by J. J. Bella
"Well," said Sophia, "it's a nice dream, but in the meantime, I'll be back here in the real world."
"It's just…we can't keep doing this forever, right? You and I can't be the only girls who Simon's treated like this."
I stood up and watched the bustle of the office, watching the dozens of girls my age dart here and there. Fetching coffee, making copies, and answering calls. I wondering just how many of them had already fallen prey to the men who ran this place, and how many would be cast aside whenever they outlived their "usefulness" to the men in charge.
"I mean, you're right," said Sophia. "I've talked to a bunch of other girls and they've all dealt with the same crap. And it's not just Simon; just about every guy on the floor above get up to this shit."
I could tell that my suggesting that there might be a better way to do things had worked its way into her mind. But she was right- other than dream, what could we do?
Then, as if on cue, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
"Yes?" I asked.
It was one of the girls who worked upstairs.
"Mr. Whittaker wants to see you," she said in her low, professional voice. "Please come to his office as soon as possible."
"Oh," I said, a little surprised. "I thought he was out of town."
"Just got back," came the reply. "And he wants to see you right away."
My stomach sank. Part of me was convinced that he had some kind of way to listen in on the conversation, and that he was calling me up to give me the ax and blacklist me forever.
"It's Simon," I said.
The pained looked that crossed Sophia's face said it all.
"Good luck," she said. "If it helps, he doesn't make moves in his office; he'll wine and dine you first."
It helped, but only a little.
Sophia gave me a quick hug, and I was off. Ten minutes later, I walked through the door of Mr. Whittaker's office, spotting him sitting behind his desk, his squat form reminding me of a well-dressed toad.
"Come in, dear," he said, gesturing to one of the seats in front of him,
I walked quickly to the seat and slid into it.
"First of all," he said, weaving his fingers together on the dark brown surface of his desk, "I want to congratulate you for doing what I've heard was a bang-up job on the Thorne project. I was oh-so-pleased to read the email from Mr. Thorne letting me know that you proved nearly indispensible to the production."
"T-thanks," I said, the word coming out in a nervous tumble.
Mr. Whittaker sat back in his seat, that same lecherous grin that I'd grown all too familiar with spreading across his face.
"Of course, you know that there are…other matters to discuss."
I gulped.
"First of all, what did you learn about the production side of things at Mr. Thorne's operation."
Unfortunately, I have something to confess- something that I'm not proud of. When I got back to Liam's apartment after I walked in on his little…dalliance, Mr. Whittaker's request popped right into my mind. At the moment I was mad, hurt, enraged- all that. I wanted to hurt Liam, to make him feel just a shred of the pain that he'd put me through. So, I went into his office, accessed his computer, and copied just about every piece of sensitive data onto a flash drive. I knew all the passwords, so it was all a simple matter of breaking the trust of the only man I'd ever loved. Easy, right? Luckily, once I got back to my apartment I cooled down a bit. I was still furious, but the idea of selling out Liam now seemed disgusting.
Still, I had the flash drive. On it was everything that Mr. Whittaker was asking for.
"Right," I said awkwardly.
I didn't want to say that I had it, and I didn't want to say that I didn't. Really, at that moment, I was just scared of getting on Mr. Whittaker's bad side.
"But we can discuss boring business matters later," he said, leaning forward. "I'm more interested in talking about…us."
Another grin.
"And, um, what did you want to talk about?" I asked in a pathetic attempt to delay the inevitable.
"Oh, I think you know," he said. "Listen- I'm not fibbing when I say that I'm quite impressed with your performance; I think you're going to go places here. But, of course, I'm going to need to see if you and I can have a good, well, let's call it a ‘workplace dynamic'."
I gulped.
"However, I'm, regrettably, quite busy with the Thorne project at the moment. Sure, I could squeeze you in somewhere, but you're a special kind of girl, the type that I really want to take the time to get to know. So, I'm thinking that we can postpone our impending business until after the premiere."
After the premiere, I thought. That's in a couple of weeks.
"Once this is all bowed-up and finished, I think we'll have plenty of time to, ah, chew the fat."
His words hung in the air. I didn't know what to say.
"So, that's all I have for you, Miss Hunter. Just wanted to make sure that I hadn't forgotten about you."
He turned back towards the windows behind him.
"That will be all."
I scrambled out of my seat and got out of there as fast as my legs would carry me without breaking into a full run. Once safely in the elevator heading back down to my floor, I let out the sigh of relief to end all sighs of relief. For now, I was safe, but this was only temporary. The inevitable had been delayed, but only for a while.
I had two weeks to figure out something. Just what, I had no idea. But I knew that I didn't have any other choice.
19
"And that's when I tried for Sharkacaine Five; it was like, the most stressful audition of my life. But also the best, you know? Like, that who project was just so, um, spiritually fulfilling."
