"Weiner-PurplePill" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weiner Andrew)

ANDREW WEINER

THE PURPLE PILL

ONE

Conway was sitting at his drafting table, stirring non-dairy creamer into his
second cup of coffee of the day, when Jackman called.

"Barry," he said. "Where the hell are those storyboards?"

Conway put down his coffee. "Storyboards?"

"For the Fairfax pitch. They were supposed to be on my desk this morning."

Conway tried to collect his thoughts. "I gave that one to Hal to finish up . .
."

But even as he spoke, he remembered that Hal had called in sick yesterday. Which
had left just him and Nora scrambling to keep up with.the rush of other work.
The Fairfax pitch had simply slipped through the cracks.

Only a year or two ago, Hal's absence would hardly have been missed. As a Group
Art Director, Conway had managed a team of half a dozen artists. And there had
been a fat budget to call upon freelancers to handle overloads. But that had
been before the agency's billings had begun to spiral downward, before Conway's
group had been downsized and downsized again.

These days, he was lucky to have any help at all. Judging from the flood of
resumes that crossed his desk, and the desperate calls from former colleagues,
he was lucky to have a job himself.

Another screw-up, and he might not have it much longer.

"I'm sorry, Lou," he said. "Hal's off sick. I guess it didn't get done."

"We need that account, Barry," Jackman said. "Badly."

"You'll have the boards tomorrow. First thing."

He put the phone down and picked up his coffee. It was cold, but he drank it
anyway. He would need it, to get through the day that stretched ahead of him.

He had worked late the previous night, then slept poorly, listening to his
daughter cough in the next room. She had been coughing for what seemed like
weeks. Her pediatrician was waiting on the tests, but he was pretty sure that it
was asthma.