Third Time's a Charm

by Virginia Smith

  “Are you ready, Ed?”

  Ed jerked upright at Susan’s voice. “I think I’ve got it.”

  Tori watched as Susan directed Ed to stand at the edge of the counter. From the angle of the camera, she guessed that would include a good shot of the colorful fish aquariums and, on the counter beside Ed, some hamsters in a plastic cage with bright yellow tubes running throughout. The pegboard behind the counter held a mishmash of items, and looked . . . well, messy. Not the best shot, in Tori’s opinion, but she didn’t want to offend the experts, so she kept her mouth shut. Susan adjusted Ed’s stance and positioned his arms so that one rested casually on the counter. Then she backed up to stand beside Hal, who watched through the camera. Tori saw him press a switch, and Susan said, “And, we’re rolling.”

  Ed swallowed, and managed to look stiff in spite of his carefully casual stance. He stared at the camera and cleared his throat. “At Nolan’s Ark, we understand that your pet is a special member of your family.” His voice trailed off, and he froze for a long moment, then slumped. “Uh, I’ve forgotten what comes next.”

  Tori turned to Susan. “I could hold cue cards for him.”

  The woman’s lips tightened. “You could, if we had any. But we were told he’d have the script memorized.”

  Tori would have made some cue cards herself, if she’d known. Next time, she promised herself. In the meantime, she crossed to the opposite end of the counter and grabbed Ed’s script. “We’ve been in the pet business for more than ten years,” she read.

  Ed’s face cleared. “That’s right. We’ve been in the pet business for more than ten years, and we know about your pet’s needs.” He stopped and looked at Susan. “Should I start again from the beginning?”

  Tori watched as Hal pressed a button on his camera, then straightened. Susan’s smile was thin. “Yes, let’s try it again from the top.”

  Ed stretched his neck and ran a finger around his collar. “Okay.”

  Susan waited for Hal’s nod, and then told Ed, “We’re rolling.”

  The man’s expression became wooden, his stare fixed. “At Nolan’s Ark, we understand that your pet is a special member of your family. We’ve been in the pet business for more than ten years, and we know about your pet’s needs.” A pause. A gulp. “We . . .” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Whatever you need . . .” His shoulders slumped as he shook his head, his gaze sliding from the camera to Tori. “I’m sorry. I thought I had it.”

  Susan didn’t bother to hide her heavy sigh. Tori felt sorry for the man, who’s face became a darker shade of red with every second that ticked by. Not all of his flush was due to the heat, though Tori was starting to feel a little sticky herself.

  She glanced at the paper. “You do have it. That was the next line. Whatever you need, you’ll find it at Nolan’s Ark.”

  He put a hand on his forehead. “I thought so. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stopped.”

  “Tell you what.” Susan took the script from Tori and handed it to Ed. “Let’s run through it a couple of times with you reading from the script. We’re going to do some panning of the store, and we can use that as a voice-over. Then maybe we can get just a few shots of you doing one line at a time. Sound good?”

  Instant relief flooded Ed’s face. “I can do that.”

  That sounded like a good plan to Tori. And maybe going over it once out loud would help him remember his lines.

  Susan turned to face the camera, and crossed her eyes where Ed couldn’t see. Tori had to duck her head to hide a grin. The director returned to her place slightly behind Hal and spoke with a patience Tori wouldn’t have credited the stern-faced woman with.

  “Alright, Ed, go ahead, read it all the way through.”

  Ed nodded. He stared at the paper, his lips moving.

  “Out loud, Ed.” Susan’s voice held the first hint of irritation.

  “Oh!” Ed’s head jerked upward. “I was waiting for you to say, ‘We’re rolling.’ ”

  Tori turned away, laughter threatening to bubble through the lips she pressed tightly together. Poor Ed. He really was trying, but his nerves were getting the best of him.

  The muscles in Susan’s jaws bunched as she clenched her jaw. “We are rolling, Ed.”

  “Alright.” Ed drew in a deep breath and began to read from the paper. “At-Nolan’s-Ark-we-understand-that-your-pet-is-a-special-member-of-your-family-we’ve-been-in-the-pet-business—“

  “Stop!”

