“What I want both of you to do for the short term,” Brad says, pulling my eyes back to his face, “is to put this situation out of your heads. You each have a contract that P&D will see through, and then we’ll examine it again. Evie, you’ve got five months left on your current contract. Carter, you’re due to re-sign in six. At the time of renewal it’s possible there will only be room for one. But you’re not competing. Not exactly.”
The words not exactly fall like bricks dropped from twenty feet up.
“Meet with some of the agents, the support staff—on both sides,” Brad continues with practiced obliviousness. “Talk to the team we have here visiting from New York. Get a sense for how your lists are going to react and how you can retain them—we’ll be talking about that a little later in the week.” He turns to me. “Evie, I don’t think retentions will be as big an issue for you, since your clients were already P&D—so what I would love is for you to show Carter around, show him how we do things. Maybe introduce him to some of your colleagues and contacts.”
I feel sick. Just like with John Fineman, Brad is having me pass along some of my hard-earned connections to a coworker. But not just any coworker: to Carter, my new almost-boyfriend, with whom I’m not exactly competing for a job.
“Of course,” I say, because what else can I do?
“Carter,” Brad says, turning, “you have enough charisma to take over this entire town, and I think you’ll do it. Listen to Evie, learn the ropes; she knows what she’s talking about.” He looks between us. “At least for the time being,” he says, leaning back in his chair again, “I think you will make an amazing team. Try to see it that way.”
He smiles, leans forward with his hands steepled beneath his chin, and gives us the patented icy blue stare.
Brad Kingman has excused us.
• • •
Out in the hallway Carter and I each study the floor, the wall, the table desks in the distance. The number of things we could say about the situation seems infinite. But oddly, as much as I’ve enjoyed his company and his kisses and his penis, Carter is the last person I want to talk to about this right now.
I can tell he’s tense. I can tell we’re both tense, but I need to process a little bit in my own head before I help him process it, too.
He lets out a quiet whistle. “This is unreal.”
“I agree.” I have to pull my eyes away from the tension in his jaw.
“When I heard we’d merged, my biggest fear was just that it would be hard to work with my new girlfriend.”
My heart swoops low in my chest when he says this.
“But now, it’s like . . .” He shakes his head, running a hand through his thick hair. “I need this job. I moved here for this job.”
“My entire life is here,” I remind him. “I’ve worked for P&D for five years. I realize the situation really sucks for you, but I’ve built connections here. I’ve built a career here.”
You have enough charisma to take over this entire town, and I think you’ll do it.
Brad’s words to Carter bounce around the inside of my skull, and I squeeze my hands into fists at my sides. Brad wants Carter to take over the entire town; where exactly does that leave me?
Carter glances over to me, and for a flash I can see annoyance in his green eyes. But he quickly tucks it away.
“This is probably not the time to talk about it.” He closes his eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths. “Look. This is the worst thing that could have happened between us, and I realize that.” He puts a warm hand on my forearm. “But we’re going to figure it out, don’t worry.”
For some reason his reassurance bothers me even more. It’s true this isn’t a great situation for either of us, but I don’t need him to patronize me and tell me that everything will be okay when he knows exactly as much as I do. And I especially don’t need him to try to reassure me after he’s just told me how much he needs to be the one to keep his job.
We drift apart without more conversation, moving in opposite directions away from Brad’s office: I head to get a drink of water from the break room while Carter walks toward the restrooms.
I know I should eat the Luna bar I put in my purse this morning, but my stomach seems to have closed up shop for the day.
• • •
In order to help with the transition, P&D brought in a few team members from New York. And just like Brad suggested, early that afternoon I have a one-on-one with a senior agent I’ve met on several occasions, a woman I deeply admire. Her name is Joanne Simms, and she’s a shark. She started in Features and has moved over to the television side, but she knows everyone. At first blush, she’s the sweetest human you could possibly meet. But in negotiations the gloves come off. She’s my Kathy Bates in Fried Green Tomatoes. If you’re in her parking spot, she will ram her car into your car without a second thought. And then maybe set it on fire.
