Page 16 of Wolfish Player
“I am.”
“Good. Mondays, no top floor. You go straight to marketing. Pull ten of the books. Make promo plans before he asks—because he will ask.
“Then, around ten, go up. He’ll give you a list that has to be finished by lunch. Hand it off to the interns.
“And bribe them with coffee gift cards if you actually want help.”
“So… are Tuesdays normal?”
He gives me a flat look. “Start recording.”
My office isthe size of two prison cells, but it comes with a view of the city and a plush pink chair in the corner. It’s also—unfortunately—an offshoot of Mr. Wolfson’s office, so I have to walk through his space to get to my own.
Thankfully, I haven’t seen him yet today, and the only hint of his presence is a neatly handwritten note on my desk.
Miss Barrett,
You can spend your first day by helping with the promotional work for the authors who actually turn in their work on time.
Meet the senior editorial team on the fifth floor. Suite 765.
Try to learn something.
Adrian Wolfson
I hold back a scream and head down to the designated floor. When I make it to suite 765, Mr. Wolfson is standing at the center of the room, addressing a few employees.
Even from across the room, my body betrays me at the sound of his voice—and the way he manages to weaponize a dark grey suit.
“Nice of you to finally join us, Miss Barrett,” he says. “I was beginning to wonder if I should call 9-1-1.”
“I just saw your letter.”
The room falls silent and they all turn to look at me as if I’m the asshole.
I look up, pretending to be fascinated with the ceiling tiles.
“Anyway,” he says, “Editorial team, meet the new junior marketing executive, Miss Barrett. Miss Barrett, meet the team who you’ll be working with on Mondays and Tuesdays.”
“Nice to meet you all.” My gaze is still on the ceiling.
“We have twenty books that start pre-launch campaigns next week, twenty that will release next month, and fifteen guaranteed bestsellers that need to be pushed harder than ever before their pre-orders expire,” he says. “So, don’t let me down.”
As if that’s code for “run off and do things,” they all scatter—leaving me standing alone.
Confused, I move closer to him and clear my throat.
“I hate to ask you anything, Mr. Wolfson,” I say, “but it is my first day, so…”
“So what, Miss Barrett?”
“So, what exactly should I be doing to ‘not let you down’?”
“Staying out of my sight so I can focus is a start.”
“What?”
“I said, you can alphabetize shelves of the upcoming advance copies, make warm calls to our list of fifteen hundred influencers regarding upcoming promo packages, and—” he places his cupof coffee in my hand, “see to it that an intern keeps a fresh one in my hand. I’ll take it out on you if they don’t.”
