Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“Sounds fun,” I mused.
“She’s not having the kind of fun you did.”
I swallowed back my rising anger that said I didn’t need this shit after the week I’d had. “Can’t all be that lucky, I guess.”
“We’re moving her out to New York in a few weeks,” he said on a sigh. “Can’t believe she got into that fancy art school up there. Nothing I said could convince her to stay in LA and be smart about it.”
I’d almost forgotten that Taylor had gotten into The New School. That she was actually going was even more shocking. That my dad, who had ridiculed me for going to UCLA and getting what he considered a useless film degree, would let her go. I had no idea how they were going to afford it. The school alone had to be fifty thousand dollars a year. Not to mention paying to live in New York City.
“That’s…wow,” I stammered out.
“Will you look out for her?”
My eyes rounded. “What?”
“You know…you have that job. Where you do…whatever you do,” he said evasively, not meeting my eye.
“I’m a publicist.”
“Yeah, that. You keep people out of trouble. Taylor isn’t used to the big city.”
“She grew up in LA, Dad. She’s going to be fine.”
“LA and New York are different.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine. The last thing she’ll want is me interfering in her life.”
Because Taylor didn’t get me. She didn’t want to.
“Just promise to check in on her every once in a while. I’ll feel better about her being out there.”
I shrugged. “Fine.”
“Here you go,” Ashley said, appearing then with a Coke for me and my dad. “I heard you talking about Taylor. It’ll be so good, knowing that you’re close by.”
“Yeah,” I said softly.
“When do you move back?” Ashley asked.
“Um…actually, I’m not sure. That was…part of why I was here,” I said, taking a sip to clear the cotton in my throat. “Josh and I are getting a divorce.”
Ashley’s jaw dropped open. “What? Why?”
My dad just stared at me. As if…he’d guessed all along that it would come to this.
I stared right back at him. “I found out that he was sleeping with someone else. And I don’t suffer cheaters.”
He had the decency to wince slightly at the words.
“How awful!” Ashley said. She pulled me into a hug and dragged me over to the couch. “I am so sorry. Tell me everything. You must be a mess.”
The last thing I wanted to do was powwow with anyone about the demise of my relationship. But Ashley was sincere, and she wouldn’t tell anyone. So, I divested myself of the information. Let her coo over me like the mom I’d always wanted. Then after I drained my Coke, I made my excuses and got the hell out of there.
My breaths came out unevenly when I was behind the wheel. This time had been worse. So much worse. My dad was exactly the same, and no one saw it but me. Worse yet, Taylor would be in New York. I was not looking forward to having my recently graduated baby sister in the city. Or the promise I’d made to look after her.
* * *
An hour and a half later, after driving through fucking horrendous traffic, I parked in front of Poise PR. I’d signed up with Poise the minute I graduated from law school at Columbia. When I’d gotten my film degree, I’d thought that I wanted to be a director. But then quickly realized that held no sway with me and decided I’d get a JD and become a film agent. After interning with a very well-known agency the two summers of law school, I realized that wasn’t what I was interested in either.
Then one of my friends from film school, Lanie, landed a lead role in a small movie. She came to me, sobbing, because they were pushing her around. I went in with all the overconfidence and bluster I could muster and got everything she wanted and more. Lanie was my first client. And I’d brought her with me to Poise when I decided being a publicist was as natural as breathing.
She was probably going to kill me if she found out I was in LA and didn’t see her.
But the City of Angels felt like it was stocked full of demons tonight. And I wanted out as soon as possible.
I beelined for my office. I wanted to grab a few things before I saw my boss, Margery. She had started as a receptionist at another well-known agency, worked her way up to partner, and then left to start her own agency. She had been working in the industry for thirty years and was a bit terrifying.
“Knock, knock,” a voice said, stepping into my office.
“Winnie,” I crooned. “You look as amazing as ever.”
And she did.
Winnie was my closest friend in the agency. She was taller than me with perfect black locks and light-brown skin. She’d grown up in London; she was of Indian descent and had the most incredible accent. She was also a total basket case, cutthroat, and did whatever it took to get ahead.