Perched on the corner of my desk, Melanie sat stirring soy creamer and organic sugar into her coffee while she listened to me tell her about my weekend. Empty wrappers littered the area around her makeshift seat and she watched me over the rim of her mug with amusement twinkling in her eyes.
“This is so cute,” she said, placing a hand over her heart and sighing. “Four months ago you were a wide-eyed intern and now you’re sneaking around and dating our clients like one of the big guys down the hall.”
“Shut up,” I mumbled, getting up to close my office’s door. Nearly all of the full-time staff had gone out for lunch to celebrate the company president’s birthday but there was no point in risking a rumor being spread in case someone overheard us talking. “And I’m not dating anyone.”
“In that case, pick me up at seven. Tulips are my favorite flower and I hate garlic.”
“Sometimes it’s really hard for me to tell if you’re joking or not,” I said and Melanie tilted her head so that neatly styled curls tumbled across her shoulder.
“Well, then you should probably just assume the worst.” She batted her eyelashes before bursting into a fit of giggles. “Oh, God, you look terrified. I’m just kidding, Parker, what’s wrong with you?”
I sat down in my chair again and swiveled back and forth, staring up at the ceiling. “Sorry. I told you I haven’t been sleeping. My brain is…” I lifted my index finger next to my temple and twirled it in fast circles. “Completely out the window.”
“Well, hurry up and get it together; you’re throwing off our dynamic.”
“Believe me, I’m trying,” I said and rubbed my eyes with the heel of my palm. “Help me out, Mel.”
“With what?”
“Everything.” I motioned to the stacks of headshots that Michael had handed me to file and toss, accordingly. The project itself wouldn’t have been so bad if the intern before me had known what ‘alphabetical order’ meant when creating the physical filing system. “I don’t want to do any of this anymore.”
“Then you should hurry up and finish your film school application so that maybe when you graduate, you won’t have to. Or did you change your mind and decide to stick with engineering?”
I groaned. I couldn’t decide what was worse--the fact that Sophie was the leading cause of my procrastination or that Melanie had appointed herself as my drill sergeant. “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe.”
“Maybe what?”
“Maybe I should just become an engineer. I have two years to get my grades up and then I can move back to Boston and start a firm with my dad.” I paused, considering the idea for a moment. “It wouldn’t be terrible.”
Melanie shook her head furiously until full curls became looser waves. “You’d be miserable.”
“How do you know?” I asked, studying her through one eye and closing the other. “Maybe solving Axiomatic design matrices is my true calling.”
“Oh my God, get over yourself.”
“Thanks for caring about my future.”
“I do care and that’s why you obviously need some tough love right now.” She leaned forward and clapped her hands on my shoulders. I raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest, noting the distinct difference in how her touch made me feel compared to Sophie’s.
Melanie continued, “I totally get that you’re stressed right now and I can’t blame you—just listening to everything you’ve told me makes me feel like I need a drink.”
“Really? Happy hour at Brew Co. starts at four.”
“But don’t be stupid and give up on something that you want just because it’s the easy way out. Everyone in the industry has to work a job they hate at least once but don’t give them a reason to stick you in the mailroom forever.”
“I never said that I wouldn’t apply to the program, I’m just thinking about my alternatives,” I said, rolling my seat far enough backwards that I was out of her grasp.
“Worry about alternatives if you don’t get in.”
“Geez, alright, Mom.”
“Good.” Melanie sat back looking pleased with herself. “As for Sophie--”
“What about her?” I looked down at my shoes and bent to brush off a line of dust stuck to the leather.
“The same advice applies.”
“I’m not following.”
Melanie shook her head and got to her feet. She scooped her trash into the garbage bin beneath my desk before padding barefoot to the corner of the room where she’d left her heels. “Why are you ignoring the obvious fact that she likes you?”
“There’s nothing to ignore.”
“Yeah, okay. Does it scare you because she’s famous?”
“No, we’re just friends, that’s all.”
“We are friends, Parker,” Melanie said pointing her finger between us. “I’m sure you know the difference.”
