Young Adulting

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Young Adulting Page 6

by Christina Benjamin

I always lost my appetite when I was upset. Having to relive my on-screen romance with Elena yesterday hadn’t helped, but if I was honest, it was more than that. I’d been off all week. I guess the tiff between me and Isabelle had affected me more than I’d noticed. But now, with the prospect of giving her a second chance, I found myself famished. “It’s fine, Shari.”

  Shock pitched her voice higher than usual. “Really?”

  “Yes, let’s just swing by the coffee cart real fast.”

  “Okay. The golf cart is out front. I can have you there in two minutes.”

  True to her word, Shari got me to the coffee cart in a flash. If the girl could do her job half as efficiently as she cornered a golf cart, she’d be one heck of an assistant. I was still gripping the handrail as she screeched to a halt.

  I raised a dark eyebrow in her direction.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Did you race NASCAR before you took this job?”

  She laughed, waving me off like I hadn’t just been scared for my life. “What can I get ya?”

  I eyed the cart. The line was a mile long again. I was about to tell her nevermind when something caught my eyes. Or someone, rather. “A super juice and a protein box, please.”

  “Coming right up,” Shari said before scurrying away.

  But my eyes were locked solely on a familiar blonde bombshell standing in line. To be honest, she didn’t look quite the bombshell today, but there was something oddly appealing about that. Seeing Isabelle Ellis was in fact not the goddess she’d looked to be at the party last Friday made a strange feeling tug at my heart.

  Was I crushing on this girl?

  I could admit I liked seeing her off her pedestal. She seemed more attainable that way—not that I wanted more than a professional relationship with her, I reminded myself. But man, there was just something about her.

  Maybe it was that she’d told me off and, much as I’d hated it...I kind of admired her for that. Or maybe it was the way that simple navy pencil skirt hugged her curves.

  I shook my head trying to clear it as I observed Isabelle and the leggy brunette intern she waited in line with. The other girl looked like your typical Los Angelite—perfect hair, lacquered nails, designer clothes, sky high Manolos and a permanently bored expression.

  Isabelle looked downright pitiful next to her. She wore an ill-fitted white blouse, her long blonde hair pulled back into an unruly ponytail, but it wasn’t her off the rack fashion or hairstyle that made her look beneath her co-worker, it was her defeated expression.

  Isabelle’s shoulders curled inward as the bossy brunette continued on some sort of tirade about a messed up coffee order. “Seriously, Izzy. If you can’t even handle a coffee order on your own how do you think you’re ever going to make it in this town? I mean, it’s commendable that you’re even trying, but some dreams are just unattainable, you know?”

  A smug smile tugged at my lips as I waited for Isabelle to let this snob have it, but she didn’t. Instead she nodded and bit her lip, glancing at her phone for the millionth time like she was hoping to discover the cure to cancer there.

  Puzzled, I crossed my arms and studied the shrinking violet Isabelle had become. Why wasn’t she sticking up for herself? I knew she was only an intern, but was she really that low on the totem pole at the studio that she felt she should be treated so poorly? She was letting the bossy brunette walk all over her.

  Was this really the same girl who told me off at my father’s premiere? I hadn’t enjoyed Isabelle’s wrath, but I could begrudgingly respect it.

  Something was off. Maybe she’d gotten in trouble at work after her behavior at the party. Or…my heart faltered…could it be she was as devastated about the idea of not making my movie as I was?

  Without hesitation I picked up my phone and pulled up Isabelle’s last email. I let my fingers fly over the keys as I typed out a quick response.

  Okay, let’s talk.

  I held my breath as I watched Isabelle glance at her phone. A slow smile spread across her face, filling me with entirely too much satisfaction. But she couldn’t just leave it at that. No, she had to be adorable and give a secretive little fist pump at her side before turning to the brunette next to her and telling her off.

  “Taylor, you know what? You’re right.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes. In fact, I think you’re so fantastic that you can handle this coffee order all on your own. I have more important things to do.”

  Then she threw back her shoulders and stormed away, blonde ponytail bobbing victoriously as she marched back toward the offices on the other end of the lot.

  The whole scene filled my chest with warmth, warning me just how easy it would be to fall for a little spitfire like Isabelle Ellis.

  Chapter Six

  Izzy

  I nibbled on my thumbnail as I stared at my laptop screen waiting for Leo’s next email.

  It was official. I hated email.

  Leo’s name popped up in my inbox and I sat up straight with a little squeak of excitement that had Taylor glaring over at me from her cubicle.

  I ignored her. She’d been extra pissy with me ever since I’d given her sass during a coffee run last week.

  But whatever. I might have been the underdog in this battle of the interns, but I was so going to win.

  Leo and I had it in the bag.

  As I read over his latest email with his thoughts on the dialogue tweaks I’d suggested in the second scene, I had to fight this crazy urge to giggle.

  Gah! I was a grown woman in a professional environment, dang it. I did not giggle.

  I certainly did not develop crushes on my co-worker who I’d never even met in real life because that would just be pathetic.

