Ship It(17)

“Caty Goodstein. We’ve met. Many times.” She finishes typing, then looks up at Jamie, slipping her phone into her blazer pocket, the bright pink bunny ears sticking out the top.

“Uh-huh,” Jamie says, looking her over, “I remember.”

“Do you think they will? Cancel us?” I ask. It’s starting to feel more and more likely. I have to get that Red Zone role. Demon Heart can’t be my only option.

“No one’s getting canceled yet,” Paula Greenhill says, waltzing in, wearing a charcoal-gray pencil skirt and matching fitted jacket, all straight lines and authority. She’s followed by an entourage of four or five assistants.

Paula puts her enormous purse down on the table with a thud, then flicks Jamie’s shoes with her fingers until he takes his feet down. “They don’t need to come to any renewal decisions until well after the finale,” she says. “We still have plenty of time to get people excited about our little show…. Is that what you’re planning to wear?” Paula looks directly at me. I glance down at my black jeans and white T-shirt.

“Um, yes?”

“Donna”—Paula nods at one of her assistants—“a little help?” Donna jumps to action, rummaging through a tote bag.

“What are you, a medium?” Donna asks me.

“Yeah.”

Donna pulls a black T-shirt out of her bag and rips the tags off it. It’s a Wonder Woman shirt—brand-new, but weathered to look old.

“See if this fits,” Donna says, handing it to me.

“Got any Red Zone shirts in there?” I ask, craning my neck to see what else is in that bag. Does she have other clothes, other sizes, other styles? Is her whole job to walk around with nerdy clothes in case people like me didn’t dress ourselves with the appropriate care?

“That’s not really the brand we’re going for,” Donna says.

“Put it on, Forest,” Paula calls.

I sigh, because yes, I take off my shirt for the cameras all the time, but that’s for work. I don’t like the expectation that just because they’ve seen me shirtless once means they’re invited to look at my body whenever. But there’s no dressing room here, so I pull off my T-shirt, very aware of the army of publicists probably checking out my abs. Not to mention Caty and Jamie, and Rico for crying out loud. And yes, they’re nice abs. I work really hard on them. But still, they’re mine.

The shirt fits. Donna pokes at my hair a bit before she leaves me alone, satisfied.

“You look great,” Paula says. “Perfect for this crowd.”

“Yeah, how big is this panel even going to be?” Jamie grumbles. “This entire convention couldn’t fill a courtroom.”

“We’ve found it actually doesn’t matter how many people are physically in the room so long as we generate great content. Demon Heart’s audience are internet people. Caty’s going to be live-tweeting and blogging the panel, and we’re livestreaming the feed. All you have to do is be interesting.”

Awesome, that’s not terrifying or anything. I wander over to the plush chairs where Rico is sitting, hoping that by staying in his orbit, he’ll keep some of the spotlight off me. As I sink into the chair next to him, he nudges my boot with his shoe.

“You’ll be great,” Rico whispers to me, which I take to mean my nervousness is written all over my face.

“Everyone take a deep breath. This is a strategy that’s worked before. We’ve done amazing things using social engagement on Ice Queens, Darkness Falls, and Time Swipers.”

Jamie snorts at the mention of Time Swipers. “So basically it’s all on our shoulders now. Just don’t say anything to screw it up,” Jamie says.

“How could we screw it up?” I ask. My nerves are already running high, but my stomach clenches even more when I remember that Jon Reynolds might be out there, too. A lot could be resting on this.

“Don’t worry, it’s a friendly crowd,” Rico says. “You’ve talked to fans before, right?”

“Not really,” I tell him.

“Handsome and lucky. Some people get it all,” Jamie mutters.

“Everyone just be yourself,” Paula says. “Except you, Jamie, you should try being someone else. Someone excited to be here.”

“We don’t really get a lot of fans out there in North Carolina,” I tell Jamie. It’s true, though aside from a few random locals, we didn’t have many fans come by set. Rico always said it was because our fans weren’t the “Confederate flag types,” which we do see a lot of on the trucks that drive past the woodsy areas we shoot in. But what does that mean? Who even watches Demon Heart, anyway? And what do they think about Smokey?

What do they think about me?

“You’ll be great,” Rico says. “Convention fans are the most supportive audience you can imagine. They’re here because they already love you. I mean, you know what fans are like.”

I conjure up an image of the people I saw out on the floor. “They’re nerds.”

“Sure,” Rico says.

“Geeks.”

“Yeah.”

“Fanboys,” I say.

Jamie, Rico, Paula, Caty, and the assistants all look at me. I’ve said something wrong.