Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 60905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
A moment later, Lila cursed. “That’s not good.”
“No, it’s not.” Penny said. I’d known that she did the video production, but I hadn’t realized she worked with Lila on the business side of things, too. “The videos, like the one with you using the typewriter, just didn’t have the reach that your stuff normally does.”
“Crap. So… we need to do more of the kinds of things we normally do, I guess.”
“Yeah,” Penny agreed. “But I don’t know how we do that from here.”
There was another silence, and then Lila’s voice was thoughtful. “We could do tech reviews. Real ones, not a fake review of a typewriter. What’s been sent?”
I didn’t quite understand that until Penny read off a list of products that various companies and sponsors had recently shipped to Lila. It was pretty impressive to hear about the companies she was involved with.
“We could do some of those things from here, if the products were actually here,” Lila mused.
“Could you get your building to forward them?” It took me a moment to realize that Penny meant that those tech products companies had sent were likely being held for her at her apartment building.
“They wouldn’t get here in time.”
“I could drive back and get them,” Penny offered.
Lila said no at the same time I was shouting it in my head. Neither woman should be spending much time in that death trap Penny called a car.
“Or drop you off at the train station,” Penny said. When Lila didn’t answer, she continued. “Or we could just go home.”
I inhaled sharply, waiting to hear what Lila would say to that.
At long last, she responded. “No. I agreed to stay for a week. I need to stick it out.”
“But why?” Penny sounded puzzled.
Apparently, Lila was, too. “I can’t really explain it, I just know I have to stay.”
“Okay,” Penny said, though she still sounded a little baffled. “So let’s change up the type of videos we make here.”
“Like what?” Lila asked.
“Well, those guys challenged you. I thought—and likely the viewers thought—that this week would be a battle of high-tech versus low-tech.”
“Or at the very least, a battle of the sexes,” Lila added.
“Yeah. There’s no doubt those guys are hot.”
I made a mental note to give Penny the biggest piece of the pie I’d made for this evening.
“Besides challenging them outright about something and recording it, what else could we do?” Lila asked. I got the feeling that she didn’t normally depend on her assistant to come up with ideas. It reminded me of how out of her element she was out here. A combination of sympathy and guilt flooded my system.
Penny sighed. “I watched some stuff online from influencers who have brands similar to ours. Their situations aren’t quite the same as the one we’re in now, but it did give me an idea. What if you played some pranks on these guys and we filmed it?”
I held my breath as I waited for Lila’s answer. Finally, she spoke. “I don’t want to do that.”
“Why not? I think our viewers would really respond to that. And besides, those guys did it to you with that fake massage thing.”
“Yeah. But I just… if we pranked them now, we could claim that they deserved it because of that day. But then they could claim that I deserved it because of the way I went after them. And it’ll never end.”
“True,” Penny said, sounding thoughtful. “I still don’t get why you did that. I’d never heard you go off on anyone like that before.”
Lila’s sigh was audible even from where I hid in the kitchen. “I know. I don’t really know why I did that, either.”
There was silence again, and I pictured Penny reaching out and patting Lila’s hand. “It might be something worth thinking about,” Penny said at last.
“Yeah, you’re right.” There was the sound of a chair pushing back from the table. “But for now, let’s get to work on those dishes.”
I slipped silently out the side door and darted downstairs to the rec room. I suspected it would be a long time before I could get the conversation I’d just overheard out of my mind.
21
LILA
The black dress I wore was much too small for me. My mom had gotten it for me in middle school when I’d been part of the school choir. Now it felt tight and restrictive as I entered the church.
Go back.
I looked around, trying to figure out who said that. I couldn’t go back. He was my father.
This already happened. It’s a dream.
Ever since I’d come home from school and found my dad in his favorite armchair, I’d hoped with all my heart that it was just a really bad dream. But it wasn’t.
Mom and I sat in the front pew. I looked everywhere except at the coffin. Dad wasn’t supposed to be in there. He was supposed to be at the kitchen table, eating dinner. Or at his job at the factory. Or out in the garage, working on his Ford Torino while the neighborhood boys watched in awe.