Dirty Laundry (Camren G!P)

Chapter 2

After three hours and as many lattes at a Starbucks near the office, I’m not closer to having the first clue as to how to get an interview with Lauren Jauregui. I do some internet research and find out who manages her. Larry Rudolph is Lauren’s manager. I know I’ve heard that name before so I do more searching and find that Larry also manages a few other up and comers in Hollywood.

Getting a hold of Larry himself will most likely be impossible. My call would be passed to some assistant with an attitude that would just throw me in voicemail or flat out deny my requests for an interview. With a little more searching and spending another hour sifting through Tumblr posts I finally hit pay dirt.

Lauren Jauregui's home address.

She recently purchased a house in West Hollywood. If I hurry up I might make it there before three. Going straight to her might be a huge mistake but I’m fucked if I don’t.

I write down her address, close my laptop and gather up my stuff to leave. The overdose of caffeine in my system right now is probably doing nothing to help my jitters, but I’m just going to have to deal with it and hope she thinks a shaky reporter is charming and cute. At least I’m dressed somewhat nicely.

Traffic is a bitch, as it always is. My left foot taps against the floorboard the whole way to her house. When I pull up in front of the little white house, I take a deep breath. This is like a normal neighborhood and not a gated community. Then again, she’s not famous enough yet to own some ridiculous estate. That could all change if she wins his Oscar, though.

I slick on a fresh coat of lip gloss and pop a Tic-Tac to get rid of my coffee breath. I grab my laptop bag and my purse, say a quick prayer and then force myself to get out of the car. The only rationale I have for bothering this woman at home is that I’m trying to save my own ass. If she says no, I can use this month to start looking for a new job. Hell, maybe The Sun will hire me.

I make my way to the door and take another deep breath before ringing the bell.

This is crazy. This is crazy. This is crazy.

It takes a minute or so before Lauren Jauregui herself answers the door. She looks casual in a pair of worn jeans and a loose white T-shirt. She’s not wearing shoes or socks and she has a cup of coffee in her hand.

“Hi,” she smiles as she looks down at my bag. “Oh, did Larry send you? I keep telling him I don’t need an assistant,” she says shaking his head. “You might as well come in.”

I open my mouth to correct her and then realize that I have just been handed a gift on a silver platter. I would be a fucking idiot to correct her mistake. I’ve essentially been a personal assistant to Perez for the last three years. I can do that for Lauren as well. Shit! She’s going to want to see a resume! I wonder if I can stall her long enough to type a dummy one up really quick.

“Thank you for seeing me,” I say as I step inside the house.

It’s a nice place. Light hardwood floors, new furniture with clean lines. Pops of teal against the ivory sofas and chairs. Lots of natural light and glass table tops. She’s got good taste. I’m sure the place was professionally decorated but it’s not over the top. I like it.

“I don’t really have a choice, now do I?” she chuckles. “I’m done arguing with Larry about it. Are you thirsty?”