Selling Out by Dan Wakefield Read Free Book Online Page B

created.
    â€œFor sure,” said Todd Robbie with a big grin, “it really does sing.”
    Robbie was a friendly guy in his mid-thirties who wore faded jeans with suspenders and a long-sleeved checkered shirt, as if he’d just come in from a hayride. He seemed to agree with Amanda on everything, yet Perry hadn’t figured out whether his deference to her came from a feeling of chivalry to a beautiful woman, or the toadying of a subordinate.
    It was hard to psych out the power hierarchy among the network people, except for the fact—or so Perry automatically assumed—that Harry Flanders, even though he didn’t say anything, was the real head honcho. Perry assumed that because he was the only man wearing a suit . Also, he was the oldest.
    Smiling warmly, Flanders suddenly spoke.
    â€œWell, maybe the first year is the hardest, come to think of it. Why, I often say to Marge—‘Marge, if we lived through that honeymoon, we can live through most anything!’”
    No one seemed to hear him.
    â€œâ€˜The First Year’s the Hardest,’” Amanda repeated, almost in a trance.
    Todd chimed in to say, “You’re right, it really works, Amanda.”
    â€œThis young married couple,” Amanda went on, seemingly oblivious to everyone else, caught up in her own fascination for the subject, “they’re going to continue to grow. We’ll see their real-life story evolve. That evolution will in a sense be what the series is about , am I right?”
    â€œI wish I had said that myself,” Archer Mellis assured her.
    â€œThen we have a problem,” Amanda sighed.
    Perry was feeling dizzy. Trying to follow the sense of the meeting was like riding a roller coaster. The dramatic ups and downs, at least to a newcomer, were not only emotionally exhausting, but mentally disorienting.
    Mellis, of course, betrayed no confusion at all, but squinted at Amanda, as if trying to get her in focus.
    â€œSuppose ‘The First Year’s the Hardest’ goes right through the roof in the ratings?” she asked accusingly.
    Mellis stretched his arms, and nodded.
    â€œShares in the high thirties, top ten every week,” he said, stifling a yawn.
    â€œSo we want to renew it,” Amanda continued, turning her back on Mellis and walking a few paces away, like a trial lawyer toying with a witness. She suddenly turned, bending toward the young executive, pointing a finger at him, and asked, “What if ‘The First Year’s the Hardest’ runs for a second year? What do we call it then? ”
    Mellis put away his Swiss Army knife and looked at his watch, with an air of impatience.
    â€œWe call it ‘The Second Year,’” he said casually.
    â€œLook here, son,” Harry Flanders blustered amiably, “you can’t say ‘The Second Year’s the Hardest’ if you’ve just said ‘The First Year’s the Hardest.’ You can’t fool the people like that, no sir. They’ll remember. They’ll hold you accountable.”
    â€œI couldn’t agree with you more, sir,” Mellis said with almost military respect. He even smiled, and looked around the room with a benign air of explanation, like a patient guru. “We won’t be saying ‘The Second Year’s the Hardest,’ we’ll simply be saying The Second Year,’ which by then will mean to the public the second year of this particular marriage between Jack and Laurie, and by extension the second year of every young contemporary marriage.”
    Amanda LeMay stood immobile, her eyes enlarged, her mouth slightly parted.
    â€œâ€˜The Second Year,’” she whispered huskily.
    â€œDon’t you love it?” Todd Robbie asked, clapping his hands together gleefully.
    â€œI get it,” Harry Flanders said amiably. “We’ll just move right along from there—‘The Third Year,’ ‘The Fourth Year,’