  From where she stood, Tori could see the director’s hands grasp each other tightly behind her back. “Ed, the purpose of this take is to get a good reading of the script so we can use your voice while the audience looks at the interior of your store. So it’s important that your voice sound natural. It’s coming out a little stilted.”

  Ed hung his head. “I’m not a very good reader. That’s why I was trying to memorize it.”

  “I see.” The knuckles on her clasped hands turned white. “Let’s try it again without the script, then. I can give you verbal cues, and as long as you stand in one place, we can edit my voice out back at the studio.”

  The red handkerchief appeared, and Ed wiped frantically at his forehead. “Okay.”

  He’d barely begun his recitation when one of the puppies in the kennels along the far wall let out a yap, which was quickly answered by a bark from the opposite end of the line. In the next instant, every puppy in the place had joined in.

  Hal clicked off the camera and lifted his head. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to filter out that noise.”

  The director didn’t bother to hide a very loud and dramatic sigh. “Ed, can you do anything to shut them up?”

  Tori covered her grin with a hand. Did all commercial shoots have this many problems, or was she just lucky enough to get a weird one on her first assignment?

  Ed looked around blankly for a moment, as though he hadn’t noticed the Bark Fest. “They must want attention. I usually let them out of their kennels to play while I’m getting the store ready to open.”

  Tori heard a low giggle coming from the other side of the wall of fish, where Zoe and Miss Muffett played. “Can your daughter keep them busy for a few minutes?”

  Ed’s expression cleared. “Yes! But she can’t safely reach the upper kennels. If you could . . .”

  Great. And get dog hair and puppy stench all over her clothes? But the protest died on her lips at the pleading look on Susan’s face. She pasted on a resigned smile. “Sure.”

  “Here. Take these.” Ed snatched the cookie jar off the counter and thrust it into her hands. “They’re puppy approved. Just break them up for the smaller breeds.”

  Smaller breeds? Meaning there were larger breeds? An image of Ken’s giant mongrel loomed in Tori’s mind as she cautiously made her way to the back corner of the store to find Zoe. She eyed the double row of kennels warily, but none of the dogs appeared to be saddle-ready.

  She found Zoe inside an eight-foot-square area cordoned off by a waist-high wall. A sign on the wall read “Pet Play Area.” Two folding chairs sat empty in one corner while Zoe crouched on the floor, giggling as she tossed a stuffed toy for Miss Muffett. The little dog hopped across the floor after the toy, which was as big as she. The girl looked up as Tori approached.

  “Hi. You’re name’s Zoe, right?”

  A strand of dark hair that had come loose from high pigtails waved as the child nodded.

  “Your daddy told me to come help you get some more puppies out to play with.” She held up the cookie jar. “We’re supposed to give them treats to keep them quiet.”

  As though to emphasize the point, the dogs’ barking grew louder. Tori glimpsed Susan through the aquariums, her grim expression magnified to fierce proportions by the water.

  “We can get them all?” Delight lit Zoe’s face as she leaped to her feet.

  “Well . . .” Tori glanced around the play area. “Do you think they’ll fit in here?”

  “Sure they will.�
� The girl opened the half-door and eased out, gently keeping Miss Muffett from escaping with her foot. Tori set the cookie jar on the floor and followed her to the kennels.

  The chorus of barking increased to a frantic pace as Zoe opened the bottom kennel and lifted out a wiener dog puppy. A pink tongue appeared and bathed the child’s face, which sent an answering flutter of revulsion to Tori’s stomach. Gram and Grandpa had a dog when she was living at home, and she used to let that one lick her in the mouth. Until Allie pointed out that dogs used their tongues as toilet paper.

  “You get those,” Zoe instructed, pointing to the kennel on top of the wiener dog’s.