“Wow, friend-zoned before I could even take you to dinner tonight. I’m crushed, Mel.”
“My roommate’s seeing a shrink on Melrose. I can get you her number if you need to talk to someone about it.”
Melanie fastened the straps of her shoes around her ankles and drew herself up to her new height, asking in a singsong, “So do you like her?”
I eyed her warily. I was beginning to feel the same way that I always did when girls ambushed me with questions about my love life, namely, equal parts uncomfortable and annoyed. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“You’re just a mountain of indecision today, aren’t you? Maybe you’ll become an engineer, maybe you like Sophie—you can tell me, you know. I’m not going to, like, rat you out to HR if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I wiggled the mouse of my computer and watched the screen flicker to life. “If I’m worried about anything, it’s the fact that lunch is over and you’re still back here.” I keyed my employee credentials into the login screen and punched into the electronic time clock. “And I think I hear the phone at the front ringing.”
Rolling her eyes, Melanie slapped the back of my head with her palm and moved to the door, tugging at the hem of her skirt as she went. With one hand on the knob and the other on her hip, she turned to scowl at me. “What goes on in your head?”
Shrugging, I began sorting through my task alerts. “A lot of white noise, for the most part.”
Melanie opened the door and crashed headlong into Michael who stood with his hand raised as if he’d been about to knock. He looked startled and Melanie mumbled an apology before hurrying off, the sound of her heels against the tile fading into a dull echo. Michael stared after her for a moment before coming into my office and leaning on the doorjamb.
“What’s going on?” I asked, glancing up from my computer’s monitor.
Rather than taking the cracked leather chair propped against the wall, Michael strode over to my desk and sat down on the same corner that Melanie had occupied moments before. “You two always eat lunch together, don’t you?”
“Uh, more or less.”
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” Michael said. He plucked a pen from the mesh tray I stored them in and balanced it between his fingers. “Just wondering if you wouldn’t mind spending tomorrow’s lunch hour away from your lovely work wife.”
“My what?”
“It’s just an expression. You in for tomorrow, though?”
“Yeah, I guess. Where are we going?”
“Global Studios.” Michael uncapped the pen and began doodling on a notepad beside him. “I’m meeting with the producers of Kelly’s film and I figured you could come along and sit in, if you’re interested.”
“Of course,” I said quickly, shifting so that the piles of untouched work covering my desk didn’t seem quite as obvious. “That’d be great. Thanks, man.”
“Yeah, well.” Michael colored in one of the circles that he’d drawn, dragging his pen back and forth in tight lines until the paper ripped. He tore off the sheet and tossed it into the garbage before starting on a new batch of drawings. “There’s actually another reason why I want you there.”
I grimaced; of course there was. “Which is?”
“I got an email this morning from a friend over at Creative Talent Agency. Apparently the rumor mill is churning about who the producers want to cast as the male lead in the film.” He chuckled and drew a detailed stick figure with an anvil falling onto its head. “In total, it’s, uh, down to five or six guys, I think, and seven other girls for Sophie’s role.”
“Seven?” I repeated in disbelief. “I thought Kelly said--”
“What, that he liked her? Yeah, he probably does. That doesn’t mean that he’s going to hedge all of his bets on a girl the studio can’t stand.” Michael reached over and grabbed a red pen to fill in the blood spatter coming from his stick victim’s cranial wound. “I’m meeting with the PR department in a minute to put together a solid pitch for Sophie but I thought I’d stop by and ask you about lunch first.”
“I’m in, but what’s the other reason you want me to go?” I asked, watching while he colored his gory scene with glee. I wondered what the shrink Melanie’s roommate was seeing would say about that.
“Oh.” Michael frowned. It looked like he was either debating whether or not to tell me or trying to decide where he could add more carnage to his twisted scene. “Actually, it’s not a big deal. I thought Sophie should have someone there to support her, that’s all.”
“Really?” I asked, skeptical that he would’ve brought it up if that were all he wanted me for.