  The fact that the highlight of my days were the emails I got from Leo was just a testament to how lame my social life had become since moving here. Thanks to my crazy work schedule and my lack of funds, my non-work life consisted of texting with Fallon about the guy she’d met at a frat party, horrifying Carolina by the amount of chips I could consume while we all watched the latest episode of The Bachelor, and this…emailing with Leo. Which technically was work, I supposed.

  But it didn’t feel like it. It felt exhilarating!

  I scrolled down impatiently to keep reading what he had to say. He’d loved my suggestions and wanted my thoughts about some new changes he’d added. He’d copied and pasted the section in question and…

  Brilliant.

  He was freakin’ brilliant!

  The changes he’d made tightened the scene and built up the tension. I gave my head a little shake as a sigh of admiration escaped.

  Okay, maybe the sigh was a little more like a swoon, but really...was it possible to fall in love with someone’s brain? If so, I was already a goner.

  “Uh oh, don’t tell me I’ve got competition,” Colin teased.

  I sat up with a jolt. “Sorry, what?”

  Colin laughed. He was leaning next to my desk and I immediately blushed wondering how long he’d been observing me. “You up for lunch later?” he asked.

  Tommy passed by and gave my shoulder a little tap with the stack of papers in his hand. “Come with us, we’re trying out that new taco place over on Garland that everyone is raving about.”

  “Oh, uh…” I looked up at Colin with an apologetic wince. “I’d love to, but I’ve got to get back to Leo about his latest changes.”

  Colin’s brows hitched up; his gaze was knowing. “My treat?”

  I dipped my head down with a laugh, hoping he couldn’t see yet another blush that was starting. It was bad enough that he always tried to pay for me on those rare occasions when I joined the others for lunch, but having everyone else hear that I was the intern charity case was just too humiliating. “Thanks,” I said. “But I really do have to work.”

  “All work and no play…” he teased as he headed toward the exit.

  Yeah, yeah. All work and no play. That was me. I turned back to the screen,
wishing the others would leave already so I could read the rest of Leo’s email in peace. Now that we’d been going back and forth multiple times a day—and sometimes even throughout the night—I’d come to know that the best was always at the end.

  He started with business but ended with some personal story that made me laugh or a funny little anecdote about something that had happened to him that day. He was still out of town on set for a new TV show. Seemed my screenwriter pal paid the bills as a production assistant so he had all sorts of hilarious stories about the gossip behind the cameras or the divas and egotistical jerks he had to cater to on-set.

  Speaking of…

  I know you think it’s nuts and I know you two didn’t exactly hit it off, but I’m telling you...I think he’d make an amazing Heath. What do you think?

  I pursed my lips as I read that part again. He’d mentioned Henry before but I hadn’t really given a straight answer in response. I mean, I wasn’t exactly sure how Leo had become friendly with an A-lister like Henry Landon, but that was no reason to cast the guy.

  Sure, it would probably help our pitch to have his name attached, but what if Henry couldn’t handle the role? Heath was complicated. His motives and his struggle were subtle.

  I flinched at the memory of the Hermosa Beach episode I’d watched with my roommates two nights before. It was so bad! I mean, the writing was just atrocious. It’s not like the actors had a lot to work with, but still.

  But then again, Leo cared about this script just as much as I did, and if he felt confident in Henry taking on the part…

  I sat there for way too long as I tried to figure out how to be honest without totally dismissing the idea as a joke. When the office was quiet and everyone was out to lunch, I finally decided to give it to him straight.

  What do I think? I think he’s cocky, entitled, and has no idea how to play nice with others. If we get the greenlight, this will still be a low-budget indie...there’s no room for divas on a set like that.

  I tapped my fingers on the keyboard as I tried to figure out a way to lighten the tone a bit so it wasn’t so harsh. I ended up adding,

  Also, have I mentioned the fact that your friend basically ruined my dress? Kendal still won’t talk to me.

  I added a horror face emoji because that incident with Henry had become something of an inside joke between me and Leo. Kendal was actually over it, for the most part. I’d paid for the dry cleaner and while it wasn’t back to perfect, Kendal informed me that she’d already worn that dress twice so she couldn’t be seen in it again anyway.

  Still. It was the principle of the matter. That ruined dress was now a bitter reminder of what had to be the worst night of my life. Just the memory of it had me scowling at the screen as I hit send.

  Two days later, I came home late to a crime scene. That’s what it looked like, at least.

  There was red everywhere.

  Carolina was shrieking about something. Becca and Ashley were talking on their phones so animatedly I couldn’t make out what either of them was saying, and Kendal…

  Kendal looked to be in a state of shock as she sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by piles of blood red fabric. “I can’t believe this,” she said, holding up a red gown she’d been cradling in her lap. “This is couture,” she said, her eyes glazed over like she was in some sort of trance. “I can’t believe this,” she said again.

  It took a while, but eventually my roommates calmed down enough to fill me in. A delivery guy had stopped by and dropped off boxes filled with designer gowns.

  The boxes…?

  They were addressed to me.

  I fell onto the couch between Carolina and Becca. “Me?”

