Read Madison Avenue Shoot Online

Authors: Jessica Fletcher

Madison Avenue Shoot (3 page)

“Her picture is on the cover,” I said. “Overalls and a straw hat.”
“That’s the one,” Donna said. “She—”
“That’s not a real celebrity,” Frank said. “They should use a rock band. I could give them the names of my favorites. How about Five for Fighting, or—?”
“Don’t interrupt, dear,” Donna said.
“They’re also using Lance Sevenson,” Grady said. “He hosts the program
It’s in Your Stars
.”
“The mystic?”
“Yes. You know him?”
“We were on a panel together once. He’s, well, he’s an interesting man.”
“He’s nuts is what you mean.”
“Grady!” Donna frowned at her husband and cocked her head toward Frank.
“But some people
are
nuts, Mom, aren’t they?”
“We don’t talk that way about people, Frank,” Donna said, placing her hand on his and drawing it away from the loose ribbon. “We just say he has an unusual point of view.”
Grady muffled a laugh.
“Your celebrities should get Permezzo a lot of attention,” I said.
“They could really use someone like you, Aunt Jess.”
“Me?”
“You’re a famous writer. They’d be happy to have you in a commercial. I think I could arrange it.”
“I don’t think so, Grady, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“No, really, Aunt Jess. They would be thrilled to have you in their commercial. I mentioned it to Dan Howerstein, the producer. The lady from the agency was there and they got all excited.”
“Grady,” Donna said, her brow knit, “you didn’t promise that Aunt Jessica would be in the commercial, did you?”
“I didn’t promise,” he replied, holding up his hands in defense. “Not at all. I just, uh, I just said I would ask. Aunt Jess is a bigger celebrity than any of those people.”
“Yay! Can I watch you be in the commercial, Aunt Jessica?”
“I’m not going to be in any commercial,” I said, smiling at Frank. I looked up at Grady. Misery was written all over his face.
“This is something we can talk about later,” I said. “Now, I think this might be the perfect time to open the present.”
Frank grabbed the silver box and tore at the paper.
“Take it easy, son,” Grady said, putting a hand on Frank’s shoulder. “Your aunt Jessica got you a very special gift that might be, well, fragile, or breakable. Be careful with it.”
Donna smiled and hugged herself while she watched Frank, who now worked at the knot in the ribbon very slowly, his excited eyes flashing from his parents to me and back to the box. I had checked with Donna and Grady before buying Frank’s gift. I wanted to be sure they approved, and also that Frank was old enough to take on the responsibility of something that wasn’t designed to withstand rough handling.
“An iPod! You got me an iPod!” Frank bounced up and down in his seat, laughing. “I always wanted one. Michele has one and he listens to his all the time. It’s his special treasure.”
Grady cleared his throat. “What do you say to your aunt Jessica, Frank?”
Frank got up from his seat and came to where I sat. Clutching the iPod to his chest, he said solemnly, “Thank you, Aunt Jessica. It’s what I wanted most in the whole world.”
“Looks like I made a good choice, then,” I said. “You enjoy it.”
“I’m going to put music on it right now. Can I, Dad?”
“We have to read the instructions first.”
“I know how to do it. Michele showed me.”
“Nevertheless, we’re going to read the instructions.”
“You two go ahead,” Donna said, rising from her chair.
“Yes, go on,” I said. “We’ll clean up.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Donna told me. “You’re a guest. Besides, there’s hardly enough room in this kitchen for one, much less two.”
“I can be a guest another time,” I said, picking up my dessert plate and carrying it to the sink. “How about if you wash and I dry?”
We had the kitchen clean and dishes put away in short order. I was folding the dish towel when Frank came back to the living room with a huge grin on his face.
“I’m going upstairs to show Michele my iPod. We called. His mom says it’s okay.”
“Just for a few minutes, sport. Your aunt Jessica came a long distance to see you. You don’t want to be rude.”
“We’ll be right back, Aunt Jessica. I just want to show Michele the great present that you got me. We can dance together now. He’s got ‘Superman’ on his, and now I put it on mine.”
“Isn’t that a movie?” I asked.
“It’s a song.”
“He really does know how to load that thing,” Grady said, shaking his head. “Kids and computers. He’s a lot faster than I am.”
“Say hello to Mary for me,” Donna said as Grady and Frank walked out the door, and we took seats on the sofa.
“He’s so excited about his friend Michele,” I remarked.
“He’s a good friend,” she agreed.
“Is he in school with Frank?”
“No. Michele is sixteen.”
“Sixteen? That’s quite an age gap between them.”
“Michele is a Down syndrome child. He has a little difficulty with speech—Italian is his first language—but he’s making great strides. He and Frank met in the laundry room when his mother, Mary, and I were doing the wash. They hit it off right away. At first, I thought that Frank was flattered by the attention of an older boy. And Michele was happy to befriend someone who accepted him for who he is. Then they discovered that they both like the same kind of music. And they laugh at the same jokes. Michele is quite the jokester.”
“A good foundation for friendship,” I said. “I’m proud that Frank is his friend. It says a lot about his character.”
“Frank’s a very generous, open boy, and so is Michele.”
“You and Grady have done a fine job with Frank.”
She laughed. “Tell me that on the days when getting him to dress for school is like pulling teeth. There’s no one who can procrastinate better than Frank.”
“Maybe it’s in the nature of little boys. I seem to remember Grady putting off his homework until the very last second.” I smiled at the memory. “He was a handful,” I said, “always excited about something new. He’s still a bit like that, I think.”
