Leaning forward in his expensive leather chair and staring at his computer screen, he demanded, “Get me some coffee, Madison. Also, move my two o’clock appointment with Richard to first thing tomorrow morning, and make sure I have some time scheduled before the end of the day to speak with Paige.”
He pursed his lips disdainfully as he added, “I also need you to go over the finalized contracts and make sure they’re correct. I sent you an e-mail with all the details. My flight to New York on Friday needs to be pushed back, and make sure they have the right meal this time.”
He lifted his head and eyeballed me as he said that last part, insinuating that I was the one who had screwed up the meal, when in fact it was the airline. I learned long ago that arguing with Jayson never worked in my favor, so I kept my mouth shut and nodded my head along with his, silently taking the blame much in the same way I had when it first happened.
My boss expected perfection and didn’t like to hear excuses. When something went wrong, it didn’t matter how or why, but it was always my fault. I should have seen it coming, or been more proactive, or known something like this could happen. And when Jayson needed someone to yell at and blame, guess who won that contest every time? Me.
The thought of resigning had crossed my mind on more than one occasion, but the other agencies in the area were simply more of the same. This was an industry filled with money-driven egomaniacs. A business where personal insecurities hid under a big title and an even bigger attitude.
I scribbled furiously before meeting his bloodshot blue eyes. “Okay. Is that all?”
“For now.” He waved a hand at me dismissively before looking back at his computer screen, and I rushed off to fetch his coffee.
I began working for Jayson as his assistant over two years ago, since shortly after I graduated from college. He was a big-shot talent agent, and this was one of the premiere talent agencies in Los Angeles. My plan was to work my way up to junior agent status before becoming a full-fledged agent myself. This business was complete and utter chaos…but I loved everything about it. Negotiating with producers and movie studios on behalf of your client, reading movie scripts to find the right ones, coordinating schedules and high-profile events, it was what I wanted to do.
In this business, not all actors and actresses had managers, but they all had talent agents. And I knew exactly the type I wanted to be. I planned on caring about my clients. Of course I wanted to make a decent living and I knew this career could provide just that, but I also needed to make sure that the personal relationships were what mattered the most. The talent I signed needed to trust me, knowing that I would have their best interests at heart, not just their paychecks.
I’d seen all too often how money changed people. It was like once they got a taste of the good life, it suddenly consumed them, becoming their driving force. Every aspect of their life, every minute of their time, every decision they made was devoted to doing whatever garnered them the most cash, instead of what made the most sense.
My intention was to do the exact opposite. I craved the balance that few seemed to have in this industry. I intended to work with integrity and swore to myself that if all else failed, at least I’d have that. When people thought of me, I hoped they would think of someone who had their back in the best possible way. I wanted the best of both worlds—good money and even better relationships. I would be a rarity not only in this business, but in the industry as a whole. At least, that was the plan.
Filling the large mug to the top with coffee, I hurried back into Jayson’s office and placed it carefully on top of the Italian coaster he’d been given as a gift last year. Thankful I didn’t spill any, I turned back toward my desk positioned right outside Jayson’s door so I could begin working through my to-do list.
The red light flashed on my work phone, indicating I had a voice mail, and I absentmindedly pressed the button while simultaneously reaching for a pen and flicking my computer screen on. I was a master at multitasking.
I was furiously scribbling the details of the last message into my notebook when the next message started, but loud music and a mishmash of voices filled my ear. I squinted, glancing away from my notepad and toward the phone as I stared at it, willing it to play something intelligible in my ear. The voices grew in volume and I reached out to delete the message altogether when a suddenly clear voice stopped my hand in midair.
“Madison? God, I hope this is the right Madison. It’s Walker. We met tonight. If this is the right Madison, can you please give me a call? My number is 555-8453.” He paused, breathing audibly before ending the message with, “It doesn’t matter what time it is. Just call me. Please.”
The call disconnected and I pressed the number nine on the dial pad to save the message instead of erase it. Air whooshed from my lungs as I quickly slammed down the receiver and stared at the phone. How did he find me? And why the hell was he looking?
Reaching for my cell phone, I typed out a quick text to Keri. I knew she’d be hard at work already, but I needed to talk to someone about this.
WALKER RHODES JUST LEFT ME A VOICE MAIL. AT MY OFFICE. WITMFF?
WITMFF stood for “what in the mother fucking fuck?” It had become one of our “things” one night after Keri had said it, and it stuck. We’ve been WITMFF texting ever since.
After sending the message, I turned to my computer and was scanning through the 152 e-mails waiting for me when my cell phone vibrated. I glanced at it, knowing it would be Keri calling.
“Hi,” I whispered quietly into the phone. Whenever possible, I tended to avoid all personal calls while I was at the office. The truth was that I wanted to be taken seriously in this job, and so I took it seriously in return.
“Shut the fuck up!” Keri shouted. “How did he get your number? Did he leave his? Are you calling him back? What the hell, Myers?” She ranted so loudly, I had to pull the phone away from my ear.
“I have no idea how he found me,” I whispered. “And no, I have no intention of calling him back.”
“Why the hell not? Aren’t you curious in the least about why he’s stalking you?” she huffed, still yelling.
I laughed out loud and threw my hand over my mouth to quiet myself. Sucking in a quick breath, I whispered, “He’s not stalking me.”
“He kind of is. Shit, I have to go. We will be discussing this later,” she informed me as she ended our call.
Placing my cell phone back on top of my desk, I focused my attention toward my computer. Scrolling through the e-mails, I quickly became annoyed at the ridiculous amount of spam that always seemed to leak through the security filters. I hated wasting even a single minute not being productive, and stupid spam always slowed me down. Once they were all deleted, I searched for the e-mails with the contract attachments from my boss. I quickly printed them out and grabbed my yellow highlighter, looking over them for any discrepancies or inaccurate information before pushing away from my desk.
Knocking softly on Jayso
n’s door before entering, I obeyed as he held his hand in the air, indicating that I should wait while he finished typing something on his keyboard. I listened as the tapping of the keys clicked faster than any normal human being should be able to type.
“What do you need, Madison?” he asked, his attention still focused on his monitor.