Her temporary office is in the corner and has a beautiful view of downtown and the mountains beyond. This office was recently occupied by Tom Hetchum, head of Legal at P&D. Tom is no longer with us.
Joanne beckons me in, and while she finishes up a call, I stand near the window, trying to calm my racing heart. I love the view of LA from this side of the building. It reminds me how many people there are here, how many opportunities, how much space there is for everyone in the sprawling mass of buildings. I’m not an optimist, but I’m not exactly a pessimist, either. I’m a wait-and-see-when-you-have-more-info-ist. My opinions spend ninety percent of their time in a holding pattern before swooping in like a hawk.
And right now my opinions need Joanne to get off the phone and tell me this is all bullshit and everything will be fine.
In the end, she doesn’t tell me that. But there’s a hopeful vibe to the meeting, anyway. Joanne is hilarious, she loves her job, she loves what she does. And she’s a woman who never lets the old boys’ game get in her way. She is exactly what I want to be.
We talk about her list, about the kind of list I have and where I’d like to see it go. We talk about the clients I’ll likely inherit from the agents who were let go, and how to manage my current clients’ panic along with the panic of those actors passed off to someone new. We have a conversation that feels a lot like long-term planning, and although I won’t get to work with Joanne much because she’s in New York and in television, just knowing she’ll be around for a while is reassuring.
At the end of the meeting I feel a million times better about my place here, and I generally feel like Carter and I can find a way to make this work. At the very least, I feel confident that I’m needed—and that upper management at P&D knows that.
The hallways are quiet as I leave Joanne’s office, and I have a moment of peace to myself to sit and think about this morning. I saw Carter heading into John Fineman’s office earlier, and instinctively I want to wait for him. I feel so much better after talking to Joanne, and I want to infuse a conversation with Carter with some of that hopefulness. But when I see him emerge, I immediately sense his meeting did not go as well. His position is admittedly more precarious than mine, and I do really like him. I don’t want him moving to New York any more than I want to move there myself.
“How did it go with John?” I ask.
He smiles a little drily. “I think that was the most talking I’ve ever done in a one-on-one meeting before.”
I laugh. “John is not known for his conversation skills. I sat next to him at a company Christmas dinner and let’s just say it’s amazing he does any deals. He’s not known for being very . . . sociable.” I feel a little like I’m marking my territory here, emphasizing my familiarity with people he’s only just meeting. I know I should pull back and be more of a team player—Carter is the new guy, after all. So I go for encouragement: “I’m sure you were great. I bet everyone loves you.”
Carter studies me for a few breaths, and I get the distinct impression that he knows exactly what I’m doing. “It looks like things went well with Joanne.”
r /> I nod, smiling. “When are you meeting with her?”
“Later this week.”
“Do you want to grab some lunch?” I ask. “I could fill you in on what’s what here. Who’s sleeping with who and where the good coffee is hidden.”
He looks away, unsmiling as he squints at a point in the distance down the hall. “I think I’m just going to grab a sandwich and catch up on all the emails I need to deal with,” he says. “I’ve got a million things to handle right now. Maybe some other time?”
I know people. I can easily spot the careful stepping back. “Okay.”
I watch as he pinches the bridge of his nose.
And then he looks up and gives me a pained smile. “I’ll see you later?”
He turns to head down the hall and his posture immediately changes. His shoulders are straight, and his ass looks amazing in his dark dress pants. Heads turn. A few interns lean in and discuss him when he’s walked past, their expressions eager, admiring. It’s as if the star quarterback has just strolled down the hall. My high from my meeting with Joanne deflates as I see exactly what they see: confidence, charisma . . .
Competition.
chapter nine
evie
“How can you not like brussels sprouts?” Amelia asks Daryl, holding the fork in front of our friend’s scrunched-up face. We’re doing an emergency happy hour, with food instead of drinks. I am not a consistent stress-drinker, but I am a fantastic stress-eater.