“Yeah. Hey, this drawing kind of looks like Scott, huh?” He held the note pad in front of my face and I stared at it, glad I didn’t share his outlook on life.
“Uh, not really.”
“I’m going to send him a picture,” Michael said, chortling while he pulled out his phone and snapped a photo. He got to his feet and headed for the hallway, looking up from his cell's screen to add, “You can keep the original. Hang it on your wall or something.”
“Great, so HR will think I’m the nut case,” I muttered, tearing off the sheet and adding it to the mound of waste in my trashcan.
If Michael heard my jab, he ignored it in favor of flashing me a thumb’s up on his way out. “Wish me luck. It’s time to go figure out Sophie’s comeback angle.”
I listened to him whistle while he strolled down to the in-house PR team’s wing of the suite and wondered what he was hiding from me. Whatever it was, I guessed it must’ve been good for him to sound as chipper as he did. Then again, I knew better than anyone that the things that made Michael happy rarely had the same effect on the people around him.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sophie’s face broke into a wide smile when she saw Michael and me walking up to her inside Global Studios' lobby the next day. She gave a small wave before getting up from the bench that she was sitting on and hurrying towards us.
“What are you doing here?” She reached out to touch the cufflinks I’d fastened to my sleeves. “Full suit and everything, huh?”
I didn’t have to meet Michael’s stare to know that he was watching this exchange with raised eyebrows and more interest than I would’ve liked. I took a step backwards and said, “Hey, Sophie.”
Folding her arms over her chest, Sophie frowned and turned to Michael. “So what’s the plan? You’re going to talk to the producers while I’m shooting the chemistry tests, right?”
“Yup,” Michael said, motioning to his briefcase. “All the reasons why they’d ever want to cast you are inside here.”
“Because it has nothing to do with whether or not I can act,” Sophie retorted, rolling her eyes.
“You’re right, it doesn’t.” Michael offered Sophie a tight smile and I stuffed my hands inside my pockets, crossing my fingers that they wouldn’t kill each other in view of witnesses.
Sophie sighed and brushed a golden strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. After spending all of Sunday with her in a wig, I had to admit that although she made a fun brunette, I still preferred her as a blonde. “Whatever, Michael,” she said, fiddling with the clasp on her purse and pulling out a tube of lip balm. I watched her apply the subtle pink sheen until she met my gaze and grinned, prompting me to look away. “How many guys did you say are going to be reading with me?”
Michael cleared his throat. “Last I heard, around five from CTA and maybe one or two from another agency.”
Wrinkling her nose, Sophie added another coat of moisturizer to her lips before tucking her chap stick back into her bag. “Gross.”
“What is?” I asked. She and Michael exchanged glances.
“Nothing, my lips are just chapped,” Sophie said at the same time that Michael opened his mouth to reply.
“If we end early, do you mind if we sit in?” Michael snickered and Sophie glared at him with unconcealed resentment.
“Only if it makes the producers happy.” Turning on her heel, she stalked over to the nearest elevator and joined the crowd already waiting for its doors to open.
Michael and I followed, fixing our ties and smoothing down our hair while we silently psyched ourselves up for the countdown to our meeting. When the elevator chimed, we filed into the cabin and stood like packed sardines, shifting and squeezing until the last Global Studios employee had made his way inside. Pressed closely against Sophie’s shoulder, I stared ahead and tried to ignore how warm her hand felt when it brushed against my mine.
To my surprise, Sam was still the first person to greet us when we walked into Kelly's reception area on the tenth floor. “Hello, Parker,” she said after Michael handed her his business card. “How’ve you been?”
I glanced at Michael while he put his phone on silent. “Doing well, thanks. Haven't escaped desk duty yet?”
Sam shrugged. “It’s started to grow on me, really. I’m even thinking of putting in some plants to brighten things up a bit.” She smiled at Sophie and asked, “Ready?”
Nodding, Sophie followed Sam to the casting room and disappeared inside, glancing backwards at me before the petite woman shut the solid oak door behind her. “And now for you two,” Sam said. “You’ll actually be down the hall. Too many producers on this one, we couldn’t fit enough chairs in Kelly’s office.”
