The rooftop was polished steel and silent glass. A view of the city wrapped around the private lounge, floor-to-ceiling windows reflecting the skyline like it was a set piece. Alecia didn’t bother looking at it. She sat across from two producers and a junior writer, all three of them dressed like they were trying to look like they weren’t trying too hard.

Her coffee sat untouched.

“So,” the woman said, folding her hands neatly, “we’re thrilled to have you involved. You’re ...