by London Casey
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the waves of pleasure wash over and through me. I let out a breath and took a step back, hearing her hiss as I slid out of her. She staggered, as if her legs couldn’t hold her, and then rolled so that her back was against the wall, propping her up. She gave me a cat-ate-the-canary kind of smile.
I discarded the condom and tucked myself back into my pants. I pulled out my wallet and withdrew a twenty. “Here.” I tossed it towards her. “Take a cab.”
I saw the shock settle over her and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Had she really thought this meant we weren’t done?
“Danny’ll be your agent from here on out. I don’t want to see your face again.” I turned and started towards the street where my car would be waiting.
I’d just reached the sidewalk when she screamed out, “Asshole!”
I didn’t acknowledge it as I thanked the valet, tipped him and climbed into the driver’s seat. Sami was right. I was an asshole, but that’s the way it had to be. Two weeks was my usual, four at the max. No attachments. Ever.
Besides, I reasoned as I started towards home, Sami was just another no-talent, wanna-be actress, anyway. The best she could ever hope for would be bit parts in cheap, made-for-TV movies before she made the inevitable transition to adult films. She’d do okay there. She had a nice body and was a decent enough lay, though not as good as she seemed to think she was.
Women like her were a dime a dozen. They all came to Hollywood with the same idea, that their pretty face and tight pussies would let them sleep their way to the top. And I was the top. I was DeVon fucking Ricci, one of the biggest agents in Hollywood. Nothing could touch me.
Chapter Two
Krissy
I leaned against the edge of my best friend’s desk, watching as she put the last of her things into a plastic container. Leave it to Carrie to be overly organized. We were complete opposites that way and I knew my disorganization annoyed her as much as her tidiness annoyed me.
Damn, I was going to miss her.
Carrie Summers had been my best friend since we’d met at Columbia six years ago. We’d been roommates in the dorm, then moved into an apartment after we’d been hired at Webster and Steinberg. We’d met Dena and Leslie here, and the four of us were close, but Carrie and I were closer. Sometimes, I thought that we were more like sisters than friends, and I knew she felt the same way.
“I can’t believe we’re having cake again.” I sighed, putting a bit of drama into it. “It’s only been two months since we had cake for your graduation party.” I gave her a shrewd look. “You just wanted to feed that sweet tooth, didn’t you?”
Carrie gave me a soft smile, the same smile that she’d been wearing since she’d started making these plans. I loved Carrie, but she’d always been a bit uptight. She’d always been the one who’d needed coaxing to follow her heart and her dreams. Now, she was leaving one of the largest divorce law firms in New York to start her own pro bono law practice helping people who’d been abused, specifically focusing on the sex trafficking industry.
“I’m going to miss you,” I said. As soon as I said the words, I wished I could take them back. They hadn’t come out as light-hearted as I’d intended, and sincere emotions weren’t something I liked showing in public.
Carrie paused in her packing and looked up, giving me a puzzled look. I had to drop my gaze down to where my fingers were tapping at the edge of the desk. I couldn’t meet those dark eyes. Not when it was finally time to tell her.
“What do you mean you’re going to miss me?” she asked. “I’m only going to be four blocks away. We can still have lunch together every day and meet after work for drinks whenever you want. That’s the joy of being my own boss. Flexibility.”
I pushed back my thick, glossy black hair. It was past my shoulders now and I was thinking it might be a good idea to cut it before I left. There was a big difference in the weather from here to where I was going.
“Is this about me moving in with Gavin?”
Carrie’s question made me look up, startled. I hadn’t thought she’d take it that way.
“I thought you said you were okay with it.”
I straightened. “I am,” I assured her. “I am. Gavin’s smoking hot, and a really good guy. I’m glad that you’re moving in together.”
