“Almost done there?” he asks, climbing to his feet. “Looks like we’re next up for inspection.”
I lift my gaze just enough to confirm Mac is winding down with the lighting group as I slide a battery into the first lavalier transmitter. It locks into place and I move down the line, ensuring all six mics have a battery pack. We only need three for today’s broadcast, but it’s always better to be prepared.
Just in case.
If I’ve learned anything in this class, it’s that things on set can get buggy, and I want Mac to see we’re ready to troubleshoot if needed.
“All set.” I wipe my palms on my thighs.
“What frequency should this be on?” Devin asks, picking up a transmitter.
“I didn’t realize there would be a pop quiz.” I flash him a playful smile. “If I’d known, I would have studied more.”
“Smartass.” He flicks my nose. “Lucky for you, I like my women sassy.”
“Your women?”
He rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“Yes, and lucky for you, my mouth is one of my best traits.”
“Don’t I know it.” He places the transmitter back on the cart and checks the next one. “These are on the same frequency.”
My heart stutters.
That’s not possible. I checked them. Didn’t I?
I grab the first mic, check the frequency and move to the next.
Ay, cabrón.
He’s right. It’s such a rookie mistake. Broadcasting 101. I quickly adjust the settings and continue down the line.
“Why the hell would anyone set them to the same frequency?” It makes no sense. Each mic needs to be on a separate frequency to pick up the wearer and avoid interference.
Devin stares over my shoulder, probably keeping an eye on Mac. “For the same reason all the cords are tangled.”
“People are assholes.” I reset the last transmitter and place it back on the cart. “Thanks. That was a good catch.”
One I should have made.
One I would have made if I’d been focused on my job instead of bantering with Devin.
“No worries.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “It could’ve happened to anyone.”
“True.”False. “But you didn’t have to point it out. You could’ve let me flounder in front of Mac.”
Something dark flashes in his eyes. “I wouldn’t do that to you. You’re my partner.”
I purse my lips, choosing my next words carefully. “I’m also your competition for the internship.”
“Yeah, and if I get it, which I’m pretty sure I will,” he says, grinning, “I want to do it on my own merit. Not because I was a dick and screwed over my partner.”
He’s baiting me. I know it right down to my toes, but I will not fall for it.
Not today.
I match his smile. “So you’re playing the academic integrity card?”
