The Arrangement

Chapter 19

Fresh off the exhilarating premiere taping of "Live with Jarlena," Marlena entered her office, still giving camera-ready glamour. The unscripted show had flowed seamlessly, leaving her with an unprecedented creative high. Shedding her purple Akris jacket, she tossed it casually onto the plush, overstuffed sofa that perfectly embodied her signature style. Then, she dropped her notes onto the coffee table, already graced by a stack of her New York Times bestsellers.

She sat in the cozy leather chair behind her white desk, leaning back and releasing a huge sigh like a weight had been lifted. Kippie sat across from her with his yellow forever-open notebook, pen in hand prepared to draft the blueprints for their next successful chapter.

Marlena spun in her chair, taking in her surroundings, a sign of satisfaction tugged at her lips. Her studio office had been staged as a calm retreat, with relaxing light blues and floral accents to feel like home. Kippie had followed her decoration notes to the letter, filling the space with recycled furniture and her favorite armchairs custom-sized for a man or woman.

"That was fabulous! I've had the privilege of watching you work, but watching you host a show gives an entirely new energy," said Kippie.

"It certainly was a rush," replied Marlena, feeling an accomplished relief. "And to think I almost passed on this opportunity."

Kippie was glad that she hadn't. He loved this part of his job, fascinated by all of the moving mechanical parts of Hollywood. He was just a small cog in a wheel, but he was still part of the machine.

"I'm glad you accepted the offer. You seem so at home here, you were hilarious, so in control, and quick on your feet."

"Ricky Gervais as a guest doesn't give you very many other options," she replied wryly.

"He was a little off the chain, wasn't he?" Kippie winced. "But you handled his comments like a pro. You didn't take him too seriously and kept the segment on track."

That she had. Known for his dry wit and dark humor, Ricky pushed the envelope for the entire show, questioning the chemistry between John and Marlena. Pulling zero punches, he mentioned a detection of sexual tension between them, which John and Marlena vehemently denied, countering that they were colleagues as well as good friends who simply got each other. They also mentioned that they were happily married to other people. Ricky was irreverent, claiming that it didn't stop Brad and Angelina.

"Your names are blended for crying out loud. Just get it over with!" he'd quipped.

"Thank you. John was superb at getting the interview back on track."

And just then John appeared in the doorway, dressed in a navy suit that brought out the cerulean in his eyes. Marlena's eyes lit up at the sight of him, her hazel depths glimmering with glee.

"Hey, Evs," said John.

"Hey, Mr. Black."

With Kippie present, she tried to dismiss the thrill that shot through her at the sight of him - that undeniable spark they playfully danced around.

"Hello, Kippie," added John, unable to take his eyes off Marlena. "Congratulations on a great show," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "You really nailed it out there with Gervais."

Marlena's cheeks flushed, delighted by the compliment but equally flustered by his presence.

"Thanks, but let's be honest. Ricky could have thrown me a few softballs," she quipped. "He was relentless, wasn't he?"

John chuckled, leaning against the doorframe with a casual grace that Marlena found infuriatingly attractive. "I'd say you held your own quite well, considering."