Daryl gently pushes away her hand. “Because they taste like ass in my mouth?”
“I’m up for ass in my mouth,” I say. “I’ll take her share.”
Amelia studies me for a moment before dropping them onto my plate. “Careful who you say that to.”
“Speaking of: We should have invited Carter,” Daryl says. “He’s cute and probably freaking out just as much as we are right now.”
Daryl’s department was hit a little differently than was Features. They still have cuts, but it’s far cheaper to keep Daryl than to buy her out. She’s safe for at least another year.
I shake my head, quickly swallowing an enormous bite. “He didn’t want to.”
So far I’ve only given them the bullet points:
• Hiding in my office, worrying I was going to be fired.
• Meeting with Brad.
• Thinking I might not be fired.
• Surprise! There might only be a job here for one of you.
• And by one of you, we mean you or this new guy you want to bang.
“Didn’t you . . . ya know . . .” Daryl makes a crude sexual hand gesture, adding, “like, only a few nights ago?”
“Use your big-girl words, Daryl,” Amelia says.
“Third base,” I confirm. “And it was a holy experience. Orgasmus maximus. My bedspread and I were hoping for a repeat.”
“So, how is it going to play out?” Amelia asks. “You can’t work together and sleep together?”
“Or maybe you won’t work together at all and can still sleep together?” Daryl counters.
“Great, except for that part about one of us being an unemployed hobo. Homelessness tends to be a real mood killer.” I pop a pita chip in my mouth and chew, thinking. “We have a meeting to go over our new client lists on Thursday. And after that, I suppose we’ll operate as though we’re both working there forever, knowing that one of our contracts probably won’t be renewed. New York was brought up, but . . . I don’t know.”
Daryl blanches. “You’d move?”
“Hell no. But P&D has huge resources. I don’t want to burn any bridges until I have to.”
“And Carter has huge resources, too?” At the meaningful tilt to Daryl’s words, Amelia high-fives her.
My phone lights up on the table, and we all look down to see Carter’s name.
“Oh shit,” Daryl whispers. “It’s like he knows . . .”
I stare at it as it rings, and rings.
Amelia sighs. “Will you answer that damn phone?”
I lift it, swiping my thumb across the screen. “Hey, Carter.”
“Hey.”
Standing, I walk to a quiet corner of the restaurant, near the windows.
“How are you holding up?” he asks.
I laugh, tracing my finger along the windowsill. “I’m working my way through the Post and Beam appetizer menu, so I’m doing okay.”
Carter laughs now, too, and I realize when he does how awkward and unmirthful both of us have sounded. “Look, I was still sort of in reaction mode when you asked me about lunch and was probably a bit shorter than I meant to be. I know it’s crazy, but I don’t want this to get in the way of what was starting with us, you know?”
I nod but struggle to think of what to say in response. It’s so complicated now.
“I know,” I say finally. “You give good make-out.”
“So do you.” He’s quiet for a few breaths. “Do you think we’re competing for this job?”
“Brad sure made it sound that way. I don’t know that we need to, though. I think we can figure out how to both be indispensable.”
“Let’s just make sure we communicate,” he says. “If we stay open with each other, we’ll be fine, right?”
I squeak out a limply enthusiastic “Sure!” and after a few more small words we agree to talk tomorrow.
It feels like we’re standing on the deck of the Titanic as it goes down, saying, It’s gonna bob back up any second now.
Date: Wed, Oct 14 at 5:03 AM
From: Bradley Kingman
To: Aimee Miller; Dudley Thompson; John Fineman; Timothy Brown; Andrew Murphy; Carter Aaron; Evelyn Abbey; Rose McCollough; Ashton Garcia
Subject: Dan Printz
Flagged: HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL
Team,
I received word last night that Dan Printz is leaving his current representation at Lorimac. Anyone think they can snare him, let me know and I’ll set up a meeting. This is a $5M/year potential client for us. Evie handled his screenwriting credit over at Alterman a few years back, so I’m leaning that way. Jump in with any objections by 9 am.
