“How kind of you to grace us with your presence.” Ozzy didn’t blink at all, just stared straight through his ex. “Trying to set up some special deal with Ms. Kaplan while we’re all where we’resupposedto be?”
“Oswald. How…necessary to see you.” He set everything down on the table, then took the only other remaining chair at the round table, right between Mason and Robinson. “I didn’t even know this was the same person we were supposed to be meeting. I just saved some of her paperwork while she was juggling everything, trying to get upstairs. Then, since we were both going to the same place, I offered to take some of it over for her.”
Ozzy’s mouth tightened down to almost nothing, but he offered no retort. He’d never appreciated having his full name used, and Evander seemed to take every chance presented to needle him about it. Even when they were still a couple.
“I really am so sorry about this.” Eliza clasped her hands in front of herself and nodded, wide brown eyes raking around the room. “They didn’t apparently remember that I’d pre-ordered coffee for us. Usually, we would just make it in-house, but…sorry. You don’t need to know everything about the office right now. Not until you sign the contracts.” She laughed, a high, tight sound, and her already bulging eyes somehow got even larger.
“You seem nervous.” Bunny smiled at her. “You don’t have a chair?”
“Like you said, nervous. If I sit, I can’t pace around.” Eliza closed her eyes and took a couple deep breaths. “All right. I guess I should just get out of the way that I’m a fan. I love Pine Point Fixer Uppers. When I was in college, that’s what I would put on when I was studying. And to go to sleep. And when Icouldn’t afford actual streaming services, which was basically all of my time in college. Even got my roommate hooked on it.” Another little chuckle and she wrung her hands over and over at her waist. “My fiancé and I bought a place and it needed some serious work. I got him hooked on you guys, too, and we’ve been renovating ourselves.”
“Because of our little VideoHead channel?” Mason laughed, smiling wide. Looking around, even Aras and Ozzy, the resident sourpusses, looked at least abitsoftened to hear Eliza’s story. At the very least, Ozzy had focused a placid expression on her instead of trying to light Evander on fire with his brain, and Aras has his arms at his sides.
“I wouldn’t call your channel little.” Eliza thumbed through the papers on the table in front of her, then passed around a stack of them. “When the higher-ups decided they wanted to dip their toes into streaming, and they needed some flagship shows to convince people to buy in, I thought of you. But before I could make that pitch, I had to prove that you all did decent numbers. Enough to be considered. It would be my first time taking such an active role with production.”
When the stack came around, Jacob took a sheet. He hadn’t looked at the channel in a long time. It brought up too many sore memories. So seeing the numbers this many years down the line took him aback more than a little. Over two-hundred-million lifetime views, and still half a million subscribers. At their peak, they’d been creeping up on three-quarters of a million. They were also still bringing in tens of thousands of views a month, in spite of completely abandoning the channel years previously. All Jake knew was that Mason dispensed small payments to them each month. Nothing crazy, but enough to not have to worry if he wanted to stop for a fancy coffee sometimes.
Bunny whistled low and long. “That channel did this?”
Mason nodded sharply. “I’m a little concerned that you got these without me involved in the process, but yeah. These seem right.”
Eliza waved the concern away like a gnat. “No worries. Part of our job is keeping an eye on different sorts of media. So we have tools and connections the public won’t.” She splayed her hands out on the table and leaned forward. “The point is, you guys have excellent numbers, and I can give you the breakdown on your overall analytics across the web, but you’ve maintained a cult following in spite of the channel going on hiatus for so long.”
The word ‘hiatus’ hung in the air as everyone quickly glanced to each other, but not too long. All of them knew that was nothing but dressed-up language they’d used in their farewell video. It wasn’t a hiatus. It was the end of Pine Point Fixer Uppers.
At least, that had been the plan until Eliza emailed.
“Can we get down to brass tacks, Ms. Kaplan?” Aras folded his hands on the table and the light gleamed off his hair, cast stark shadows on olive skin. “The email chain gave us allsomedetails, but not enough for any of us to make an informed decision.”
For the first time in years, the entire Pine Point Fixer Uppers crew agreed, nodding and waiting for an answer.
Eliza dug into her pocket and pulled out a slim remote. One tap and the TV behind her came on. Another and it flicked to a series of charts and graphs and numbers. “You’re welcome to look into the specifics of this, but the numbers that are relevant to you are here.” Another tap and most of the information grayed out, leaving only a few pieces of data intact and visible. “We would start with a single season run, eight episodes. The talent budget breaks down to seventy-five-hundred dollars each per episode.”
The room stilled, other than Evander pulling out his phone and tapping away at some numbers. After a few seconds, his eyes widened. “You’re talking sixty-grand apiece for this season?”
Eliza nodded. “I know it’s on the low end for talent, but I don’t intend to give you all the runaround on this. It’s the most we can do. Plus, of course, all the travel expenses, wardrobe, publicity. For what that’s worth.”
No one else said anything until Mason finally cleared his throat. “Eliza. Ms. Kaplan. Would it be all right if we had the room for a few minutes to discuss this?”
“Of course. And please. It’s Eliza. No need for formality.” She headed out the door, letting it close behind her.
And still, no one said a word for a long time. Jake just kept staring up at the screen, then back to the others, then to the screen. Sixty-grand could do a lot for him. Even if they only ended up with one season, that was…well, life-changing. Not enough to retire on, obviously. But with nothing but a high school diploma and a failed VideoHead channel behind him, Jake wasn’t exactly in high demand for good work. In part because of the channel. They’d fixed up Pine Point enough that demand for a carpenter plummeted, and he didn’t have the money to move somewhere with better work.
“You’re all going to stare slack-jawed at the TV?” Bunny shook her head. “I’ll say it now: I’m in. I could put that money to good use.”
“That’s before taxes.” Ozzy drummed his fingers on the table, still looking at the screen. “But back of the napkin math, I think taxes would only be about ten-grand.”
“Probably five if you handle your deductions the right way.” In a shock, Evander and Ozzy weren’t even fighting, just actually communicating.Miracles do exist.
Bunny tutted her tongue a few times. “I know we need everyone on board for this. So, shouldn’t we just vote and get it out of the way?”
“Hard to turn down for me,” said Ozzy.
Jake nodded. “Yeah. I know we axed the channel for a lot of reasons. But I don’t think I can walk away from this kind of offer.”
“Same,” said Mason, and Evander and Aras both nodded.
All eyes turned toward Robinson. He’d been almost silent the entire time, and Jake didn’t want to pressure him…well, not much. Out of everyone, Robinson probably made the most money. Ozzy’s family was rich, but he’d already agreed to it. Robinson…well, plumbers got good paychecks for a reason.
