Adaku clapped excitedly. “That’s actually cute!”
“Sure, why not.”
“It is! Who’s the other narrator?”
“The alpha male of Romance. At least according to the audience at the panel.” She said his name as if heralding the arrival of a king: “Sir Brock McNight!”
Adaku jumped up. “What?!” she screeched.
Sewanee looked startled. “Not you, too!”
“Swan! Like, ninety percent of my library is Brock McNight.” She heard herself. “And you, of course.”
Sewanee poured more wine, smirked. “But is his guy voice as good as mine?”
Adaku screeched again. “You’ve never heard his voice?!”
“You know I don’t listen to audiobooks. Give me your glass?”
Adaku obliged and then fished her phone out of her back pocket. “I am about to introduce you to the man, the myth, the legend, the voice of my ever-loving dreams, Brock-talk-me-dirty-McNight.”
Sewanee chuckled as Adaku perched on the edge of her chair and set her phone faceup on the folding table. Sewanee looked down to see a book cover that was nothing but a man’s glistening bare torso. “Billionaire” was in the title.
As the audiobook began, Adaku took her glass back and watched Sewanee’s face intently, a kid who’d just handed her mom a new drawing.
The story opened like so many. Man sees woman standing across a room and catalogues her “assets.” She had narrated so many of these opening scenes that for a moment she was distracted by the repetitiveness. But then. The voice hit.
By the time it had carved through the first paragraph, her eyes flicked to Adaku, who was still staring at her. Thirty seconds later, she’d gone slack-jawed and Adaku barely contained her smug mirth. Five minutes later, when the co-narrator started her section, when the voice was no longer present, Sewanee felt tantalizingly unfulfilled. It was a bite of chocolate when she needed the whole bar.
Yes, he had a great voice. Low, of course, and resonant, obviously, and the perfect balance of growl and breath. She couldn’t imagine him narrating anything other than Romance; he’d be too distracting.
But as he described his body’s reaction to seeing this woman, the way her mere existence affected him, he made the listener want to be her. Heat blasted from his vocal furnace.
It was Sewanee who broke the silence. “Who is this guy?”
Adaku pushed her knee. “Right!? You ever heard anyone like–”
“No. No. No, he’s . . . no.”
Adaku cackled and Sewanee could tell she liked seeing her thrown. “See? Lean in, Swan, I’m telling you, this is some hot shit!”
At that moment, Sewanee’s phone dinged.
She deflated slightly and picked it up. “Sorry, but I’m waiting for an e-mail from Seasons’ billing depar–”
Her gasp had Adaku spinning toward her. “What? Is it BlahBlah?”
“No.” Sewanee looked up. “It’s Brock McNight.”
Part 3
We work in the dark. We do what we can. We give what we have. Our doubt is our passion. Our passion is our task. The rest is the madness of art.
–Henry James
I don’t know where my ideas come from, but you know where they come to? My desk. And if I’m not there to greet them, they leave. Ass in the chair. Ass in the chair. That’s art.
–June French in Cosmopolitan
Chapter Nine
“Epistolary”
From: Brock McNight
To: Westholme, Sarah
Date: December 6, 5:24 PM
Subject: CASANOVA, LLC–and hello!
Hi Sarah,
Brock McNight here. Got your email address from Jason. Thought I’d give you a shout before we give this thing legs.
I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of working together before （thousand apologies if I’m wrong!）， but I’m a big fan of your work in June’s Shadow Walkers series.
Feel free to reach out once you’ve read the first few episodes. Any pronunciations/character voices to discuss, let me know.
This’ll be fun,
Brock
From: Westholme, Sarah
To: Brock McNight
Date: December 7, 8:41 AM
Subject: RE: CASANOVA, LLC–and hello!
Thank you so much, Brock. I’m a fan of yours, as well.
I’ll dig in to the first few episodes and will definitely reach out with questions. Warning: I tend to have a lot of questions!
Looking forward to doing this.
Best,
Sarah
From: Westholme, Sarah
To: Brock McNight
Date: December 13, 3:16 PM