I was telling the truth. For a while after they’d first met, my approval of Gavin had fluctuated, but once the whole truth had come out, I’d been more than happy to put my stamp of approval on their relationship. Some people might’ve thought they were moving too fast, but I knew Carrie. She never would’ve made this decision if she wasn’t sure about him, and I’d given her my full support. She deserved to be happy, and so did he.
Carrie folded her arms over her chest and her eyes narrowed. “Well, something’s weird with you. What is it, girl? Spill.”
Dammit. Why did she always have to be so insightful when it came to me? I’d wanted to ease into this, but like most of my life, I’d fallen into it. “I’m probably leaving the company, too,” I said slowly. Carrie’s eyes widened. “And that’s not all,” I continued. “I’m most likely leaving New York as well.”
Carrie’s jaw dropped and she stared at me for nearly a full, uncomfortable minute. Then her mouth snapped shut and she gave me a suspicious look. “Are you saying this because I’m moving out? If you don’t want me to go or you think I’m moving too fast with Gavin, just say so. He’ll understand if I change my mind.”
Was she serious? I rolled my eyes. “Really, Carrie? Come on. You know me better than that,” I said. “I think you and Gavin should definitely move in together. The truth is, there’s a job as an associate looking my way.”
I saw shock, then hurt, cross her face.
“You’ve been keeping this a secret from me for how long? Why?”
“I applied three months ago,” I said. “And then I had the phone interview two weeks after that. Understand why I didn’t say anything?” I saw her doing the math in her head and then watched her frustration with me fade away as she realized that I hadn’t told her because she’d had enough going on at the time. “I haven’t exactly gotten it yet. Besides, I didn’t even know if I’d get called out for a face-to-face interview.”
“And that’s what this is? Not a definite, but an interview?”
I nodded. “They said it was down to just three applicants now. I think I have a good shot.” I paused, then added, “And even if I don’t get it, I might look out there anyway.”
“Out there?” Carrie echoed. I knew she was still putting the pieces together and had just understood that when I said out of the city, I hadn’t meant Jersey. “Where’s the job?”
Here was the part I really hadn’t been looking forward to. “On the West Coast.”
Carrie took a slow, deep breath, letting it out before she asked her next question. “You mean you might move to San Francisco or some place like that?”
“Not San Francisco,” I said. “Hollywood.”
“Are you nuts? You want to go be some divorce lawyer in L.A.?”
I shook my head. If she hated that idea, she was really going to hate this one. “The offer’s from a talent agency.”
She frowned. “A talent agency? What, are you trying to become an actress or something?”
It was a mark of our friendship that I took pride in her snide remark. I found it comforting that I’d rubbed off on her over the years. “No, smart-ass,” I said. “One of the biggest talent agencies in Hollywood needs another associate in their legal department. Remember that guy, Kenny, who used to work here?”
“The one you made out with in the elevator and then bragged about it over drinks?” Carrie’s lips twitched into a grin. “Yeah, I have a vague recollection of him.”
I laughed. Even with as kinky as she and Gavin had gotten, Carrie was still hesitant to talk about sex anywhere that wasn’t our apartment. Or, based on what I’d heard through our thin walls, the bedroom. “We did a little more th
an make out, but yes, that’s the one. He’s been trying to get back in my pants ever since. His cousin works at the agency and told him they were looking for another associate. He figured it’d be a good reason to call.”
“Did you go out with him again?” Carried asked.
I shook my head. “No way. He wasn’t that good, or that hot.” I ignored the judgey look she was sending my way. She might keep her mouth shut about it most of the time, but I knew she didn’t approve of the way I handled my romantic life. “But I did decide to send in my resumé and now they want me to fly in for an interview.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Monday morning. The meeting’s at noon.”
“I’m happy you have this opportunity,” Carrie said. Her eyes were bright with tears. “But if you get this job, am I ever going to see you again, or is this it?”
