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nothing.” He says this as if he’s answering the question I hadn’t asked.
    I follow him quickly out the door with my notebook in my hands. We walk the length of the office before coming to the door of the conference room. One whole side of the room is lined with large windows that show off a postcard view of Beverly Hills. In the middle of the room is a long glass conference table, surrounded on all sides by Louis XIV acrylic ghost chairs. I run my fingers reverently along the back of one. I’ve never seen these chairs in person, and I can’t believe they use them as conference chairs . . . Actually, of course they use them as conference chairs!
    McKenna is typing feverishly on his smartphone, but he takes the chair to the right of the table’s head and nods for me to sit next to him. All around us the room is quickly filling with staff members. Then it hits me: all-hands, as in all hands on deck. I try and stop my smile from forming but it’s really tough. I’m so excited to be included!
    The beautiful people are finding their seats and sipping on lattes and chatting about everything from a favorite pinot noir to a new band someone saw last night at Hotel Café. It’s all so very LA, and I can’t believe I’m here in the midst of it!
    Miko walks in the room with a large sketchpad under one arm and gold oversize headphones on her ears. She’s wearing leather leggings and wedge sneakers in black suede that I didn’t even know existed before seeing them on her feet. Her oversize black T-shirt is falling off one shoulder and has a screen print of an angry cat on the front. On anyone else that shirt would look ridiculous, but somehow she manages to make it, like, the coolest cat T-shirt ever! I look down at my too-short dress and sigh.
    I need to go shopping.
    Miko sits down across the table and looks up just as Selah and Quade walk in the door. The whole room goes silent, except for Selah, who’s on her phone. Quade takes the seat across from McKenna, and Selah sits down at the helm. And then we all . . . just sit there.
    Selah chats on her phone as if she’s got nothing better to do, as if the room full of people waiting for her doesn’t have anything better to do either.
    “No, of course I don’t. You promised you were taking me out.” She’s smiling and happy, her voice oozing flirtatiousness. “That’s not true. I loved your last selection.” It’s quiet as she waits for the person on the phone to argue the point. She laughs deep in her throat. “Well perhaps you should try a little harder to impress me?” she asks with an over-the-top pout.
    Eew! Barf!
    I look down the table to Miko, who rolls her eyes and leans back in her chair, getting comfortable. Clearly this is nothing new, and we might be here awhile. I wonder if the person on the other end of the phone realizes Selah’s having this chat with a captive audience around her.
    “I can’t wait, Brody. See you then,” she says, breathless and far too sexy for the workplace.
    In quick succession the phone is off her ear and now in her hands. She’s reading something on the screen. She starts to type. She doesn’t look up, and the room stays quiet waiting for her.
    “Quade, I assume I’m not the only one with a million other things to do,” Selah says without looking up from the tiny screen. All hint of the flirty girl is gone.
    Apparently, that is the gunshot we’ve all been waiting for, because Quade leaps from her seat with the eagerness of a thoroughbred on race day. She looks down at the iPad she’s holding and then to the far end of the table.
    “Lerner mitzvah. Taylor, can you tell us what’s going on with production?”
    I look down the table at Taylor. Despite the bad-boy looks and his age, he holds the attention of the room with confidence.
    “We’re good. Rentals are delivered on Friday; A/V loads in that afternoon. Client was annoyed about the need for on-site security to watch it all overnight, but it can’t be