Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
"I was expecting your call, boss," Shawn said. "What's missing?"
"Street," I replied, pushing the door open. I slid on my shades and crossed the parking lot. "April puts her life story on canvas with graffiti. Skip that frilly lamp by her bed, and have someone take down the fucking posters. She doesn’t read Seventeen. Have the art department start knocking everything down. I'm on my way back, so see you in an hour or so." Hanging up the phone, I unlocked the car and got in.
Back to work. The one part of my life where I always brought my A-game.
Chapter 12
When I came home late that night, I was exhausted, my neck hurt, and I was fucking starving. The loft was quiet and dark, so either Julian had gone to bed, or he was out.
With Nicky.
I opened the fridge and sniffed around the takeout containers. One had vegetarian chili from a place I ordered from a lot, and it didn't smell bad.
I plated it and put it in the microwave, and then I went through my mail as I waited for it to heat up.
"Noah?"
"Oh." I leaned over the kitchen island, seeing a sleepy Julian padding closer. "Sorry, did the microwave wake you?"
He shook his head sleepily and yawned. His flannels clung low on his hips, and he wasn’t wearing a T-shirt. He usually did.
"I couldn’t sleep," he grumbled. "Nicky snores."
I said nothing and waited for the jealousy to pass. It was completely irrational.
They'd never spent the night here before. It was easier to ignore when they were at Nicky's place.
The loft was my sanctuary, so I hadn't brought any women here. But Julian and Nicky were together. Of course they'd be here, too.
"Should I give him a talk about his intentions?" I gave him a wry smile. "You've been together a while now."
Julian snorted and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. "Are you my father now?"
"Jesus. Uncle's bad enough."
He took it as I'd intended and chuckled. "Hmm, I don't know…Daddy's got a ring to it."
I barked out a laugh. "Fuck you, kid."
"You had your chance and blew it."
Someone was feisty tonight.
The microwave pinged, and I retrieved a spoon from the drawer and found some bread in the cabinet to dip in the chili. I didn't want the moment to be over yet, so I hopped up to sit on the kitchen island.
Julian did the same on the counter, snatching an apple from the bowl by the coffeemaker. "How was work?"
"It was good. We wrapped the scenes with the kid and moved the kitchen set." Sophie had been a little peeved when we hadn't been able to cast Kayden, but the boy just wasn’t interested enough. "April's art studio and bedroom are ready. We're starting there tomorrow." I shoveled some grub into my mouth and reached for a napkin. "What about you? How're the vultures down at Variety?"
"They fired me," he said dryly.
"What the fuck?" I blurted with my mouth full. "What happened?"
He shrugged and took a bite from the apple. "My boss wanted me to gossip about Sophie."
That…yeah, that part of Hollywood sucked ass. "I'm sorry. Unfortunately, there's always gonna be someone wanting to take advantage in this town. But they didn't fire you for saying no, did they?"
"No." He quirked a sly grin. "They fired me because I accidentally fucked up a scoop about some singer."
I grinned. He was doing just fine in LA.
"That’s what they get for wanting me to betray my friends," he said with another shrug. "So anyway, I'll start a new job search tomorrow."
Goddammit.
"Julian," I sighed.
"What?"
I pressed my mouth into a tight line. He knew what. We could always use him on set, and I'd even need a new PA for when we went to Paris. My current on-set one couldn’t travel 'cause he was a single dad.
"Nothing." I rolled my eyes and swiped up some chili on a piece of bread. "I just think you're taking this independence thing a bit too far." While I chewed, he opened his mouth to argue, so I shook my head and held up my hand. "Not like that. I get it—I get why you're doing it. But where do you draw the line? Because when I'd made some connections in this town, I was quick to use them. It's how LA works." I demonstrated the ladder with my fork held horizontally. "Connections, money, talent. It's fucked, but it's how it is." I paused. "Okay, sometimes money comes first, too. Either way, it's not talent."
"No, no, I understand that," he said. "But I haven't earned you as a connection. You're family. Had I made connections at Variety, of course I would've used them, but I didn't."
Fuck that noise. I understood him, and he had a point, but he assumed I'd give him a job based on only nepotism or something. He also assumed he'd get off easy. That didn't fly with me.