I rolled my eyes again. “Of course we’ll see each other.” I playfully pushed at her arm, trying to lighten the mood. This is exactly what I hadn’t wanted. “I’ll come visit. Or, here’s an idea. You and Gavin can move to LA. Start your little sexy club out there. Give me a good place to scope out all those California hotties.”
“Krissy.” Carrie said my name with a combination of affection and irritation.
“And your pro bono business can be just as effective on the West Coast. There are plenty of young women being abused in California. Trust me. Probably more than in New York.”
Carrie frowned. “That’s not funny.”
I held up my hands in a gesture of surrender. I knew I’d crossed the line as soon as the words had left my mouth. “I know, I know. Crude,” I said. “But I’m pretty sure that’s a true statement.”
Carrie nodded, and her expression shifted to one of sadness. “What am I going to do without you?”
I put my arm around her shoulders. If she started crying, I was going to start and I didn’t particularly like the idea of walking around for the next hour or so with red eyes.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go get some of that cake. I heard Mimi ordered the same as last time: Red Velvet with cream cheese frosting.”
Carrie gave a laugh that had a sniffle in the middle of it. “She always orders Red Velvet…”
I laughed and started to walk us both towards the conference room. I hadn’t told Mimi about the interview yet. That was another conversation I didn’t really want to have. I pushed down the butterflies that wanted to make an appearance. I wasn’t usually the nervous type, but even I had a bit of anxiety about this one. It would be my first big venture completely on my own. Going away to college didn’t really count. This was the first adult move I’d be making, and it would be across the country, all by myself. On the one hand, I was excited by the prospect of a change, of soaking up the sun in LA, rubbing elbows with all of the beautiful people; but on the other hand, I’d miss all of my friends. No matter what I told Carrie, I wasn’t sure how often I’d be able to make it back across the country. I didn’t want to lose the people I cared about, but I didn’t want to pass up this chance.
I forced thoughts of myself to the back of my mind as Carrie and I entered the conference room. This wasn’t the time or place. This was Carrie’s moment to say her good-byes and get her well wishes. My time was coming.
Chapter Three
I’d flown before, but I’d never been so thankful to have my feet firmly on the ground. I carefully made my way through the corridor, walking more steadily than some of my fellow passengers, most of whom looked just as green as I felt. Despite the anxiety and nausea caused by our turbulent six hour flight, I also saw smiles on many of the faces as we stepped into the LAX terminal.
I stopped as I stepped into a patch of sunlight. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, letting myself soak it in. I’d left a cloudy and overcast New York at seven thirty in the morning and arrived in sunny Los Angeles at ten thirty, thanks to the time zone changes. I had thirty minutes before my interview, so I headed to the bathrooms first to freshen up. My phone said only three hours had passed, but I probably looked like the full six the trip had taken.
Not even that thought could take the smile off of my face. My queasiness had settled, proving that it had only been the turbulence and not nerves. Now I was ready. Not just ready. I was excited.
I was here. Los Angeles. The City of Dreams. This was the only place in the world where your handyman would give you his screenplay after fixing your air conditioner. In New York, there were the waiters and waitresses who were waiting for their big break on Broadway or as ‘serious’ writers, but in Hollywood, pretty much everyone wanted to be something more.
I had only my carry-on with me since I was only staying for a couple of days, which meant I didn’t have to stop at the baggage claim. That was good. I wanted to have the time to make myself look presentable. No, I amended. I wanted to look good. I stepped into the bathroom, put my bag on the counter and got to work. The company had offered to put me up in a hotel for two nights so that if they wanted a second interview, I wouldn’t have to fly back out in two days. They’d been very accommodating.
When I was sure that my tanned skin looked flawless and my thick black hair was behaving itself, I smoothed down the skirt of my sensible business suit and headed back out into the main lobby. This time, I went for the line of people waiting for pick-ups. Sure enough, there was a man in a black suit holding a sign with my name on it. I grinned when I saw that they’d actually spelled it right. Points to Mirage Talent. I don’t know how many job offers I’d turned down because they spelled my name wrong or tried to make it Kristine or Kristen. Nope. It was just Krissy, and if they couldn’t take the time to learn that, I didn’t want to work for them.
