“Do you want me to send them to you?” Patrick says, throat bobbing anxiously on the question.
“Send me what?”
“Nash,” Harpreet hisses, and I glance at her then back at the screen Patrick is standing next to. On it are four different mock-ups with the Out & About logo.
“The ideas for the official podcast logo,” Patrick says. “Should I email them to you?”
“Nash doesn’t check his email,” Harpreet says at the same time I say, “Which one do you like?”
The room gets quiet. Harpreet and Patrick have some kind of silent conversation before Patrick licks his lips and says, “This one. It has the festival logo, and the headphones and aux cable make it clear it’s a podcast.”
“Fine,” I say. “Let’s go with that one.”
“Doug!” Harpreet’s voice rises in alarm.
“What?” I say, annoyed that she’s making a big deal about this when the decision should be simple.
Doug’s head pops through the meeting room door, like he’s been waiting to be summoned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nash just made a decision in less than a minute.” Harpreet points at me like I might be carrying the plague.
I roll my eyes. “Oh, shut up.”
Doug shrugs. “Must be a glitch in the Matrix.”
“Well, which one do you like?” I ask.
He squints at the screen, then says, “The second one, with the headphones. It differentiates the podcast from the rest of the festival.”
“See? Why does this need to be a big deal?”
“Because you make a big deal about everything? Have you picked a web designer yet?” Harpreet says.
I scowl at her, but Doug is nodding beside her. I glance toward Patrick, and he looks ready to step in front of the projector beam to be incinerated rather than say anything. The way his head is tilted, a faint shine of something sparkly, like the craft glitter the boys use sometimes, is visible in his hair. It distracts me for a second before I remember I’m trying to leave.
“Is there anything else?” I ask Harpreet.
“Patrick is going to be talking to a few freelance sound editors about production. Do you want to see his shortlist when he’s done?”
That sounds tedious. I check my phone again. 4:42. So close to getting out of here.
“Just let me know if your preferred editor is more than 10 percent more expensive than the others. If they are, put together a case for why we should hire them or go with the runner up.”
“Are you going to want to talk to them?” Harpreet says.
“No.” I go to stand. “Is there anything else?”
“What about the web designer?”
I wave my hand in annoyance. “Whichever you like is fine, I trust you.”
“What is with you lately?”
I scowl. “Nothing.”
But she persists. “You’re leaving work early; you don’t want to be in charge of making every single decision. Something’s changed.”
“Nothing’s changed.” My toes are tapping impatiently, and I have to clench them in my shoes. “You guys could run this place without me. I’m trying to give you more room to do what you’re good at.”