  Ashley was digging through the tissue paper of another box and pulled out a notecard with a triumphant flourish. Her eyes widened as she read it and then she handed it over to me. In big, messy handwriting someone had scrawled:

  Leo says we need to play nice.

  This is me.

  Playing nice.

  - Henry

  I blinked and read it again. And then I read it again. The third time I read it I clapped a hand over my mouth to smother a laugh that bordered on the hysterical.

  “Who’s Henry?” Kendal demanded.

  “Do you have any idea how much this is worth?” Ashley asked, holding up a stunning designer gown.

  I didn’t know and I was afraid to ask. However, I knew I’d be tempted to sell them all in a heartbeat to make rent if I wasn’t a little worried my roommates would kill me just for letting the thought enter my head.

  Kendal was still in the middle of the floor, currently cradling one of the dresses like a baby. I knew without a doubt that this apartment would become a real crime scene if I attempted to pry these gowns from Kendal’s grasp.

  “Of course he’d try to buy his way into my good graces,” I muttered, more to myself than my roommates; though I didn’t say it with as much heat as I’d intended.

  In fact, it was hard not to smile as I eyed the grand gesture in front of me.

  Fine.

  If Henry Landon was willing to play nice to make Leo happy...then I supposed I could, too.

  Alright, Henry Landon. Prepare to be friended.

  Chapter Seven

  Henry

  I grinned as I read Isabelle’s latest email.

  Fine, if he’s willing to play nice then I will too.

  I knew the dresses would work. Who says money can’t buy forgiveness?

  Smirking, I started to reply, but I stopped myself from typing the flirty response that instantly popped into my head. I reminded myself I wasn’t writing this email, Leo was.

  It was getting harder to keep things straight. The more we chatted over email, the more I lost myself, the lines between Henry and Leo blurring. I knew I was playing a dangerous game. All the little personal details I was adding at the end of each email was almost begging her to figure it out.

  Which posed the question…did I want her to?

  Sadly, this cyber relationship with Isabelle was the best one I’d had in…oh I don’t know...ever?

  It was strangely easy to connect with her. Which continually made me wonder why our face-to-face meeting at my father’s premiere had been such a disaster. She got along perfectly well with the Leo version of me. So why not the real me?

  Maybe because you came at her like an egotistical jerk at that party?

  I cringed at the memory. Yeah, okay, maybe that had not been my finest hour. But even so, it was hard to imagine not clicking with her instantly in person.

  I didn’t know why we worked on paper and not the real world—if you could call Hollywood that.

  Maybe it was the anonymity of hiding behind a fake identity or just the fact that I felt safe enough to let my guard down on this side of the keyboard, where she couldn’t see the real me—insecurities and all.

  It made me braver, more willing to share the real version of myself. The version the world didn’t know. The one where I got to be the guy who cared about artistic prose, elegant phrases and how conveying them on film by capturing a single look that could say more than words ever could.

  Isabelle understood that. She understood me.

  It was unnerving.

  Feeling such a deep connection was a rarity in my world. And though I knew it could all blow up in my face, I was much too addicted to the feeling I got from working with her to come clean yet.

  There had to be a way to ease her into a better relationship with me before I told her the truth—that I’d been Leo all along.

  I took a deep breath, cracked my neck and began to type.

  Glad to hear it. Henry is shooting pickups on Lot B this week. Perhaps this would be a good time to see him in action before Hermosa Beach wraps. I’d love to get your feedback after seeing him on set. You might pick up some crucial pointers that could help him bring Heath to life.

  I took a breath, swallowing the sting of her latest review of my acting ability. Cocky, entitled, and h
as no idea how to play nice with others, were her exact words. I’d rectified the playing nice part, but she’d called me a diva for crying out loud!

  I was not a diva…was I?

  Isabelle’s critiques weren’t always easy to hear, but maybe I needed someone who could give it to me straight. I certainly respected her honesty. That was a valuable commodity in Hollywood, where you could never trust people weren’t just telling you what they thought would get them ahead.

  It had been clear from the beginning that Isabelle Ellis wasn’t in the business of sugar coating her feelings. She might just be the missing ingredient I’d been looking for all this time—and I didn’t mean just for my script.

  But I was getting ahead of myself.

  I shoved my emotions away and tried to channel Leo instead.

  It was almost too easy to slip into the role. But considering my family had taught me never to show weakness, pretending to be someone else was actually a lot easier than letting Isabelle see my true self and the vulnerability she made me feel.

  I only hoped I could keep it together if I managed to convince her to meet me on set.

  I cracked my knuckles and began typing again.

  If you’re interested, I’ll have his assistant set up a meeting so you two can discuss Beyond Sunset over a business lunch.

  Before ending the email, I added extra incentive just in case she was wavering.

  If anything, just the publicity of you two being spotted together could be good press for us. – Leo

  She took the bait!

  I hadn’t been this nervous since I filmed my first television commercial as a five-year-old. Even then my hands hadn’t sweat this much. I kept wiping them on my shorts as I glanced around the set expecting to find Isabelle lurking in some shadowy corner with a pen and pad in hand to keep track of my every shortcoming.

 

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