  Tori eyed the much larger kennel’s occupants. Two puppies, each one easily three times the size of the little one Zoe had taken to the play area. German Shepherd, the sign mounted on the front of the wire crate read. Both puppies shoved noses through the grating, their long, thin tails wagging behind them as they tried to see which could out-bark the other. Tori lifted the spring-loaded handle on the kennel and eased a hand inside. Her fingers touched fuzzy puppy fur.

  “Okay, just stay calm,” she told one while she tried to get a grip on the other one, who was using her fingers as a teething ring. “I’ll come right back for—oops!”

  Just as she lifted one puppy out, the other, determined not to be left behind, leaped out of the kennel toward her. She snatched it out of the air with a scooping motion, wedging it to her body with her free hand and arm. The wiggling creature dangled with its front paws scrabbling at her skirt and its hind claws digging into the skin of her neck.

  “Aack! Help!”

  She whirled to find Zoe rushing toward her, arms outstretched. “You’re supposed to use two hands,” the little girl chided as she rescued the animal.

  “I was trying. That one is a kamikaze puppy.”

  Zoe cocked her head, a question on her face. “No, her name is Shaylee.”

  The child marched to the pen and opened the door a crack to wedge her way in without letting the two inmates escape. Tori tried to ignore the stinging in her neck as she followed, holding tight to the other puppy. Giant ears stood at attention on top of a narrow face like satellites, the poor thing. This baby was going to have to do a lot of growing to justify ears that big. Tori’s hand encircled the soft fur of its chest, and felt a wild heartbeat pounding against her palm.

  “Here, I’ll take her.”

  Zoe stood inside the pen, arms outstretched. The tiniest hint of reluctance surprised Tori as she handed the puppy into the little girl’s arms. Then she felt the stinging scratch on her neck, which had become a long welt.

  “Ouch.”

  Zoe tilted her head up to inspect it. “You’ll be okay. Just wash it with soap when you get home.”

  The voice of experience, apparently. Tori nodded, and then followed the child to the next set of kennels. In a few minutes they’d unloaded twelve puppies in sizes varying from Miss Muffett’s sister to an adolescent yellow lab that Tori didn’t want to carry, so Zoe led with a firm grip on the collar. When they put the last animal in the playpen, Zoe climbed over the wall and descended into the mass of fur and wiggling puppy bodies.

  Except for an occasional happy yap, silence reigned. The smell of puppy fur and dog breath clung to Tori’s clothes. She brushed at a suspicious spot on her blouse, and tried not to think what it might be. In the other end of the store she heard the drone of Ed’s voice, then Susan’s, then Ed’s again, saying, “All our animals receive the highest level of care, and are guaranteed to be healthy and happy. Because here at Nolan’s Ark, pets are not just our business. They’re our family.” At least they were getting it done.

  She started to turn away, and looked into the play area in time to see Zoe break a treat into pieces and feed the two Shepherd puppies. Miss Muffett and another fluff-ball jockeyed for position in her lap while the yellow lab licked her neck from behind. The child’s delighted giggle rang musically in the store.

  Tori stopped, an idea clicking into place. If the point of the commercial was to project a family appeal, wouldn’t it be better to show some family fun instead of panning across the kennels with the puppies staring through wires like a bunch of inmates while Ed’s dull voice droned in the background? Of course, she knew nothing about commercials, but Phil did say if she had any ideas . . .

  She hurried over to the filming site and plucked Susan’s sleeve. “I want to show you something.”

  At first she thought the director would refuse, but then the woman heaved a loud sigh and followed. Apparently she didn’t want to argue with the official representative from Connolly and Farrin. Tori led her quietly to the edge of the pet play area, where an ecstatic Zoe lay sprawled on the floor, covered in playful puppies.

  Tori didn’t have to say a word. Susan watched for only a few seconds before a wide grin transformed her features. “Hal,” she called, “how quickly can you get a light set up back here?”

  As the cameraman moved one of the umbrellas, Tori stood out of the way with Ed Nolan and explained. “Since you’re talking about pets being part of the family, I thought it would be a good idea to show pets interacting with a child. They’ll probably use the original voiceover idea, and some clips of you talking as well as some clips of the rest of the store. But Zoe was having so much fun with the puppies, it seemed like a good idea to capture that fun on camera.”

