eyes.Jade, I think to myself. That shade is called jade green.
At least these tips will be useful to her if she decides to make a career out of this.
“Thanks,” she says after she swipes to another page on her phone. “I think I’m ready.”
I exit the padded booth and round the corner to find Chip fishing the cat out of the pack. I don’t even bother with a sarcastic comment. I’d rather pretend neither of them exists at the moment.
“Do we wear headphones out here, too?” Chip asks as Phantom attempts to crawl up his arm.
I hand him a pair and say, “Don’t even think about taking theseoff and leaving them where they’ll get chewed on or clawed. They’re not replaceable.” With my current savings, none of my equipment is.
“He’s a cat, August, not a wolverine.”
“Tell that to the three-inch scar on the back of my neck.”
I can almost hear his eyeroll.
I instruct Sophie to say the ABCs so I can get a baseline for her levels and adjust the controls accordingly. For a woman her age, the mature texture of her voice is unusual. It has the same velvety quality that a professionally trained singer might possess.
Chip taps me on the shoulder, and I slip my left ear out of the headphones. “Did she tell you about her impressive résumé?”
I shake my head once.
“She’s an actress.”
“As is most of the population of southern California.” I adjust the EQ.
Chip is undeterred. “No, like arealone. She majored in theater and has worked on many live productions in New York, including on Broadway.”
Ah, so that’s how New York fits in. So why on earth would she choose to record books over acting on a stage? She certainly has the look of an actress. I bring up the master mix when Sophie reachesWin the alphabet and cut Chip off when I press the intercom and tell her I’m all set to record whenever she’s ready. This time when she smiles, all I have to do to fight off the pinching sensation is look at her cat.
I tap the red Record button and then point at Sophie through the glass window that separates us.
She starts to read, but my concentration is divided due to Chip tapping me on the shoulder. Again.
“Yes?” I pull back an earphone.
“If I get the green light on Sophie from my author, she would get a ton of positive exposure as well as an immediate second contract for the sequel. It’s a rapid release that will be ready for preproduction in early winter. But we expect Allie’s launch will be epic.”
“Allie? As inAllie Spencer?” I give him a baiting look. I’ve heardher name come up dozens of times since I moved back home. Supposedly, she’s a young author who lives in Washington State but interned at Fog Harbor Books while finishing up her creative writing degree last year. Chip swears there’s never been anything unprofessional between the two of them—seeing as he’s been her editor—but I haven’t heard him talk about any of the women he’s casually dated even half as much as I’ve heard him mention Allie.
“I’m choosing to ignore the implication in your tone,” he says dryly. “But yes. Allie Spencer, one of my authors.”
“And what happens if you get promoted after all this? Will she still be off limits?”
He opens his mouth, closes it, and then shakes his head as if it’s the first time he’s even entertained the idea. “Let’s just focus on the demo.”
“Fine.” I slip both ears back on and work to concentrate on Sophie’s voice, careful not to meet her gaze through the glass, which is far more difficult than it should be. I stare at my controls while I take in the quality of her enrapturing cadence for nearly a minute. I have no idea what this story is about, but somehow, I feel like I’m in it right beside her. Seeing what she sees, feeling what she feels—
Tap, tap, tap.
I push aside my headphones and sigh.
“She’s really good, isn’t she?”
“I wouldn’t know, you keep interrupting.”