“Sure Bette. You’ll be the first person we call.” Shane assured her friend.

“Great, thanks guys, see you soon.” With that, Bette turned on her heel and headed out the door. As she walked to her Cadillac CTS-V, she ran through the list of items in her head that she needed to take care of now that the show at the Roxy was a no-go. Fuck, we’re screwed, she panicked.

Disarming the alarm, she slipped behind the wheel of her shiny sports car and waited for the digital sound notifying her that her car had connected to her iPhone X via Bluetooth. “Call Phyllis,” she commanded into the car’s mic.

She pulled out of the recording studio driveway and drove west on Sunset Boulevard. On the third ring, the other line was picked up.

“Bette, you taking the rest of the day off or will you actually be attending this afternoon’s creativity assembly?” Phyllis Kroll sounded irritated with her lackadaisical employee.

Bette rolled her eyes at the use of the term “creativity assembly,” which was merely a euphemism for “staff meeting.”

“Phyllis, I apologize for my tardiness but I lost track of time down at the recording studio and am on my way now. I was actually headed to the Planet first and wondered if you wanted one of those organic peppermint teas you love so much?” Phyllis could tell Bette was smiling as she asked.

A small smile crept up onto Phyllis’ face as she cursed Bette’s charming ability to make her temporarily shelve her own perturbed demeanor.

“That’s so sweet of you to offer, thank you. Leonard will probably want a pomegranate blueberry as well, to take his mind off of firing you.”

“You got it Phyllis, I’ll be there shortly.” Bette clicked the hang-up button on her steering wheel before giving Phyllis an opportunity to respond.

Shaking her head, she turned left at Vine to get to Santa Monica Boulevard. Even though it was out of the way, she knew she could call Marina, the owner of the Planet, to phone in her order so that it would be ready for pick up.

Bette was the best advertising executive employed at Kroll Design Group for four years now. Her ability to sell the ad ideas and campaigns to their clientele was unmatched. She had an eye for detail and a no-nonsense business acumen which enabled the firm to expand its services from the dinosaur media of print ads and television and radio spots to digital content, web design & development and logo design branding.

It was undeniable that part of her charm and success was due in large part to her stunning beauty. Long, soft, curly brown locks framed a gorgeous facial structure with high cheekbones, distinct jawline, and enchanting dark brown eyes to match. Behind the striking exterior was an Ivy League polished intellect which contributed to the other half of her professional accomplishments.

Bette was the company’s liaison to its top five biggest clients which boasted nearly 75% of KDG’s gross profits. Each of the five clients’ marketing directors and social media managers only wanted to deal exclusively with Bette on any campaign which made for long hours in office, but big quarterly bonuses every time. Taking all of this into consideration, Bette was irritated that her extra long lunches were of concern to either Phyllis or her husband Leonard, the owners and Chief Executive and Financial Officers for the company. It was yet another aspect of big corporate bullshit that Bette loathed.

“Fuck it,” she muttered to herself. Clicking her steering wheel again, she commanded it to “Call the Planet.”