The Frame-Up (The Golden Arrow #1)(19)
“I agree,” I say as firmly as I can. Authority is good in an art director, right?
Edward Casey Junior sits forward and steeples his fingers on the table. “I’m glad you agree with Andy’s proposition that you go first. So would you like to present your ideas for The Hooded Falcon, or would you like us to come back to you?”
Thor’s hammer. I mentally shake myself and gather my professionalism around me like a cape. I can do this. Small bobble. Back on the horse, or the speeder bike, or whatever. “Yes, of course.” There. Perfect delivery. Professional. Not at all apologetic like I’ve been daydreaming.
I flick copies of the panel I drew last night across the table. Andy catches sight of the panel and shoots me a look. This is the idea he didn’t like. I do, though, and if I’m going to be art director, I have to learn to take risks. Champion my own cause. March to my own drummer.
“The current direction of The Hooded Falcon differs from where the comic started, what originally made it popular. I’m proposing a historic reboot. A story line that would take us back to the roots of The Hooded Falcon, away from the c—” I stop myself short of calling what we’ve been currently writing crap. “—current story line with the alien overlord and back to social justice. We can reawaken the love people had for the first series, especially those that have stopped reading the comic because it’s so different. I want to bring back an old story line but in a unique way, using current crimes to copycat the Falcon’s iconic battles.”
Edward Casey Junior frowns, shifts in his seat, then tucks the panel into his notes. It’s a death knell. “I don’t see how that would tie in with the current story line.”
Ah. I prepared for this. “It wouldn’t have to be in canon. It could be a time to use a special issue—”
Casey Junior waves his hand, not even hearing me out. “I want to keep continuity, especially with the video game coming out.” He looks at me, his gaze inscrutable. “Someone up for an art director position would need to think globally about marketing, product branding, and momentum.”
Was that a dig at my proposal or my application for promotion? Or both? Dammit, I was prepared for this, and he didn’t even listen to me. Everything I rehearsed, the story lines I brainstormed. All wasted.
There’s a rustling of paper as the other executives follow suit and tuck my beautiful rendering of a modern Hooded Falcon into the notes from the meeting. I’ve been dismissed. Color me Batman in Knightfall. I’m fighting the good fight but getting my rear end handed to me. How does this keep happening? My ideas are good, dammit.
“But—”
Casey Junior has already moved on and looks at Andy expectantly. Instead of moving ahead and presenting his own green-light proposal, though, Andy glances down at my drawing.
“Retro is in these days,” Andy starts, as if he knows anything about what is “in these days.” The guy thinks Hawaiian shirts are the height of fashion. “Everyone is into reboots. Star Trek, Sherlock, Batman. We’d be missing out if we didn’t capitalize on what’s popular.”
I snort. Hadn’t I just said that? Sure, I said we needed to move away from the current story line, but what I meant was adding a retro flair. That was obvious when I said historic reboot. Historic equals retro. Retro is popular.
I expect the same rebuff, but Casey Junior nods thoughtfully at Andy.
Andy sees the nod and continues, patently avoiding eye contact with me. “Jumping off MG’s idea, what if we did a reboot celebrating the thirtieth anniversary of The Hooded Falcon? A limited-run graphic novel. It wouldn’t have to be in the main story line. Something fun like the Falcon solving the same kind of crimes from the original series. Get people thinking about the good old days of comics—nostalgia? It would tie in perfectly with the anniversary, and we could keep continuity in the canon for the video game.”
What. The. Hell? That’s my idea. No, my ideas. The limited-run graphic novel from Hero Girls, mashed with my idea for the classic reboot and the copycat crimes. Mine, mine, mine. Sure, Andy somehow managed to make it sound flashier than I had in my presentation, but surely everyone at the table realizes that Andy just presented my idea again. The idea they’d just shot down. The idea he shot down last Friday. My mouth flaps open then closed. “Jump off MG’s idea” my ass. “Switched a few words and served it up” was more like it.
Casey doesn’t bat an eye. “I like that. We could market it as limited edition, crank up the price. It will appeal to our major market.” Casey Junior drums his fingers on the glass-topped table once, then bangs his hand down, making the glasses of water and coffee jump. “Done. Have your team move forward on it. Good thinking, Andrew.”
I can’t just let this pass. “Sir. I—” Half the heads swivel in my direction. I don’t even know what I’m going to say. Accuse Andy of stealing my idea? Rail against them for giving Andy the time to respond to his criticism and not me?
Andy sees the look on my face and knows I’m about to out him. He also can probably read in my face that I’m gearing up to make a scene worthy of a comic book panel: KAPOW—MG slugs her newly minted nemesis across the table. I push myself out of my chair so fast, I startle the man next to me.
Andy’s Adam’s apple bobs frantically, panic etched on his face. “Thank you, sir,” he says, whipping his attention back to Casey Junior. “But it wasn’t just me. I mean, MG had the idea for the limited edition.”