I was only about twenty minutes into my date and already looking for the nearest exit. The girl sitting across from me at the table in the little Italian place where I'd invited her for our date was pretty enough. She had bright, blonde hair, grass-green eyes, fair skin, and a wide smile full of teeth so ivory-white and straight that I was certain that they were veneers. Katie was her name, though that was almost an incidental detail- she was, in just about every way, identical to the dozens of other gorgeous, wanna-be stars that I'd gone out with in the last few years. We'd met at some cocktail party a few months back where she'd strayed from the arm of the producer she'd arrived with long enough to seek me out and flirt with me in just about the most obvious manner possible. To be truthful, I'd completely forgotten about her until I received a text from her the other night.
And here I was, listening to her go through her resume of B-flicks in some awkward attempt to impress me. You see, girls like these were always angling for the next rung up on the ladder, the next more-prestigious film they can land a part in, the next influential director or producer they can bat their eyelids at. I had no illusions about what was going on here. Sure, I could tell that she was actually attracted to me –the amount of twirling her hair around her finger she did make that abundantly clear- but she, like all the others, had stars in her eyes.
Why was I even bothering with this, you might ask? Well, to be honest, I needed something, or someone, to get my mind off of Mia.
She was all I could think about. After that night when she saw me with Emmanuelle, I knew that I'd made a great mistake, possibly the mistake of a lifetime. Sure, I might've only let myself slip for a moment, but that moment was I that it'd taken for Mia to see all that she needed to see. And worse still, it seemed that Emmanuelle had been hoping for something like this to happen; I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was all too pleased that Mia's heart had been broken.
And so, here I was, weeks later, trying to put my life back in something resembling some kind of order.
It hadn't been easy.
"And that's when I met, um, what's that guy's name? The producer who did the Saw movies?"
I mumbled out the name, more interested in the Old Fashioned in front of me than anything -ah, Kelly? Kendra? Something with a "K," I'm sure- ha
d to say. Sure, she was sweet enough; maybe in another time I would've taken her back to my place for a quick fling. But now, after all I'd been through with Mia, all I could think about was her.
Soon, the food arrived and I listlessly poked at it while listening to my date yammer on. I watched her as she ate out of the corner of my eye, knowing that each bite she took was another moment closer to when I could pay the tab and get back home. Finally, when she was about halfway through, she decided she was done.
"Dessert?" she asked, her green eyes wide.
"Sure," I said, letting her have the run of the menu
I wanted to get out of there, but I felt bad for this poor kid. After all, though I wasn't interested in the date, it'd probably be one of the few times she'd go out with a producer that didn't end in them having some backseat "negotiations" for an upcoming part.
After another ten minutes she was done. I settled up and we took my car back to her place. Once we arrived at her little walk-up in Astoria, I accompanied her to the front door.
"Care for something to drink?" she asked, a sly look on her face.
I'd been around the block enough times to know what this meant. But try as I might to get myself interested, I just couldn't do it. Looking at this beautiful young woman, I couldn't even muster the enthusiasm to kiss her.
"Early morning meeting," I said, already turning my body back towards the street.
"Oh, poo," she said. "No fun."
"I had a lovely time," I said.
"Me too," she responded, her voice sultry and low.
Then she went right for it, puckering her lips and closing her eyes.
Girl knows what she wants, I thought.
I leaned in and gave her a quick peck.
"OK gotta go bye!" I said, hurrying back to my car.
Minutes later, I was back in the driver's seat and heading back to my apartment. I arrived home to see Olivia at the kitchen table with Sammie, that girl I'd hired to babysit. I paid Sammie for the night and sent her off.
"Hey, Minnie," I said, mussing Olivia's hair as she finished the coloring she was working on.
"Hi, Daddy," she said. "How was the date?"
I winced at this, regretting that Olivia knew anything about my dating life.
"You know what?" I said, cracking open a beer. "It could've been a lot worse."
"I don't think you should be dating anyone," said Olivia, not looking up from her drawing.
"Oh, yeah?" I asked, taking a sip of my beer. "And why's that?"
"Because you already have a good girlfriend- Mia."
The name hit me like a slim knife to the gut. Olivia had been asking about Mia just about every day since Mia left. I knew that having her leave would be rough on the kid, but I was foolish enough to hope that Mia's leaving would've been a little smoother, maybe even with the understanding that Mia could come by for babysitting every now and then. Instead, because of my foolish behavior, Olivia was left confused and saddened by Mia's sudden departure. And all I could do was tell her that Mia was a work friend, and that our time together was over. Of course, this did little to make her feel better.
"We've been over this," I said in a soft voice. "Mia's not staying here anymore."
"I bet if you asked her really nice she'd come back."
"If only it were that easy, kiddo," I said, mussing her hair and leaving her to her drawings.
I went to my office and took a seat in front of the computer. On top of everything, I still had the finishing touches on the film to oversee. Just about everything was done, and all that was left for me to do was to sign off on the final cut. And, sure enough, checking my email I saw that I had a message from Michael, letting me know that he and the rest of the crew had just finished, and that the final cut of the movie was ready to be approved.
I turned in my chair, took a sip of my beer and watched the city out of my office window. Just like that, after a month of work, the project was done. The biggest film of my career thus far was in the can, and all that remained was to premiere it, and that could be in as little as a couple of weeks. Firing back an email, I let Michael know that I was ready to look it over. As I'd been part of the editing process, my final approval would be a formality.