* * *
Date: Wed, Oct 14 at 5:07 AM
From: Carter Aaron
To: Bradley Kingman
CC: Aimee Miller; Dudley Thompson; John Fineman; Timothy Brown; Andrew Murphy; Evelyn Abbey; Rose McCollough; Ashton Garcia
Subject: Re: Dan Printz
Let me take a shot at this one, Brad. We have a mutual friend in New York.
-C.
* * *
Date: Wed, Oct 14 at 5:08 AM
From: Evelyn Abbey
To: Bradley Kingman
Subject: Re: Dan Printz
I’m happy to keep working with Dan. He and I had a great relationship and I’m confident I could get him to move over.
Thanks,
Evie
* * *
Date: Wed, Oct 14 at 5:08 AM
From: Evelyn Abbey
To: Bradley Kingman
CC: Carter Aaron
Subject: Re: Dan Printz
Carter and I must have replied at the same time. Looks like we’re both happy to take him onto our list. Perhaps this is a good opportunity for a team representation strategy. Let’s discuss today?
Evie
* * *
Date: Wed, Oct 14 at 5:43 AM
From: Bradley Kingman
To: Aimee Miller; Dudley Thompson; John Fineman; Timothy Brown; Andrew Murphy; Carter Aaron; Evelyn Abbey; Rose McCollough; Ashton Garcia
Subject: Dan Printz
Early bird gets the worm, and good timing, Carter. Joanne just called. Dan will be named People’s Sexiest Man Alive—not announced yet. Would be a huge get for us. Carter, Kylie will set up a one-on-one meeting for you and Dan this week. Great job.
Brad
chapter ten
carter
Thursday afternoon Michael Christopher sits at a table in the courtyard outside P&D. The sun is shining overhead, the
sky is blue without a single cloud in sight, and he waits, eating his peanut butter and jelly sandwich while I pace.
Labeling the current situation “tense” would be like calling Usain Bolt “fast.” Although most of the higher-ups seem thrilled with the merge because it makes P&D this enormous conglomerate monster, the rest of us are a flock of anxious birds, eyeing one another as if we’re all plotting to not only take each other’s jobs but also eat each other’s children.
The situation with Evie isn’t any better. We went from this budding thing, to sharing one of the hottest nights I’ve ever had, to clipped conversations as we pass in the hall at work. After our conversation on Tuesday night, I figured we would band together and talk this through, but she’s been so busy with meetings, I barely saw her yesterday. All week, really.
And as much as I’d like to hope we’re starting on equal footing with Brad, I know that isn’t the reality. I don’t think I’m wrong in my sense that he really liked me, and in my read that there’s some old animosity between them, but she’s also worked for him for years. Not to mention that she has the benefit of all her local contacts. I also get the sense that she’s aligning with a group of select colleagues and setting up an artillery in this position, hoping to be invaluable . . .
But didn’t we agree we could work together?
“Can you sit down and eat something?” Michael says. “I’m going to need a Dramamine if I keep watching you.”
I push my hands into my pockets and make my way to the bench beside him. He pulls something from a brown paper bag and slides it and a Ziploc full of potato chips across to me. “Eat.”
I look down. Grape jelly, diagonal cut. “You made me lunch?”
He shrugs and takes another bite. “I knew you were preoccupied.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m guessing there’s been no update?”
I’d gone straight from work to Michael and Steph’s on Tuesday night, and in what had to resemble some sort of manic episode, I’d told them everything I knew about the merge, including the meeting where Brad dropped a bomb on us. Neither of them knew what to say, and I couldn’t exactly blame them. Hello, shitty situation with no good solution. So, after I called Evie, I decided to stay at their place for a Buffy marathon and somehow managed to eat an entire coconut cream pie.