“Ms. Jensen.” The driver inclined his head as I approached. “May I take your bag?”
A slightly snarky and very inappropriate comment popped into my head, but I held my tongue. Even if the driver was kinda cute in a tall and gawky kind of way, I wasn’t going to risk a potentially awesome job for a one-liner.
“Thank you,” I said as I handed over the bag. It wasn’t very heavy, but it was on the bulky side, so carrying it always made me feel like I was walking lopsided, especially in the four inch heels I’d chosen for today.
I was a little over average height even without the shoes, and they put me a nice five foot ten. That was a good height, I’d found, for meeting new clients and potential employers. Tall enough so that I didn’t have to strain to talk to taller men, but not so tall that I ended up towering over most of them. I’d also found that the heels complemented my figure. I was just a touch too curvy to be considered slender, but the heels made my legs look longer and thinner.
I felt good as I followed the driver to a black Town Car. I’d felt the admiring looks from men, and a couple women, as I’d passed and knew that I’d chosen the right ensemble for the day. I wanted admiration, not cat calls. Attractive but professional was always the right call for first impressions. If I got the job, I’d take a lay of the land and figure out where I was on the fashion scale.
The driver didn’t say a word as he eased into the infamous LA traffic and began to make his way towards Mirage Talent. I stared out the tinted windows, completely enchanted by the skyline. It was so different than New York or Chicago. The sky seemed so much bigger here, the sun brighter. I hadn’t realized just how much I was going to love it. I’d told Carrie that I might look around for another job out here if I didn’t get the one at Mirage, but I’d only been half-serious. Now, after less than half an hour in California, I was certain this was where I wanted to be.
The car pulled up in front of an impressive building with the Mirage logo on the front of its steel and glass exterior. I took a deep breath, feeling a small flutter of nerves in my stomach. I had to admit, the place was a little intimidating.
“My bag?” I asked the driver as he opened the door.
“I’ll be the one taking you to your hotel, Miss, so the bag is safe in the trunk.” His face was carefully b
lank, the kind of professional expression that told me, despite his youthful appearance, he’d been doing this for a while.
“Thank you,” I said as I started towards the front doors.
It took all of my self-control not to gawk at the lobby as I walked inside. It was done in the same steel and glass style as the exterior, but inside it was even more impressive. People expected the outsides of buildings to be like that, but the inside made it feel like something sleek and modern. It was the exact opposite of the old-fashioned antiques and art work of Webster and Steinberg. I’d never been very fond of that style. This, however, this I liked. I could work here and love every minute of being in this building.
The receptionist beamed at me as I approached and I wondered if she was really that friendly or if it was an act. If I was back in New York, I would’ve leaned towards fake, but she seemed genuine.
“Hi.” I returned her smile with one of my own. No way was I going to get the reputation as the bitchy New Yorker. “I’m here for an appointment. Krissy Jensen.”
“Of course, Miss Jensen,” she said. “If you just keep going through that set of doors, you’ll come to the reception seating area. Have a seat in there and you’ll be called as soon as they’re ready for you.”
The seating area was just as gorgeous as the lobby. Across from the set of doors I’d just come through were two more doors, also steel and glass, but these were frosted so that I couldn’t see what lay behind them. To my left was a huge leather couch and, across from it, separated by a massive glass coffee table, were two large leather chairs.
A handsome young man was already sitting in one of the chairs, so I headed for the couch. I picked up a magazine off of table and opened it without really looking at it. I stole a glance at the man across from me, and then took a second look. He had the white blond hair, blue eyes and tan that I’d always associated with California guys, the kind of guy who looked like he’d be just at home on a beach, wearing shorts and carrying a surfboard, as he was sitting across from me in khakis and a button-down shirt.