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The Lawyer (The Dalton Brothers 1)

Page 40

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Kendall

Five straight days of filming, and I finally had a Saturday off. It was time to get some extra sleep and do laundry and get caught up with life. Since we shot at multiple locations each day, running home in between, I was constantly changing my clothes and getting glam done, and my apartment had definitely taken a beating. Clothes were all over the floor of my closet, shoes hadn’t been put away, and my kitchen counters held the remnants of every snack and meal I’d tried to scarf down until I ran out of time and had to leave for the next shot.

I’d always been so neat and tidy.

I didn’t know what the hell had happened to me this past week.

After making a full pot of coffee and filling the largest mug I could find in the cabinet, I threw on some yoga pants and a tank top, twisting my hair on top of my head to get started on the kitchen. Not having a single moment to cook, everything I’d eaten since I’d moved in was takeout. There were delivery boxes everywhere in addition to the empty wine bottles from when my costars had come over, water bottles, and granola bar wrappers.

I finished the dishes and organized the condiments and leftovers in the fridge, making a list of everything I wanted to pick up from the grocery store. I left the list by my purse, so I wouldn’t forget it, and I went into my room to attack the laundry.

I separated the piles and carried them down the hallway to the laundry room. There were several machines, and most were available, so I loaded the colors into one, the whites into another, and while I was putting the towels into a third, there was someone whispering behind me.

When I’d walked in, I remembered seeing a couple standing in front of the dryers, folding their clothes on the closed lid. The sound had to have come from them.

I finished dumping in the soap and turned around, waving once I made eye contact.

They waved back, and the woman said, “Are you Kendall Roy?”

I was surprised to hear my name. “Yes.”

“I thought so,” she said. “I’m Elizabeth, and this is my boyfriend, Doug. We live five doors down from you.”

I smiled. “Nice to meet you both.”

“We saw you filming in the lobby the other day,” Doug said. “When is the show going to air?”

“It’s a big surprise, even for us.” I tossed the now-empty laundry bag over my shoulder. “I think they’re afraid we’ll tell everyone, but I’m hoping it’s in the next couple of months.”

“Doug just opened a mobile detailing company,” Elizabeth said. “You know, maybe you could mention something about it on the show or give him a shout-out on social media?”

“Elizabeth—”

“What?” she said as she looked at her boyfriend. “The girl’s about to be super famous—she practically already is. Can you imagine what that could do for your business?”

Another thing I’d noticed about this town: no one was afraid to ask for favors.

“Give me one of your cards,” she said to Doug.

He reached into his wallet and removed a business card, and she came over and handed it to me.

“All of his info is on there. We’d really appreciate whatever you can do for us.”

I checked out the logo and website, and when I glanced up, she hadn’t moved, her expression telling me she was expecting an answer.

“All of the products mentioned on the show are paid placements,” I told her, tucking the card into the top of my yoga pants. “But I’d be happy to send your info to the studio, and they’ll get in touch.”

She laughed like I’d said the stupidest thing she’d ever heard. “We can’t afford what they’re going to charge. What about your social media?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Or are you going to connect me to your publicist, so she can tell me how much your fees are?”

Is this what celebrities deal with every day?

I was just an entry-level reality star, and I still couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

I turned to the washer again, pouring in the fabric softener I’d set in between the machines, and when I faced her, her hands were on her hips.

“So?”

I took a deep breath. “I’ll see what I can do.”

I was walking toward the door when she said, “Can you give me an approximate date?” She smiled. “I’d like to keep an eye out, so I can make sure to share your post.”

When I glanced at her boyfriend, he looked appalled, silently apologizing for her behavior.

“Congratulations, Doug,” I said to him from the doorway. “Starting a business is no easy feat, and I wish you the best of luck. When I have a minute of downtime, I’ll reach out and book you for a detailing. My car could certainly use it.”

Before Elizabeth could say another word, I went back to my apartment, phoning Charlize the moment I got inside.

He answered with, “Morning, sugar.”

“I have a question for my LA expert.”

“Talk to me.”

“When you have the tiniest bit of fame—I’m talking miniscule amounts, like myself—does everyone and their mother come out of the woodwork and want something from you?” I slumped into the couch, kicking my feet onto the coffee table. “I just got cornered in the laundry room by a not-so-nice girlfriend who would have given her soul for an Instagram plug. P.S. I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet.”

“One, don’t ever walk out the door until those suckers are polished and minty. And two, yes. Be prepared to hear it all. People have zero shame in their game.”

“Ugh.” I buried my head in the fluffy throw pillow. “I liked it much better when people asked for favors because they genuinely needed them. This whole what can you do for me because you have social media followers is too much.”

“It’s just getting started, baby.”

My eyes rolled. “Everyone keeps saying that, and it’s somewhat terrifying.”

“We’ll get through it, promise. How was the club last night? I tried to make it, but I was so tired when I got home from the photo shoot that I took a bath and climbed my perfect ass straight into bed.”

I laughed. “It was fun—drank, danced, the usual. I wish you had been there. I certainly missed you, and the girls did too. They love you.” I peeled myself off the couch and went into my room to make the bed.

“Now, I really wish I had gone. What’s on the agenda for this evening, Miss Fabulous?”

I finished pulling back the comforter and fluffed the pillows, heading into the bathroom to clean the counter. “Nothing. Doesn’t that sound glorious?” I tossed a handful of makeup-coated tissues into the trash. “I’m going for a long run, finishing up my laundry, going to the grocery store, and cooking something yummy, followed by a Netflix marathon of something worth bingeing.”

“I’m coming over.”

I paused, the trash bag half-tied in my hands. “Really? That would seriously make me the happiest.”

“Then, why didn’t you just ask, silly girl?” I heard a honk in the background. “I just hit all kinds of traffic. I’ve got to run. I’ll see you around seven.”

Before I hung up, I said, “Can’t wait.”



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