  Ed’s eyes fixed on his giggling daughter. “She’ll steal the show from her old man.”

  “I hope it’s okay,” she said. “If you’d rather not, we can always go back to the original plan. Or if you like the idea but don’t want to use Zoe, we could even schedule another shoot and hire a child actor.”

  “And rob her of her chance to be a star?” He shook his head, laughing. “No way.”

  “And, uh, you know what else you might consider?” Tori didn’t look at him, but watched Hal fiddle with the camera’s angle as she spoke. Phil had mentioned that Ed insisted on doing this commercial himself, so she didn’t want to offend him by suggesting too many changes. “Instead of standing there behind the counter with your arms at your sides, maybe you could be interacting with the animals too. You know, hold a kitten or something. It might help you appear less . . .” She bit her lip and cast around for a word that wouldn’t give offense.

  “Awkward?”

  “I was going to say nervous. Plus, I think it will help keep people focused on the animals, which is the whole reason for advertising, right?”

  “That’s a good idea.” His grin widened. “See, this is why I hired your firm. I needed an expert to tell me what works and what doesn’t.” He rubbed his hands together. “This is going to be a great commercial. I can hardly wait to see it on TV.”

  Tori folded her arms and gave a satisfied nod. She’d received a battle wound and she smelled like a cross between a doghouse and a locker room, but if the client was happy, her first commercial shoot was a success.

  Tori took the time to go home for the second shower of the day before heading to work. It was almost lunchtime when she parked her car in the garage. Her cell phone rang as she stepped into the elevator. She pressed the button for the sixth floor before sliding the cover up to answer the call.

  “Hello?”

  “Kate Bowman here.” Tori straightened to attention, and immediately felt ridiculous. Her boss couldn’t see her all the way from Chicago.

  “Hello, Kate. How’s the last day of the conference going?”

  As always, niceties were lost on Kate.

  “Where are you?” Undisguised irritation made her voice snap like a whip. “Mitch told me your desk has been empty all morning. You didn’t tell me you were taking the day off.”

  Tori fought a wave of irritation, whether at her nosy co-worker or her demanding boss, she wasn’t sure. “That’s because I’ve been working. Phil asked me to fill in for him at a taping this morning.”

  In the silence that met her, Tori worried that she’d gotten Phil in trouble. But surely he didn’
t expect her to keep secrets from her boss, especially when she had been doing legitimate work for one of the firm’s clients.

  “I see.”

  The weight of those two words made Tori wince. She decided the wisest course of action was to change the subject. “Did you need something?”

  “I wanted to let you know that the Maguire people will be in the office on Monday.”

  Tori snapped to attention a second time, just as the doors opened on the sixth floor. She wasn’t ready to present anything. She barely had any ideas at all. “What’s the purpose of the meeting? They’re not expecting to see preliminary ideas, are they? Because I haven’t got anything good enough for the client’s eyes, yet.”

  “You haven’t come up with anything?”

  Tori sucked in an outraged breath, fighting against an angry retort. Maybe if you’d stop calling and emailing every ten minutes, I would.

  The doors started to close, and Tori slipped between them. She emerged in the lobby of Connolly and Farin, where Fran sat behind her desk, tapping on her computer keyboard. Tori waited until she could speak calmly. “I’ll work on it. Do we have an agenda for the meeting?”

  “Rita’s working it up. No presentations. Just a meet-and-greet. Their request, so they can get a look at the firm and the team who’s working on their account.”

  The team. Yeah. What an interesting idea, letting your employees work as a team instead of pitting them against each other.

  “I see.”

  “Nine o’clock. Make sure you’re not late.”

  The line went dead. Tori scowled at the phone as she rounded Fran’s desk and headed for her cubicle. As expected, her computer hadn’t even finished powering on before Mitch sauntered in and draped himself across her guest chair.

  “Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to show up for work.”

  Tori ignored the jab. The smirky Mitch had returned. One thing about the guy, he was anything but predictable. He had more moods than a menopausal woman.