Page 9
“I’ve had mornings where I’ve managed to spill coffee down the front of a shirt before I even got to work. At least yours smells good.”
I dabbed at the stain, grateful that he hadn’t made a bigger production of the mishap.
His amusement was obvious, though, and when I glanced up, I found him smiling.
It was a lovely smile.
Really, the man should have been required to obtain a permit.
My tablet chimed with Oliver’s incoming call, rescuing me before I could demonstrate any additional physical incompetence.
Oliver appeared on the screen in a neatly pressed shirt, his close-cropped brown hair immaculate.
“Good afternoon, both of you. Hudson, thanks for making time to meet with Peyton. I hope you’ve had a chance to review the information I sent over.”
“I read what I could during my break,” Hudson replied. “I’ve got a few questions, though. I’m not interested in having my name or picture plastered all over the internet because somebody thinks a lumberjack reading romance is a good advertising gimmick.”
I couldn’t blame him for that.
Oliver nodded. “And that’s entirely reasonable. The proposed agreement covers one audiobook only, and there’s no permission to use your name, image, or personal information in promotional material without separate written approval. You’d also have the option of working under a pseudonym.”
Hudson leaned back against the booth.
“Good. Because I like my job, and I don’t particularly want my crew asking me to read them bedtime stories.”
I covered a laugh with my napkin.
“Depending on the stories, they might find them very educational.”
His eyes shifted toward me.
“Is that what you call the book you’re recording? Educational?”
“Well, it certainly contains information I didn’t acquire during my English-literature degree.”
Hudson laughed.
The sound made me want to order another latte solely to give myself an excuse to sit there listening to him.
Oliver went over the trial payment and the larger fee Hudson could earn if he passed and chose to sign the one-book contract.
The numbers were generous enough that even I raised my eyebrows.
Hudson listened carefully, asking sensible questions about the recording schedule, confidentiality, and what would happen if the test revealed he wasn’t suited to the work.
“You’ll be paid for the trial regardless,” Oliver explained. “If our reviewer confirms that your voice and delivery are suitable, we’ll finalize the narration agreement before recording anything for the finished book.”
“And I’d be working with Peyton?”
“Yes. She’s our lead narrator on this project and knows the manuscript exceptionally well. She can coach you on performance and recording technique. Our production staff will handle the technical review and postproduction.”
Hudson considered that, then looked at me.
“So you’d be teaching me how to read?”
I smiled. “I’m assuming you’ve mastered the alphabet. We can start a little farther along.”
His grin widened.
