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Marsha blinks a few times and shrugs. “Magic and wizards work for me. I may not get to swish my magic wand and get the dishes done, but this sure will make cleaning up spaghetti easier.”
“That’s what I’m saying.” I stand up straighter as the camera crew leave the kitchen. Just like yesterday with Angela, Marsha’s completely surprised at how well it works.
“I’ll leave ten bottles with you since it’s hard to get a hold of right now, but that should only be a problem for the next year while they deal with manufacturing expansions. If you need more, you have my contact information, and I can put you in touch with their marketing department. They’ll get you more bottles whenever you need them.”
Marsha grins. “So you’re good with me using it whenever I’m cleaning? Just order more for zero dollars when I’m out?”
I nod. “You and other CleanChatters like you are Organo-cleanz’s only chance of becoming a national brand. You can sell their product better than anyone else, and I think you want to sell it. If no one buys it, it won’t get stocked, and you’ll be back to trying to use the same stuff that you’ve always used.”
“I understand. I guess I just haven’t had a company keep me supplied. They might send a free sample or two, but never an unlimited supply.”
“If you keep making videos, they’ll keep sending it unless they’re unsuccessful at their expansion, which is a little hard to believe.”
Marsha grins and brushes her hands on her apron. “Yeah, this stuff’s going to blow up CleanChat. I just hope we get it in stores soon. People are going to be begging for it.”
“My thoughts exactly. Well, I’ve got to get going. I’m supposed to be in Pittsburgh by this evening.”
“Thanks for reaching out, and safe driving. Those mountain roads are a little squirrelly.”
I give Marsha a wave as I follow the crew out of the house. Another successful influencer will be promoting Organo-cleanz. I’m not even sure if we’ll need to do our own marketing at this rate. The influencers are loving it, and their word of mouth is probably more valuable than any ads we could put together with this footage.
I sigh as I crawl into the van and pull out my phone. I think about texting Em, but decide against it. He hasn’t texted me at all today, so I’m sure he’s busy. Instead of giving it any more thought, I flip open a fantasy romance book I’ve been hearing about.
This trip has made me feel like it’s less about shooting videos and more about sitting in a van. I’ll be glad to get home tomorrow night. Then I’ll have four whole days where life can be normal again.
I just wish that Em would text me back.
Chapter 46
Emery
“Goddamn it,” I mutter as I pull the phone out of the puddle. Well, that thing’s ruined by the look of the mud all over it. I glare at the guy who continues to walk past me even after he nearly knocked me over.
Some days, I’m glad that I’m rich, and a two thousand dollar phone doesn’t matter. It’s just annoying that I’m not able to talk to Madison because of it.
What a terrible lunch. That’s what I get for trying to leave the office to try out a new hole-in-the-wall barbecue place that Elijah Harris recommended at the last advertising convention I went to. Come to find out, they’re not open on Mondays. Who isn’t open on Mondays?
I had to settle for a crappy sandwich from a deli, and now I’m down a phone. I walk up the stairs to the World Bank Building and hurry through the lobby toward the golden elevator doors.
Every time I walk through them, I remember Madison losing her skirt, and even today, when I’m having a lousy day, it’s hard not to smile as I think of her in those massive panties.
The rest of the people on the elevator seem to be having just as lousy of a day, and no one talks, but the glares on their faces tell me everything I need to know. It’s just one of those days.
To get through the day, I’m going to need some more coffee. I wave to Sandy and walk through the idea room. No one looks at me for more than a second, but they all notice me. I try to keep a smile on my face like they expect, even though it’s hard to maintain the illusion of happiness.
Luckily, no one is ever in the break room right after lunch. Yet, as I get close, I hear someone whispering on the other side of the open doorway.
“She’s fucking the boss. There’s no way that she’d leave. The only way you could convince her is if you broke them up first.”
What kind of weird conversation is this? And who is it?
I stop for a moment, curiosity making me eavesdrop. “I have to go. Don’t call me at work again. Texts only.”
That’s even stranger. I need to know who it is, and so I step forward. Shonda looks up from her phone, obviously surprised. “Oh, hey Emery,” she says and gives me a shaky smile. I know I caught her doing something she shouldn’t.
“How’s it going, Shonda? Talking to your boyfriend?”
She huffs and seems to relax a little. “What boyfriend? That was my dad who refuses to believe I have a real job where I can’t chat about the weather with him.”
