“Let me introduce our team,” Carly said. “Kerry Michaels, head of marketing, Bradley Manion, chief financial officer…”
She spoke fast, each word meticulously pronounced, and Lizzie tried to concentrate on the names and positions that went with each face. But the blood was rushing through her ears so loudly that she found it difficult to process. How would she make it through her sales pitch if she couldn’t even concentrate through the introductions?
“We’re very impressed with your program, and we’d like to hear about how it came to be. There is very little about it online, and you’ve done an excellent job of masking your identity. We scoured the Internet and have not been able to find a single connection between Lizzie Barber and the Naked Baker.”
“Yes, that’s done by design.” Lizzie was shocked that the answer came so easily. She went on to explain how she’d learned about proxy servers in college from a friend, and from there she took them on a tour of her journey from Cooking with Coeds to the Naked Baker. She was surprised at how confident she sounded and was even more pleased to realize she’d been able to make eye contact with each of the members of the FCN team without faltering in her explanation.
One of the intimidating bunch, a blond female with angular features and a sharp gaze, said, “We’d like to see your tax returns to verify the figures you’ve provided.”
“Yes, of course.” Holy cow, tax returns? They must be serious. “I can have them to you by Monday.”
One of the handsome men sitting across the table asked, “Have you at any time had a business partner?”
“No. From the inception of the program I have been the only person working on the show.”
They fired off questions from all sides for the next forty-five minutes, and Lizzie hoped she was handling her answers well. She was being honest, and she couldn’t do much more than that.
Carly cleared her throat and lifted her chin. All eyes shifted to her, and she looked even more regal than she had when she’d come in. With respect shining in the eyes of the others, the intimidation Lizzie had sought to avoid suddenly settled in.
“Lizzie, you’ve proposed a sale of the rights to the program, but you do realize that you are the program, don’t you?”
Lizzie’s mouth opened, and her brain scrambled to find an answer. She and Blue had talked about this. Duke had given her tips on what to say, but her brain had gone completely blank. Her pulse sped up, and she felt her cheeks flush. She was in for a full-on panic attack if she didn’t get a grip on herself soon.
She dug deep, remembering what Duke and Blue had told her. She’s a real ballbuster. Be ready to negotiate as if your life depends on it. Blue’s words came next. You make the decisions. They need you more than you need them.
In their advice, she found her voice—and her answer. “Yes, up until this point the show has been all my doing, from planning to taping, editing, and analyzing. But I wear a blond wig and thick dark glasses, and as you pointed out, my identity has been kept secret. If you hire the right actress to play the part, so the sensual side of the program remains essentially the same, viewers will never connect the dots. Furthermore, I only have the ability to tape the shows twice a week, because I do have another business to run, but another person might be able to film seven days a week, generating even more income.”
“Seven days a week is the plan,” Carly said with a sophisticated tone and a wry smile.
“I’m also willing to consult on a limited basis, with meetings handled at such times that they will not negatively impact my other business.” She had no idea where that came from, but it sounded well thought out and that was a feather in her cap. They began ping-ponging questions at her again, and as she volleyed answers, surprising herself with her abilities, she realized that if she had the confidence to do the Naked Baker program, she could sit at this table with sophisticated city people and handle herself just fine.
***
NIGHTCAPS BAR WAS a favorite gathering spot among Blue’s brothers and their friends. It was owned by Dylan Bad, a guy who knew how to make anyone feel welcome, and because of that, the place was always jammed. This afternoon was no different. Blue had been sitting at a booth with his brothers Cash and Duke since he’d dropped off Lizzie, and there hadn’t been a quiet moment since they’d arrived.
Normally crowds and noise wouldn’t bother Blue, but his attention was already stretched thin, as he was worried about how Lizzie’s meeting was going with the FCN executives.