Donna’s eyes met mine. “I’m sorry, Aunt Jessica.”
“About what?”
“I didn’t know that Grady was hoping you’d be in one of the commercials.”
“No harm done,” I said. “I’ve always been curious about how commercials are made, but even so, I’m not sure I want this face on camera.”
“Why not? It’s a wonderful face.”
“You’re such a dear. We’ll talk about it more later, maybe after Frank goes to bed and Grady can tell me exactly what he said to this producer.”
I had a feeling that Grady had promised the producer that he could convince me to be in the commercial. He’d been impetuous from the time he was a boy, and it was his boyish enthusiasm that sometimes got him into trouble. While it was one of his most endearing traits, it could also be a trying one. How many times had I had to rescue him from the consequences of his eagerness to please? More times than I could count. I’d have to think about this. Did Grady need to be rescued again? I hoped not, but a little voice was telling me that that might be the case.
Chapter Two
“I
think it’s a great idea.” “You do?” “Absolutely! Your next book is coming out in April and it could use some exposure. I talked to Vaughan Buckley just the other day.” Vaughan had been my publisher for many years. “He says they’re cutting back on marketing budgets, like most publishers. That especially impacts well-known writers like you. You know how it is—your books get published and they sell well because of your large and enthusiastic fan base, which means the publisher can spend less on advertising and PR. But being on national television could raise your sales to an even greater level. Your fans will see you up close and personal on millions of TV screens across America. I think doing a commercial makes a lot of sense, Jess. It’s not something to walk away from.”
“But it’s a commercial for a credit card, not for my books.”
“It’s exposure, Jessica. Name recognition. Could save you the wear and tear of a book tour.”
“I don’t mind book tours, Matt. I enjoy meeting my readers.”
“You can do that, too.”
Matt Miller sat across from me at the City Bakery, a popular coffee shop, gourmet bakery, and salad bar close to my hotel and downstairs from his office. He took a sip of cappuccino and peered at me over the rim of the cup.
“I suppose,” I said.
Frankly, I was surprised that Matt was so keen for me to participate in a commercial for Permezzo. I was a little suspicious, too. He’d never suggested I do anything of this sort before, and there had been other opportunities for endorsements that I had routinely declined.
He’d also acted strangely when I’d arrived at his office. He was standing by the elevator when the door opened, and immediately ushered me back inside it, not even giving me a chance to say hello to Paulette, his receptionist. He’d called over his shoulder to her, “Tell her I’ll call her back” as he joined me in the cab and pressed the button for the first floor. “I can use a little caffeine to keep me going this afternoon,” he’d said by way of explanation.
“Don’t you need a coat? It’s chilly out.”
“Nah! It’s right next door,” he’d replied.
Now, at a small table in the City Bakery, I took a sip of its famous hot chocolate and eyed my agent. Always well dressed, this day he wore a crisply tailored pink and blue striped shirt with his initials on the cuff, a navy silk tie, and suspenders in a miniature pink and red check. He’d left his suit jacket upstairs.
“Okay,” I said, “what else should I know?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, his eyes widening in an effort to appear innocent.
“Come on, Matt. We know each better than that. You’re not telling me everything. I’ll just keep drumming at you until you do.”
“Am I as transparent as that?”
“Yes.”
“All right, Detective Fletcher, here it is.” He leaned forward and said in a low voice, “I have a new client. In fact, she’d called just as you arrived.”
“Why didn’t you take her call?”
“Because we had a date for coffee. Besides, I don’t want to seem too easy to reach.” He laughed. “I think you’re my only client, Jessica, who doesn’t call every day just to chat.”
“Writers get lonely,” I offered. “Writing is a lonely profession.”
“Yeah, I know all that, but I can’t spend my day holding their hands over the phone.”
I raised my eyebrows and asked, “Is this client a big secret?”
“Not anymore, at least not from you. But you have to promise you won’t talk to anyone about this. I haven’t announced it publicly yet.”
“What haven’t you announced?”
“That I’m about to represent Anne Tripper’s latest book.”
“Anne Tripper? She’s one of the other celebrities in the commercials for Permezzo. Did you arrange that?”
He shook his head. “No, but I encouraged her to accept the offer. I’d be a happy man if I could make a deal with Permezzo for all my clients. It’s a great way to get them attention without making it look like they’re pushing their books. Product placement, Jessica. Branded entertainment. Talk to the consumer about one thing while guiding them in another direction.”
“Sounds a little sneaky to me.”
“Just smart marketing. It’s the way things are done these days.”
“But it’s just a television commercial for a credit card,” I said.
“That’s not all it is,” he said. “It’s a national cross-media campaign. Magazines. Billboards. Radio. Internet. Permezzo will put the spots on their Web site with profiles of the celebrities in their ads and links to learn more about them.” He leaned forward to make the point. “Like about the books they’ve written.” He sat back. “They’re developing a travel-related video game. There’s even talk of a reality TV show. Wouldn’t surprise me if they posted the commercials on YouTube for your fans to download. We’ll put a link to them from your Web site.”