She beckoned us towards a well-lit conference room at the end of the corridor where eight neatly dressed men sat around a long table. They looked up when we walked in and a cool sweat started at the base of my neck under their appraising stare. Michael led the introductions, walking around the room and trading handshakes for business cards with ease. He was in his element; meanwhile, I stumbled after him, mumbling greetings and forgetting my name as I went down the line.
When we sat down, a thin man with bushy, white eyebrows wasted no time in getting things started. “It’s nice to see you again, Michael, but I have to ask, what are we doing here?”
“Well, Paul, I wanted to come find out why you’re blackballing my client,” Michael replied with a smile that could’ve given dentures a cavity. An uncomfortable silence filled the room while the men exchanged furtive looks and shifted in their seats.
“No one’s blackballing her,” a solemn faced man said after a long pause. He drew his long fingers into a sharp steeple below his chin and scanned the room. “But I think it’s fair to say that we have concerns.”
“Great, let’s hear them.” Michael’s cheerful demeanor never wavered but I knew that under the surface he was waiting to strike—just like a snake.
“Alright,” said a man whose suspenders couldn’t constrain the fat spilling over his sides. “Let’s talk about the fact she hasn’t worked in almost two years now and don’t give me that bull about the cupcakes she’s promoting. I’m talking real jobs.”
I fought the urge to point out that it clearly looked like the cupcake campaign had worked on him, instead allowing Michael to continue his set up. “Okay, so, lack of consistent work. That’s a fair concern—unfounded but we can address that once I’ve heard everything. How about you?” Michael pointed at a man whose disinterest became apparent when he scrambled to hide his cell phone.
“Sorry, uh.” The man looked flustered at having been caught and he frowned. “Look, we’ve got mixed feelings towards her as a whole but, personally, I like her. I think Kelly’s right about her so you don’t need to convince me.”
A frenzied wave of murmurs filled the quiet room and the fat producer flexed his sausage fingers. “How can you sit there and try to justify us passing over one of the bigger names in the running, Conrad? If I wanted to throw money out the window, I’d write a check to the IRS, not fund a movie with some washed up child star.”
“Then maybe you should pull out and back a few more flops instead,” the texter argued. “I mean, hell, we all passed on that stupid show of hers, too, and it’s Brighton Network’s biggest syndicated hit now. We all said the premise was dumb, the writers were hacks, and yet, people are still buying full-series DVD packs how many years after it ended? Get your head out of the sand and see that people like her.”
“Regardless of her talent, I think the bigger problem here is her image.” I turned to see who had chimed in and saw the voice belonged to a regally poised man with a heavy southern accent. He frowned and removed his glasses to stare pointedly at Michael. “I wouldn’t want my daughters looking up to her, would you?” The other men, aside from Texter, shook their heads.
That was the last question asked before the room spiraled into a sparring match of fiery debate, with each side sustaining hits and landing verbal punches. I tried to keep up but found myself looking from the clock on the wall to the door, from the door to Michael’s unyielding smile, from his smile to the eyebrows attached to a mouth at the end of the table, again and again until I couldn’t take it anymore.
If this was what Michael did everyday, no wonder he was never sober after work—an hour of this, and I was contemplating throwing in the towel and taking up residence under a bridge with a handle of gin and a banjo. I studied Michael from the corner of my eye and couldn’t help but feel a rekindled respect for the guy. He may have been a pain in the ass but if these guys were the alternative, he deserved nothing less than Hollywood sainthood.
“Isn’t it true that in the sixteen years she’s been active, nearly every film that Sophie’s starred in has brought in at least twice the budget in box office sales? Not to mention the revenue from merchandise, licensing royalties, DVDs…” Michael passed around a chart whose data reflected the same. “Now, I play the stock market about as often as I play the slots but I think it’s apparent she’s a pretty safe investment--”
The door to the room swung open with a loud bang and we all jumped, narrowly avoiding whiplash as we spun to gawk at the intruder. Sam smiled sheepishly and sidled over to my chair. “Sorry to bother you all but Kelly needs some help moving the lights. Do you mind?”
