“That’s annoying,” Mark grumbled as he leaned forward, and messed around with the GPS screen until the voice command option was silenced.
The Mercedes rolled along the asphalt as if it owned the road. For a few seconds, she debated whether to tell him that she wasn’t a nurse. If he found out later, he might get mad. Then again, maybe if he found out later, he’d like her and it wouldn’t matter. She looked at him out of the corners of her eyes, sitting over there like the Grim Reaper. Yeah, right. “Listen, Mark—May I call you Mark?”
“Mr. Bressler is good.”
She returned her attention to the road. “Listen, Mr. Bressler, I’m not a nurse. Not technically a health care worker either.” Since he was probably going to get mad anyway, she went for broke. “You’ve been such a pain in the ass—with all due respect—that no one in the Chinooks’ organization bothered to fill me in on what I should do for you. I suspect that no one expects me to last more than ten minutes. I was just handed a schedule and told good luck.”
For several tense moments, stunned silence filled the car. “You’re not ‘technically a health care worker.’ Do you have any sort of medical training?”
“I know CPR and I played a nurse on TV.”
“You what?”
“I played a nurse on The Bold and the Beautiful.”
“If you’re ‘not technically a health care worker,’ what are you?”
She glanced across the Mercedes at him. Morning sunlight penetrated the leafy pattern of the tree-lined street and poured in through the windshield. The gray shadows brushed his face and slid across his blinding white T-shirt. “I’m an actress.”
His mouth parted in shock. “They sent me an actress?”
“Yeah, evidently.”
“Take the 520 West,” he advised, even thoughsor, even the navigation system was showing her the same thing.
Behind her sunglasses, she rolled her eyes and took the freeway ramp to Seattle. “I’ve been the personal assistant to various celebrities for more than seven years. I have a lot of experience putting up with bull crap.” Arrogant whiners, the lot of them. “An assistant is better than a nurse. I do all the work, you take all the credit. If something bad happens, I get the blame. There is no down side.”
“Except that I have to put up with you. Hovering around, watching me. And you don’t even have the qualifications to take my pulse or wipe my ass.” He opened the console between the seats and pulled out a pair of silver-rimmed aviator sunglasses.
“You seem to be a healthy guy. Do you need someone to wipe your ass?”
“You offering?”
She shook her head and passed a minivan with a my-kid’s-smarter-than-your-kid bumper sticker. “No. I draw the line at any sort of personal contact with my employer.” She glanced over her left shoulder and merged into the faster lane.
“You just cut off that van full of kids.”
She glanced at him. “Plenty of room.”
“You’re driving too fast,” he said through a dark scowl that might have intimidated other people. Other people who weren’t used to dealing with difficult egomaniacs.
“I’m only going five miles over the speed limit. Everyone knows five miles doesn’t count.” She returned her attention to the road. “If you’re going to be a backseat driver, I’m going to make you sit in the backseat like Miss Daisy.” It was pretty much an empty threat and they both knew it. Her brain scrambled for a response if he called her on it. The key to assistant survival was to remain physically and mentally nimble and anticipate your bigheaded employer’s next move.
“You must not be a very good actress if you’re in Seattle babysitting me.”
Her nimble brain hadn’t anticipated that from him. She told herself there were ten thousand reasons why she shouldn’t push him out of the car. “I’m a very good actress,” she said instead. “I just haven’t had a big break. Most of my roles have been bit parts or have landed on the cutting room floor.” She glanced at the GPS and turned on her blinker.
“What have you acted in?”
“A lot of different things
.” Chelsea was used to that question. She got it a lot. “Did you see Juno?”
“You were in Juno?”
“Yeah. I was up in Canada assisting one of my B stars, who was working on a movie for Lifetime, when I got the call that the production company needed background people so I showed up.” She took the I–5 South exit. “I was in the shopping mall scene. If you look past Ellen Page’s big belly, you can see me talking on a cell phone.”
“That’s it?”