Page 2 of The Playboy
We each take our places, starting the sequence when Adam tells us to. I punch, he blocks, I block, he punches. We move around the space like we’re dancing. Everything is choreographed, down to the size of the steps I take, so I’m surprised when my fist meets the side of his jaw. The dull pain that radiates in my clamped hand is uncomfortable, but it’s not unbearable. Plus, the fact I got the opportunity to land a punch on him makes me extremely happy.
“Caleb, you can’t zone out. You get hurt when you zone out,” Adam scolds.
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He rubs his jaw and squints his eyes at me as I try not to smile in victory. “Got something to say, Tait?” he asks, annoyed.
“Payback’s a bitch.”
Chapter 2
“Thankyou for callingReel Studios,please hold.” I press the hold button and pick up the other line. “Thank you for holding. How can I help you?”
“Yeah, I need to speak with Joe Baker,” the man on the other end demands.
A please or thank you would be nice!
“Let me transfer you up to his assistant. One moment please.” I dial Rhonda’s extension and switch back to the other call on hold. “Thank you for holding. How can I help you?”
“How can I get in touch with Elena Conners?”
“Please check our website. It lists contact information on where to send fan mail to our actors. Thanks for calling.” I hang up the phone as quickly as I can and push out a breath as I toss my long, dark hair over my shoulder. I’ve been warned about these kinds of calls. Most people use Google to find the information they need, but we get a few crazies that think they’ll be transferred to the celebrity directly.It gives me the willies.
I’ve been working this temporary job for about a month now, hoping to get a break into the glamorous world of being a celebrity personal assistant. All right, I know, it’s not glamorous at all. I get coffee, water, and whatever else the star wants without any fuss. But it’s one of the easiest ways to rub shoulders with different directors and be able to watch them work—if one can find such a gig. I moved to California when I was eighteen and decided I wanted to be an actress. The only problem? I can’t act! Also, I don’t like being in front of the camera. Who knew?
When I was on my first set, I was fascinated with the cameras and the vision the director had for the movie. I knew at that moment, that’s what I wanted. So, I enrolled in a film school part-time and worked my way through with crappy temporary jobs and roles as extras. I was even in a few movies where I had a couple of lines. Most were cut post-production, or the film was never released, but I still cashed the paychecks.
That’s why I’m here now—just another ends to a means so my rent can get paid and I can find my way into Hollywood.Reel Studioswas looking for a fill-in receptionist for a woman who’s on maternity leave, and I jumped at the chance. Two interviews later, here I am. It is one of the most, if notthe mostboring jobs I’ve ever had.
I thought I would see celebrities coming and going throughout the weeks, but not a chance. Most sneak in through some kind of back entrance and only stay for as long as needed. I did get a chance to meet Caleb Evanstan once. He’s just as sexy as he appears onscreen but seemed to have a permanent scowl plastered on his face. He didn’t even glance my way. He must have had a massive hangover—he does seem to party a lot.
My cell phone vibrates with an incoming message, and I look at the screen to see a new text from my ex, Ben.That man doesn’t know how to take a hint. I roll my eyes, not sure if I should bother reading it, but open the message anyway.
Ben:Sam, I’m so sorry about everything. I miss you. Please come home.
It’s been six months! He doesn’t know when to give up. I also don’t know when to stop torturing myself and block his number—or change mine. I know from past experience that, if I don’t respond, the messages will continue. He likes knowing I’ve at least read them. It’s some sick game he likes to play. He became too attached, and I had to end things before I got in too deep.
The problem is, he’s a good lay and I’ve been known to hook up with him from time to time when the liquor is flowing. It’s stupid, and I shouldn’t do it, yet here I am.
Me:I don’t have time for this, Ben. I’m at work. Please leave me alone.
Ben:Can we meet up tonight? I would really like to see you.
Me:No. I have plans tonight with a guy from work.
All right, so it’s a lie, and he will probably see right through it.
I have the apartment to myself, and I am looking forward to a quiet evening at home with a movie and a big bowl of popcorn. Maybe even a night with my vibrating friend; guess we’ll see how where the night leads.
Emily, my roommate, left for Vancouver today to accompany Tait Flanigan on the set of his new movie. Emily and I met on the set of a small budget movie calledThe Emblemyears ago. It’s a terrible movie, and I don’t recommend it to anyone, even if you want a good laugh. The script is crap, the acting is shoddy, and the filming looks like it was done with hand cameras. The only good thing that came from it is meeting that girl.
Ben:Please, just for one drink. My treat. There are a few things I want to discuss with you.
I tilt my head back and forth, weighing the options. If I go with him, I get free liquor. If I stay home, I get a movie marathon.
I glance up and see Rose standing in front of my desk, tapping a sleek black heel on the tile in front of her, her arms crossed over her chest.
“You play with your personal phone on your own time. When you’re here, you should be engaged. Were the rules not clear when you started?” she snips.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Rose thinks she’s a big wig here because she is the executive assistant of the CEO, Kevin Bradshaw. She’s been working here since the studio opened and feels like she has the right to do or say anything she wants. I don’t want to lose my job, so I don’t say anything to her.