The flick was sure to be a hit, and the next phase of my career was all but laid out in front of me. I should've felt on top of the world. But instead, all I felt was empty. After all, what good is being a success if you haven't got anyone to share it with?
And the worst thing of all was that I knew I only had myself to blame.
20
The night of the premiere arrived before I knew it. I'd spent the entire day going back and forth between dresses, not sure of what to wear. Luckily, I had plenty of outfits left over from the shopping trips that Liam had treated me to, so I didn't need to go shopping.
"Damn, girl," said Sophia, stepping into the bedroom where I stood in my underwear, two dresses on the bed that I couldn't even begin to decide between. "I know it's a big night, but there's indecisive and there's indecisive."
"I just…I don't know. I don't know why I'm having such a hard time."
My eyes flicked back and forth between the dresses. One was a deep, midnight blue that was low cut, the other was a flesh-colored, classic-looking thing that hugged my body like crazy. Sophia looked me and down.
"Well, you've got the damn body for both of ‘em," she said, taking a sip of the champagne we'd opened an hour or so ago. "You could wear a potato sack with holes cut out of it and you'd still turn heads."
Sophia and I, neither one of us wanting to deal with the hassle of finding dates, decided to just go as a pair.
"I'm not really interested in that tonight," I said, still trying to decide between the two dresses.
"Oh, please," said Sophia. "Every producer and actor worth a damn is gonna be there, and you don't care about ‘that'?"
"I just, I don't know…" I trailed off, my mind still on the outfits.
"You're thinking about Liam, aren't you?"
At that moment I hated Sophia's skill at getting right to the heart of the matter.
"No…" I said, covering my mouth with my hand. "Where's my wine?"
Sophia handed me my glass, her mouth in a knowing smirk.
"Fess up," she said. "I know you're trying to play it cool, but you're still all into that hunk of man. Hell, I'd be if I were you."
I didn't want to say anything. I wanted to keep doing just what I said I was doing, which was playing it cool, pretending it wasn't a problem. But now that she'd brought up the topic, I couldn't help it. I could feel the words flowing to my mouth like water rushing up towards the opening of a geyser.
"I know I should be mad at him," I said, the words shooting out. "But I can't stop thinking about him. I'm wondering if I made a big mistake in cutting him out like that. What if I'd been given a second chance and I threw it all away?"
"Well, you did catch him locking lips with Emmanuelle Jarrod."
"I know, but he seemed so sincere when I accused him, like I'd seen something at exactly the wrong moment."
"Maybe," said Sophia. "But in my recent experience with producers, I'm not really inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt when it comes to being on the level."
"You're probably right," I said. "Maybe he's just a sleaze like all the others."
"Now, I didn't say that," said Sophia. "I think…well, you're seeing him tonight. Maybe think of this as a ‘second chance for a second chance'. That is, unless he shows up with Emmanuelle on his arm.
The thought of this made my blood boil.
"Just go with the flow, lady," said Sophia giving my shoulder a squeeze."
"Yeah, you're right," I said, feeling a little better.
Feeling calmer, I decided on the blue dress, and a half hour and a glass of wine later, I was ready to go. Thorne Productions paid out for pickups for the tops members of the crew, so Sophia and I were able to arrive there in style. We showed up to the red carpet, paparazzi packed on
both sides of the barrier that led up to the theater. I was nervous as hell, and not ready to take on being the center of attention all by myself. Sophia, on the other hand, was all about it. She grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me out of the back of the limo, the cameras flashing all around us. My face went red right away. Through the camera flashes and the din of chatter, I heard Liam's name mentioned, and I was sure that some of the paparazzi remembered me as the girl who'd been on Liam Thorne's arm not too long ago.
Sophia hammed up for the cameras, posing and making silly faces as they snapped away. Then, right before we headed in, she gave me a big smooch on the cheek.
"What was that all about?" I said, wanting to die of embarrassment and laughter all at the same time.
"Give ‘em something to talk about," she said, taking a pair of wine glasses off of a passing waiter's tray and handing me one. "Think about it: ‘Liam Thorne drives promising young producer to lesbianism'."
I gave her a playful swat on the arm before turning my attention to the theater.
"Damn," said Sophia, looking around.
My thoughts exactly.
The Hell's Kitchen theater was glitz and glamour that I didn't think still existed. A double spiral staircase dominated the lobby, a pair of gold columns leading up to the ceilings high above. The floor was covered in rich, red carpet, and posters of old movies dominated the walls. The lobby was packed with men and women in all sorts of finery, waiters and waitresses in all-black zipping here and there. The paparazzi was outside, so the noise was a pleasant din. And, of course, celebrities were everywhere. The words “THE BRITISH JOB” where in bright, sparkling letters on the marquee.
Sophia and I stood for a moment near the entrance, gawking at all of the Hollywood elite who we saw in attendance. I spotted the screenwriters and the director, as well as many of the bit players in the movie. Jace Landau was there with some generic hottie on his arm, and Emmanuelle Jerrod was in attendance, a slim, effeminate man on her arm. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized that it wasn't Liam.