“I’d like to see that happen.” She murmurs and we walk away from the stage hand in hand so I can leave her in the capable care of Eli’s team while I finish the show.
39
Casey
“Casey, can I call you Casey?” Rod Berman the 92.5 LAX station owner shakes my hand smiling. I’m reeling from the adrenaline of last night. Bright lights, flashy dresses and a microphone in my hand all night had me feeling my element.
“Sure.” He’s friendly in a grandfatherly sort of way so holding my hand doesn’t go down into the creepy realm like lately. His hair is frizzle grey puffs on a shiny forehead with keen light grey eyes. His suit looks like a maroon polyester throwback to the seventies and I bite my bottom lip to say nothing.
“Come, sit down.” He pulls out a chair in his office and I sit while an assistant brings me coffee. “I was hoping to hear from you sooner when we sent the media hire packet, but I guess the mail messed it up.” Sitting behind his own desk, fingertips steeple as his bushy eyebrows nearly touch his hairline.
“You mailed the contract?” My purse thunks to the floor from my lap showing my surprise.
“Oh yes, see I knew you were living with Austin. I hope I didn’t overstep anything sending it to your apartment building, but I didn’t want to risk anything going to the office. Confidentiality and all that.” His wink is conspiring and I wonder if he thinks I slept with James for my job just like everyone else. Yeah this is news to me and I wonder if James is involved in me not getting the offer packet.
“Huh, well I’m sorry there was any mix up, obviously I’m here now and happy to meet with you and hear your offer.” I can hear my phone buzzing inside my purse and I kick it hoping James gets the virtual kick in the ass he’s getting when I get back to the hotel. I strongly suspect he is behind this machination.
“Excellent. I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to pull you out from Austin’s grasp. Our offer might not be able to match your current one, but it never hurts to try, right?”
“Right.” James was going to have a lot to answer for when I get my claws on him. James’ capacity for meddling is pretty awesome leaving me little doubt as to where his responsibility in this remains.
“Here’s is our offer, conditional of course that you can start right away. The salary will build after your ninety day probationary period. The FCC still has a sanction on you.” He pushes a folder across his desk and I open it. He’s right. It’s obscenely low as offers go.
Insultingly so.
“I of course would need to mull this over. Can I take it with me?” Rod acknowledges and I get up leaving. I’m sure he wants to discuss it further, but there is no option. I can’t leave Philly to start over at less than what I made during my night show. I don’t think LA has enough dog walking jobs and personal assistant jobs to cover my losses and given that’s what most struggling actors do out here, I think that says a lot about 92.5’s sad offer.
Exiting the building, I lower my sunglasses to the California glare. An iced coffee sounds good right about now right up until I walk into a chest made of bricks and arms grasping mine to hold me up.
“Miss Cole, shit. I’m sorry.”
“Jesus, have mercy.” Clutching my bag against my chest, Ty, the newest of my two bodyguards for this trip scares me rounding the corner. I met him last night during the show. James hired him as part of my security detail while he was meeting with other radio personalities and executives. Keeping on my ass was no joke for these guys especially after my plan to ditch them while shopping with Natalie fell through. My poor co-host was nursing a massive post-show hangover. I suspected these guys were not high-end shopping savvy. Leaving them on cushy chairs in a boutique while I tried on bikini swimsuits bought me some time, but obviously not enough if they found me this quickly.
“I was following you right up until you snuck out of that dressing room.” Ty runs a hand through his hair making me think he left his cowboy hat somewhere east of Nevada.
I’m not at all feeling apologetic. “Yeah, sorry about that. Look, I won’t tell your boss if you won’t tell mine. James can be a real pain in the ass.” I locate my cellphone in my bag to see a message from James. He wants a call back ASAP and I want to cut off his balls.
“Miss, it’s my job to protect you. I’ve already called Priest to pick us up in the car.” Sure enough, a sleek black SUV pulls up and the door opens.
The man Priest, whose name I learned last night is really Nick glares at the both of us. “Miss Cole, get in the car, please.” He remains polite and I assume he’s mad I was able to give him the drop. Score one for me.
“How did you find me?” I ask.
“GPS chip in your phone.” He calmly states like I should have known that already.
“Fucking for real?” I lift the phone out of my bag ready to throw it away.
“Uh huh, now I wouldn’t toss the phone if I were you. We can take that up with Eli and Mr. Austin.”
“I’m not getting in the car with you.” I stomp my foot.
Ty leans in and says, “Please, Miss Cole. I don’t want to get fired today. Eli is in a shit mood.”
I turn to look at my young body guard. “Do you get fired often?” I ask and he shrugs trying to nudge me closer to the vehicle. People are passing by us on the sidewalk watching the exchange and making me feel uneasy.
“Get in, Miss Cole. I won’t repeat myself.” Nick ushers us both, but I can’t get myself to do it. I’m pissed at James. Royally pissed for the GPS and god only knows what else.
Annoyance fills me. “And if I don’t?”