My
Web site?”
“Of course.”
“My Web site is for communicating with my readers and for publicizing my books, not for advertising Permezzo.”
“It’s not advertising for Permezzo, unless you want it to be. It’s just a link to something you’re involved with. That’s the beauty of it. It’s all about you.”
“And the commercial,” I added.
“Yes, but it’s the commercial you star in. This kind of stuff is done every day.”
I sighed and sat back. “This is a lot more complicated than I bargained for. I thought I’d be helping out Grady, but I never realized I’d be making a commitment of this nature.”
“It’s the new world of advertising, Jessica, and I, for one, think it would be a good move on your part.”
“And on Anne Tripper’s part?”
“She’s already committed. It’ll do great things for her. Her books sell well, but by no means is she up to your level yet in terms of fame, but I think that might change. I have a feeling her new book is going to be a blockbuster. If there’s anyone in America who doesn’t recognize her name today, they’ll know it once the book comes out.”
“That’s quite a statement. What’s it about?”
“Can’t tell you. Not that I don’t trust you, but, well, actually, I’m not entirely certain myself. I assume it’s another industry exposé—she’s already written about nuclear energy, processed foods, and the toy market—but she’s holding her cards pretty close to her vest. I can tell you that there
will
be a few people who won’t be happy when it hits the bestseller list. She says she has the inside dirt on some heavy hitters.”
“I’ll look forward to reading it,” I said, wondering why Matt would be willing to represent a book whose contents were still under wraps.
“Tell Paulette when we go back upstairs to put a note on her calendar to send you an advance copy.”

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