He shrugged. “I think it’s a great opportunity. But it’s up to you. You’re the one who’s going to have to go through with it.”
“I just wish I knew what kooky tricks they have up their sleeves. What are going to be the consequences if I do this?”
“What’s the worst that could happen?” he said.
I hated that question. Reality always came up with so much worse than I could imagine. “I could make an idiot of myself, ruin my reputation, lose my audience, my ratings, my show, and never make a living in this business again.”
“No, the worst that could happen is you’d die on film in a freak accident, and how likely is that?” Trust Ozzie to be the realist. I glared at him.
“Who knows? At best it’ll draw in a whole new audience. To tell you the truth, with people like Tina and Jeffrey involved, it kind of sounds like fun.”
“You know what I’m going to say,” Ozzie said. “Any publicity is good publicity.”
So far in my career, that had been true. I was waiting for the day when it wasn’t. “Let me call Tina and Jeffrey and find out why they signed on.”
* * *
I had Tina’s cell phone number stored on speed dial—she was one of my go-to people on all things weird—and called her as soon as I got back to my office and shut the door. I expected it to roll over to voice mail but was pleasantly surprised when she answered on the second ring.
“Kitty!” she said, before hello even. Caller ID made everyone psychic, at least with phone calls.
“Hi, Tina. How are you?”
“It’s so good to hear from you! Is everything okay?”
People always sounded worried when I called them. Maybe because I only ever called a lot of them when I was in trouble and needed help. I needed to set up more lunch dates or have more parties, to cure people of the idea that a call from me automatically equaled danger. Then again, that was probably a lost cause.
“Everything’s fine for once, I think.”
“I love how you never sound sure when you say that,” Tina said cheerfully.
I sighed. “I’m afraid if I relax at all the universe will dec
ide I need a challenge.” Which brought me to the business at hand. “I’ve just had a visit from a couple of guys with SuperByte Entertainment.”
“Oh yeah,” she said. “Those guys. What a couple of freaks, huh?”
I agreed; I’d found them eerily plastic, like they’d been pressed from a mold: Hollywood sleazebag. “This show they’re putting together? They said you were on board, and I wanted to ask you why you agreed to it. Do you think it’s a good publicity opportunity? Did you… I don’t know… get a good vibe from those guys or what?”
She paused for long enough I thought we’d lost the connection. “Tina?”
When she finally spoke, she sounded confused. “Um… I mostly signed on because they said that you’d already signed on.”
“What?”
“They told me you’d already agreed to do the show. I figured if you’d decided it was okay, it was a good idea, and I thought it’d be fun hanging out with you again.”
“Tina—I heard about this for the first time this afternoon. I hadn’t agreed to anything.”
“God, they lied to me. I shouldn’t be surprised.” I imagined her planting her hand on her forehead.
I tried not to sound angry. “You’re psychic! Can’t you tell when somebody’s lying?”
“I’m psychic—that doesn’t mean I can read minds,” she shot back. “Kitty, you met those guys. They were really convincing!”
“You didn’t think to call me to talk about it first?”
“No. I mean, face it—this show totally sounds like something you’d do.”