Happy to get out of the room, I nodded and followed her into the hallway. She closed the door and I realized the panic written on her face. “What’s wrong?” I asked, lowering my voice so that the men inside wouldn’t hear.
Sam shook her head. “Sophie ran out of a screen test--”
“What? Why?”
Sam raised her hands in surrender. “She just said she couldn’t do it and to let you know she’s going home.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, why would she do that?”
Sam’s face darkened and I could tell there was more to the story than she was telling me. “Maybe you should talk to her.”
“Where’d she go?” I scanned the hallway, though I doubted I'd find her anywhere on the floor.
“Last I saw, she was getting on the elevator.”
“Thanks,” I called over my shoulder and broke into a dash towards the staircase.
I took the stairs three at a time, wondering how spies in movies made running in dress shoes look so easy. Five flights of stairs were all it took for my suit to become sticky with sweat but even after skidding on a metal landing and nearly falling to my death, I knew I was moving faster than the jam packed elevators ever could.
Strange looks greeted me when I burst out from the stairwell and spun in a circle to survey the crowded lobby. Bottled blondes and dirty blondes teemed around me in droves but, as always, the blonde I needed was nowhere in sight. I looked around again before pushing through the main entrance doors to check the courtyard.
She was halfway to the visitor’s parking structure by the time I jogged up to her and grabbed her hand, waiting for her to turn and face me.
“What are you doing?” I asked, stopping myself from instinctively reaching up and brushing away the tears gathered on her cheeks.
“I’m going home.” Sophie wiped her eyes briskly and met my gaze with steady defiance.
“Did something happen--”
“Michael happened!” she cried, shaking her head furiously. “Oh my God, I hate him so much.”
“Soph--”
“No, Parker, I don’t care. I hate him.”
“Even though he’s upstairs fighting for you to get this role? Why are you freaking out right now?”
“Because he knew.”
“Knew what? What are you even talking about?”
“He knew which guys were coming from Creative Talent and he didn’t tell me--”
“Which guys? Sophie, what is wrong with you?”
“I won’t work with him. Not again.”
“Michael?”
“No.” She pointed at someone behind me. “Him.”
I turned around and confusion gave way to understanding—understanding and a sharp pang of jealousy.
The day Sophie ripped up her client intake sheet and served it to me as a side dish, I was shocked when Michael told me not to worry about it. Although relieved, I couldn’t stop thinking about her reaction to the questions I’d asked and by the time I got home that evening, curiosity compelled me to type, “Who has Sophie Winters dated,” into my internet browser’s search bar.
A few names popped up as being speculated flings but only one relationship had ever been officially confirmed. Driven by a voyeuristic need to know more, I spent nearly two hours scrolling through the archives of gossip sites and wondering what rock I’d been living under while Hollywood’s tabloid-proclaimed golden couple posed for vacation photos and attended premieres together across the globe.
From his surfer boy looks to his mile long résumé, until they broke up, Richard Callaway seemed like Sophie’s soul mate no matter how you sliced it. That fact had annoyed me back in October but to see him standing in front of me now was nothing short of an unwelcome reality check—a reality check that I didn’t want to deal with it and from the look on Sophie’s face, neither did she.
Staring past me, Richard gave Sophie a nervous smile and asked, “Can we talk?”
Sophie stiffened and I gave her fingers a squeeze, waiting to hear her answer.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A/N: As always, a huge thank you to everyone who's been reading and supporting. If you're confused as to where it's all going, I promise that everything will be clear in the end and I hope you stick around to see it. :) "Clarity" by Zedd is available for your listening pleasure on the side. To be completely honest, I just put it there because I'm going to see him tonight but I guess the song's applicable to the story, haha.
Dedicated to @Florallion: Thank you so much for reading and supporting my story; I'm so glad that we're becoming friends and I can't wait to get to know you better!