The Roommate Equation

“What’s up?” I cradle the phone against my ear and pop a tortilla chip into my mouth, chewing loudly.

“How’s my favorite sister?”

I laugh, almost choking on the chip. “I’m your only sister.”

He snickers. “Did Dylan tell you about our meeting with Exact Match?”

“He mentioned it.”

“We need this to go well. The deal depends on it.”

“And you want me to come babysit someone’s wife?”

“Something like that. Will you come with us?”

“It depends on the time. Vinnie has been up my ass all day.”

“We’ll pick you up after work. Dylan’s making your favorite for dinner.”

“I have a lot of favorites,” I counter with heavy sarcasm.

What curvy girl doesn’t love her food? I have my love handles to maintain.

“I’m doing what?” Dylan groans in the background, sounding more irritated than ever.

“I’ll pass on whatever Dylan’s making for dinner. I prefer my food without poison,” I joke.

“He won’t poison your food,” Sloan promises.

Vinnie clicks through on the other line, and my heart skips several beats. He’s been even more annoying than usual because of the new clients we’re meeting with this week.

“I have to go, Sloan. My boss is calling. I don’t know if I’ll be done at seven tonight.”

“Let me handle him,” he snaps.

I shudder at the threat in his tone. “Please don’t get me fired, Sloan.”

“We’ll see you at seven.”

Then, the line goes dead.

Chapter Fourteen

Ash

After I get back to work, Vinnie is in his office, yelling at two junior agents at the top of his lungs. I slowly inch toward his desk as he throws a screenplay at an agent’s head that misses his ear by a few inches. The script hits the wall on the other side of the room and pages tear off and scatter on the floor.

I attempt to collect the pages and Vinnie growls, “Leave it.”

“You,” he says to the agent. “Take that piece of shit and get the fuck out of my office. Now!”

Assuming the piece of shit is the script, I hand it the agent, who doesn’t make eye contact with me as he leaves Vinnie’s office with his head hung low in shame.

I have to remind myself of the big picture. Sitting on Vinnie’s desk for a year or two could eventually lead to better opportunities. If I work hard and write as much as I can in my spare time, I will one day write a screenplay worth showing to Vinnie. My dream is to have a Hollywood star like Nico Chase cast in one of my films. I might not be what directors want behind the camera, but it doesn’t mean I will give up on my dream.

Vinnie snarls at the male agent in his late twenties, who shoves a hand through his dark hair and stares at his dress shoes. He’s impeccably dressed, styled to perfection, and looks like he wants to crawl out of his skin. My boss brings the worst out of people, while also inspiring the best. He takes more of the Steve Jobs approach to management, yelling at employees until they perform at their highest levels. Some people crack under pressure, while the few who have what it takes survive here long-term.

“Get Sarina Lopez back in this office,” Vinnie says to the agent, “or you can pack your shit.”

The agent sighs. “Yes, sir.”

He leaves Vinnie’s office in a rush, and I don’t blame him one bit. I would high tail it out of here if I was allowed to leave. But since Vinnie summoned me, it must be important.

“You wanted to see me,” I choke out.

He tips his head to the chairs in front of his desk, and my stomach does a dozen summersaults. I hold my breath when our eyes meet, unable to read his blank expression. Did my idiot brother call Vinnie and piss him off even more? Am I getting fired because of it?

“I need you to talk to Nico again,” he says, digging his elbows into the wood as he leans forward, his dark eyes meeting mine. “He refuses to choose a script.”

“He seemed pretty interested in The Fallen Empire. What happened to that one?”

“The studio doesn’t want to cast him in the main role.”

“So, what are his options? What am I supposed to say to him? I’m an assistant.”

Vinnie shakes his head. “No, Ash, you’re more than my assistant. My clients like you. They trust you. They see you as…” He presses his lips together. “Like a normal person. Someone they can relate to.”

I laugh at his comment. “But I can’t relate to them. I’m a nobody, and they’re movie stars.”

“Nico likes you,” he shoots back. “And Nico doesn’t like many people. Please, talk to him for me. I have enough on my plate right now.”

For months, Vinnie has considered dropping Nico as a client. He’s had more than a few chances that Vinnie wouldn’t have given to most of his clients. Nico was one of Vinnie’s first clients that turned into a major box office star. Because of their relationship, Vinnie coddles him like a son instead of treating him like a professional.