Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“You said yourself she did the best read,” I said to the producer, snapping my pen against my desk the way I only did when I was this close to biting someone’s head off. “I signed her myself. You think I waste my time on anyone who isn’t the cream of the crop?”
“She’s not pretty,” the man on the other end said bluntly. “She can act her ass off, but her face is still…” he paused, looking for a diplomatic way to put it. “Not pretty,” he finally repeated.
“Not pretty?” I spat, smacking my pen against the glass desktop so loud that Maureen turned around in her chair to look at me. I held up a hand, letting her know everything was fine, and lowered my voice. “I must have missed something in the script. What do her looks have to do with inspiring a worker’s revolution in early twentieth century America?”
“Everything in America has to do with looks,” he said drolly, unimpressed by my self-righteous anger. “Especially when it gets put on a billboard in Times Square.”
“You’re a fucking idiot if you don’t cast her, Pierre.”
I could practically hear his shrug over the phone. I tightened my grip on my pen. I had to find another angle, or he would cast a Kardashian in the role, and my client would be back to playing second fiddle in another rom com. I’d promised her better. I cleared my throat and relaxed my voice. “Let’s do this over lunch. When are you free?”
He sighed. “I don’t know. I’ll ask my assistant to get in touch with yours and set something up.”
“Something this week,” I specified. I wouldn’t put it past him to schedule something for next month, after the role had already been given to someone else and principal photography began.
“Something this week,” he agreed grudgingly. “But I—”
“Great.” I hung up the phone before he could attach any conditions, then I called Maureen. She picked up and swiveled around in her chair again to look at me through the glass. She had a hand resting on her very pregnant stomach, reminding me that I needed to get a temp in as soon as possible, especially after the false alarm the other day. “Get in touch with Pierre’s assistant today,” I ordered. “Get a lunch on the books as soon as you can. He’s trying to fuck over Sienna Birch for that factory fire movie.”
Maureen shook her head disapprovingly. She was as invested in our clients as I was. “I’m on it.”
I leaned back in my chair and stretched my arms over my head, adrenaline pumping through my veins. I could visualize Sienna in that role so clearly that I knew there was no other option. She would elevate an already great script, and the success would elevate her into strong character roles. Pierre wasn’t wrong about her looks. She’d never be the traditional leading lady, but she had talent to spare.
When my phone rang and I saw it was Maureen, I picked up eagerly. I expected her to tell me the lunch was on the books. To my surprise, she said, “Halley is on line one.”
I glanced at the clock. 11:15. If I remembered her schedule correctly, Halley should be leaving her morning class. “Hey Hals, what’s up?” I asked when Maureen connected us. “Why didn’t you call my cell?”
“I wanted to talk to Maureen first.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Oh yeah? What about?”
“Your schedule.” Halley all but hummed the words, making me instantly suspicious.
“What about my schedule, Hals?”
“I thought it would be nice if you took Lily to lunch if you were free. Which, by the way, you are.”
I glared at Maureen’s back, even though there was no way she could have known. “Why would I take Lily to lunch?” I asked, trying to keep annoyance out of my voice. The last thing I wanted to do was sit across from the woman I was trying not to think about, making bullshit conversation about fuck knows what. It wasn’t like we had anything in common other than Halley, and I sure as hell didn’t want to think about that.
But Halley was prepared for that question, and she launched into a five-minute diatribe about how Lily was her best friend, and she didn’t know a soul, and wouldn’t I want someone to take her to lunch if she were in Lily’s place?
Not someone like me, I thought.
“It’s a bad idea, Hals,” I said. “She needs to make friends with people here. Going to lunch with the boss looks like special treatment. Besides, she probably already has plans. Brand development is a friendly group.”
They were vipers, but it wasn’t my problem. Lily was only going to be with them for two months before her internship rotated to media rights.
“She doesn’t have plans,” Halley said so positively that my suspicion level jumped even higher.