“Hey wait a minute,” Joel says. “You said you came up with this character so the writing would play to both adults and kids. Our show Bucky and the Beaver Patrol does that in spades, and without offending women and people of color.”
“I’m not here to argue with the staff. We’re here to launch a new initiative and I need everyone on board if they still want their jobs here.”
Joel wilts back in his seat. He just bought a new house and he can’t afford to be out of work right now, so he gets quiet and resigned to the new reality.
My disgust is so overwhelming that the rest of the meeting is a murky blur. The only command that stands out is his direction that our team and Bruce’s team will be working on the pilot together, and naturally it’s a rush job since he has to present it to the corporate mothership before they sign off on the series.
It’s a good thing that Arnold has to rush off to a big-wig meeting, since that allows everyone to vent all the way back to our cubicles.
“I’m not working on this misogynistic, racially insensitive, ludicrous concept,” Dani insists. “I wish Billie was in that meeting, she would’ve kicked his ass.”
I picture that very idea with a smile on my face. Billie, the owner of our favorite comic book store and all around badass, takes no prisoners. She would have Arnold quaking in his Armani shoes after his proclamation.
“And who does he think he is, having his lawyers send cease and desist demands to existing users of the title when we haven’t even made a cartoon yet?” Bruce comments.
“I’m calling the union,” Genna states. “I’m not working on that garbage, and neither is the rest of my team if we can figure a way out of it.”
We’re almost back to our work area when I quietly take a detour and head to Brooke’s office. Her assistant isn’t at her desk, so I step into her doorway and wait for Brooke to get off the phone. As soon as she sees me, she wraps the call up and waves me in, telling me to shut the door behind me.
She gestures to the couch, but I remain standing with my hands shoved into my jean’s pockets. “What was that all about?” I’m surprised that I have the courage to be so direct with her, but Arnold pushed me over the line. Besides, I can’t hide my disappointment in her encouraging his craziness.
Is her resulting fallen expression guilt? She purses her lips together and looks down at the papers on her desk. “I tried, Nathan … you have no idea how hard I tried to talk him out of this. He just wouldn’t listen to me.”
“You should hear them downstairs. We’re a few grumbles away from a walk out.”
“I know, I know,” she says with a sigh.
“But I thought that we were better than this, Brooke. I mean, not all of our shows are great, but none of them are sensational just to get the wrong kind of attention. We won't just hurt many of our viewers … we'll be the laughing stock of the industry.”
She leans her elbows on her desktop and rests her face into her open hands before groaning.
I clear my throat. “I’m not going to get behind this and have my name attached to such an offensive idea.” I silently wonder how she could have ever started dating such an ass as Arnold and then agree to their “open” relationship. Maybe this fiasco will be the final straw that breaks up what is already a relationship for show at best. Then I’ll be right there to show her how much better a devoted boyfriend like me could be.
She lifts her head up and gazes at me with hope in her eyes. “There’s got to be a way to stop him. I’d really appreciate it if you helped me figure out how.”
I think about all the time we’ve spent together the last few weeks outside of work, our special friendship starting with me helping her transfer her data from one computer to another and then evolving into so much more. If you would have told me just a few months ago that after divulging my geeky social awkwardness to Brooke, that she would be spending quality time with me and teaching me how to not just charm a girl, but how to be a great kisser, I would have thought you were nuts. But now look at us. Just remembering how our last time together felt makes my face feel hot. I hope I’m not beet red.
“Okay, I’ll help you, Brooke,” I respond to her plea. “But you know that means we’re going to have to be super heroes. So I hope your Wonder Woman tiara and silver cuffs are easily accessible.”
She sits up taller and grins. “They are. And will my Clark Kent be ready to transform into Superman? Dealing with Arnauld will be a piece of cake for you compared to stopping a speeding bullet.”
“Indeed,” I agree, pushing my glasses up my nose. “He’ll regret ever challenging the likes of us!” Holding my arms open to beckon her, I command, “Come here Wonder Woman.”
She quickly gets up and steps around her desk until she is close enough to fall into my arms. “Oh, thank you Nathan!”
I wrap my arms tightly around her and rub my hand up and down her back to calm her. I feel guilty that all of my anger about what Arnold has planned is fading away, replaced with the sheer perfection of having Brooke pressed up against me. The longer I hold her the more she seems to relax, and when she finally looks up at me, I am overcome with desire to kiss her again. And this wouldn't be one of our kissing lessons, but something far more spontaneous.
She seems to have the same idea as she reaches up and cups her hand around my neck to draw me nearer. Next thing I know our lips are pressed together, with each kiss becoming deeper until I’m wondering how this will possibly stop - since I’m pretty sure I could kiss Brooke forever.
It’s the blasted knock on her office door that finally snaps us back to reality.
“One minute,” Brooke calls out to her snarky assistant.
“He’s calling you into that meeting, and he says to hurry,” Morgan warns through the crack in the door.
“Okay, okay,” Brooke calls out. She smoothes her hair and pulls her shirt down over her slacks. “Is my lipstick all over my face?” she asks me.
I lovingly wipe off the bits that look suspect on her flawless skin, and then grin at her before dragging the back of my hand across my lips. “What about me?”
“I think you got it all,” she says with a smile. “I’ll call you later,” she whispers as she turns and rushes out the door.
Brooke messages me later that she wants me to come over tonight and help brainstorm a plan with her. She already told Arnold that her stomach is bothering her, so they will have to put his “celebration dinner” off for another night.
I show up at her condo in the Hollywood hills with two six packs of Stella beer and a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts for dessert. Meanwhile, Brooke picked us up French dipped beef sandwiches at Greenblatt’s deli. We eat outside on her balcony. With the warm breeze, the terrific view of the glittering L.A. skyline, and Brooke right next to me, I’m by far the happiest I’ve been all day.
“How are you doing?” I ask, “You’re kind of quiet tonight.”
She frowns and pushes her plate away. “I just never thought my career would end up being so ridiculous. All I wanted was to work with talented people, and put out quality, imaginative animation. But I’m left with my bogus, sham-of-a-boyfriend-slash-boss humiliating our studio with his unmanageable ego and idiotic ideas. What is my life, Nathan?”
I reach out and take her hand. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Brooke. After all, what is a dynamic career if you don’t have at least one or two idiots for bosses? That should fuel your ambition when you realize you are so much smarter than they are.”
“Aww, you're trying to make me feel better. Thank you, but what about our immediate problem? He’s not backing down from his bird-brained concept.”
“The beauty of filmmaking is that there are always reshoots and editing. If there is a clear vision and goal, anything can happen,” I say cryptically. “Hey, I brought my remastered Looney Tunes DVD’s. What do you say we watch some?”
She gives me a soft smile. “Well, between curling up with you, those cartoons and this,” she holds up her second bottle of beer that I just opened for her, “I should be feeling much more optimistic very soon.”