Chapter 11

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Tuesday morning was a flurry of four, not two interviews like Harper had expected. Fortunately, Stan had made sure that she wasn't asked to comment on her mother's death. She wasn't ready to discuss that part of her life with the world yet. After the interviews, she spent the rest of the morning driving around Los Angeles in the back of a limousine with Mel, Stan, and Kris, her video director. They continually went over the upcoming video production until Harper allowed herself to daydream about South Dakota. It was serene there, she thought as she tried to block out the noise of the traffic and Stan and Kris arguing over the video. She wondered what Ben was doing as she glanced at her phone and noted the time. She also wondered how long it would be before his picture was all over the tabloids. She cringed and felt sick over it. It was one thing to have to endure the craziness herself but when innocent bystanders got caught up in it, it always made her feel horrible.

She casually nodded when Stan asked her something regarding the video. She had no idea what she was agreeing to and almost stopped to ask but decided to let it go. It was probably something trivial anyway. The group ate while in route then arrived in Malibu close to noon. They spent the remainder of the day filming.

The ride back to her Beverly Hills home that evening consisted of going over video clips from the day. A year ago she would have painstakingly gone over each clip trying to find just the right one, but not now. Life was different. She was different. Harper highlighted the last clip after barely watching it, pushed enter, and closed the laptop thankful to be finished and completely indifferent to how the video was going to look.

Wednesday, she had a meeting with Huston Scott, a producer she had worked with a few years ago. She and Stan waited patiently at a posh Bel Air restaurant. She ignored the whispers and glances from the other patrons while Stan irritably tapped his fingers on the table. Harper glanced around the room. Most of the people there were in the business themselves. That was one of the few advantages of being in LA.

"Listen to me, Harp," Stan began as the waiter brought them their drinks, "whatever you do you, don't, and I stress don't, commit to anything with Huston. We have a meeting in a couple weeks in Nashville with Les Mathis about a role he wants to pitch you. That one will work better for us and I guarantee it's more money."

Harper nodded. Les and Stan had known each other for years. Harper knew he trusted Les more than most other producers, especially more than Huston Scott.

"Well, well, how's my girl?" His short, curly blond hair and deep tan made him look like he could have just recently walked off the beach. Huston was a playboy and had tried many times, unsuccessfully, to persuade Harper to go out with him. He was known for dating his leading actresses and their relationships usually played out on the cover of the rags. How she had avoided that disaster was beyond her.

"How are you?" Harper asked as she stood and hugged him.

"You're late," Stan interjected rudely. He looked at his watch then glared at Huston. "You know our schedule is tight."

"Sorry, Stan. I got held up. You know how that happens." His wink was directed at Harper. Picking up his menu, he asked, "What are we having?"

"We've already ordered," Stan continued, "so let's hear what you have to say."

"Very well," Huston laid his menu on the table and turned toward Harper. "I start preproduction in two months. It's an action-adventure and has a leading cast. I'm willing to offer you upwards of nineteen mill if you sign with me today."

"We're not signing anything today," Stan intruded. "Let us look at the script and we'll get back with you in a month."

"A month?" Huston countered rudely. "I need to know now."

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