His Best Friend

John spent Monday morning getting brought up to speed on the current working projects at Buffalo Films, his new employer. He’d toured the facility when he’d interviewed, but Kurt Kenyon, who was the owner’s right-hand man and in effect managed the day-to-day operation of the company, gave him a more in-depth tour and introduced him to all the employees who were working in-house that day.

Soon John’s head was swimming with names. Buffalo had about sixty employees, and at least forty of them were there that morning. John knew it would take a while before he could put names to faces, but he made an effort to at least retain the names of the art director and the acquisitions director.

After the tour, Kurt showed John into a small office that contained a no-nonsense metal desk, a four-drawer filing cabinet, a computer and printer, and two chairs—one behind the desk, one off to the side.

“Right now, this’ll be your office,” Kurt said. “When a bigger one becomes available, we’ll move you.”

“This is fine,” John said. He didn’t expect to be in his office much anyway.

Kurt nodded. “Ready to dive in?”

“More than ready.”

“Good. I’ve got a special project for you. In fact, the only reason we got the project was because these people heard you were coming on board.”

John was pleased to know his reputation had preceded him. “Who is it?”

“The Fairchild Cancer Center. They’ve contracted for a promo video with the proviso that you’ll direct.”

“No kidding? But I thought they had their own media department.”

“They’re trying to cut costs and have decided the media department is going. Guess it’ll be cheaper for them to contract out.”

“What kind of promo video?”

“They’re working on an experimental treatment for certain types of cancer and they want us to follow one of the patients who’s participating. A start-to-finish kind of thing.”

“How’re they planning to use the promotion?”

“It’ll be sent to hospitals and cancer specialists around the world as well as shown on various health channels.”

“Budget?”

Kurt named a figure.

John’s eyes widened. At least they seemed willing to spend enough to put out a high-quality product.

“Richard Philbin, their public relations manager, wants to meet with you this afternoon.”

“How much of a crew can I have?”

“A videographer—I’m thinking Paul, you met him earlier, he’s the one with the shaved head, a PA—Laurie’s the best one we’ve got, and an audio tech—probably Doug. They’re a good crew. They’ve worked on several projects together. You saw one of them. That Larrimer spot? You know, the dancers?”

John nodded, pleased he’d have a production assistant. That would take a whole load of crap off his shoulders.

“Okay. Here’s Philbin’s number.” Kurt handed John a business card. “Give him a call. We’ll either talk today after you’ve met with him or tomorrow morning if your meeting runs late. By the way, Susan ordered some business cards for you. We should have them tomorrow.”

John didn’t reach Richard Philbin on the first try and had to leave a message. But Philbin returned his call within the hour and they agreed to meet at three that afternoon in Philbin’s office.

Since John hadn’t anticipated a client meeting, he hadn’t dressed for one that morning. So at noon, instead of going out for Thai food with some of the guys, he headed for Philip’s town house where he changed into black dress slacks, a black shirt and gray tie—his official look.

John arrived at Fairchild fifteen minutes before he was due. Luckily, Philbin’s earlier appointment finished ahead of time, so John only had to wait ten minutes before being ushered into Philbin’s nicely furnished tenth-floor office in the middle of the medical center area.

Philbin turned out to be a handsome gray-haired man of about fifty. He gave John a quick once-over and seemed to approve. After handshakes and an offer of coffee or a Coke, Philbin got right down to business. “What I’m looking for,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “is a video that seems more human interest than self-serving promotion. You know, the kind of thing Dateline or 60 Minutes would do.” He smiled. “Is that possible?”