The Fame Game

For the first time, in a very long time, someone wants to help me. Willow put her career on the line for me. So, at the very least, I can knock this meeting out of the park—because we both could use a win.

Chapter Fourteen

Willow

My hands are still sweating, my stomach twisted into knots as I exit Building K with Nico at my side. Now that I’m out of that room, I can breathe easier.

“I think it went well,” I lie as Nico opens the passenger door for me.

He leans over me, his fingers gripping the top of the door. His skin smells of his spicy body wash, and with Nico this close, he’s making my head spin.

“You think so?”

“He didn’t say no,” I point out. “So, I’d say you have a shot at the part.”

I hate lying to Nico. While I don’t know for sure, my gut tells me that Doug Cavanaugh brought Nico into his office to see what he was like in person. He seemed somewhat impressed, but I couldn’t help but notice how hard he was staring at him the entire time, as if he was waiting for him to screw up. They film the War of the Gods in two weeks, so I find it hard to believe they don’t already have an actor in mind for Hades’ role.

“I’m freaking out,” Nico admits before he shuts my door. He gets into the car and continues, “I haven’t been this nervous about a meeting since I was going on auditions without an agent.”

“That was a long time ago.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not that old.”

“No, you started young.”

“I lucked out,” he says with a pained smile. “I was only in LA for eight months before I met Vinnie.”

“Vinnie Sax has a gift for finding talent. He wasn’t wrong about you, Nico. You’re a talented actor, but you need to get back to the person you used to be if you want to move your career forward. No more drinking away your problems. Deal with the mess you made head-on.”

Nico glances over at me as I pull on my seat belt. His eyes fall to my chest for a split second, and then he turns his head to back out of the parking space.

“I’m not an alcoholic,” he says after a long pause. “Everyone thinks I am.”

“Every time Ash came to your house to help you, she said you were drinking. She had a hard time reaching you by phone. My boss didn’t even want to keep you at Brenton-Lake. I fought for you. Whether you believe you have a problem is irrelevant. I need you sober and level-headed. No more parties or scandalous videos, okay?”

He lets out an exaggerated breath. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, boss lady.”

“I’m not your boss, Nico. I’m your agent. This is a partnership. We are a team. If you don’t work, I don’t get paid. No one wants you to find you a job more than I do.”

Nico drives off the Firehouse Films lot.

“No drinking,” he says under his breath. “I’ll do my best.”

“The next time you think about drinking, I want you to remember the damage alcohol has caused you. I want you to remember the house you had to leave behind, all the friends and jobs you lost.”

“Damn, agent girl.” He groans. “You know how to gut a man.”

“I want to build you up, not break you down. You can’t solve a problem without removing the obstacle. For you, that’s your drinking. We need to rebuild your persona in the media.”

“You want me to do photo-ops?”

“No, nothing too drastic. It’s not like you’re not running for public office. But I have some ideas.”

He turns his head, one eyebrow raised. “You going to share this master plan with me?”

“Start with your old acting group,” I suggest. “That’s where you got your start in this business.”

“You want me to start from the beginning?”

I nod. “If you were an entrepreneur and lost everything, you would have to work your way up from the bottom. You wouldn’t get a free pass because you tried and failed.”

“Is this some kind of psychological exercise? Making me feel like shit won’t brainwash me into reverting to my former self.”

I shake my head. “No, not at all. Think of all the people’s lives you could touch just by showing up for an improv night. You’ll get free publicity from the group, and over time, it could help your image.”

“Next, you’ll tell me to move into the shitty studio apartment I lived in when I was eighteen.”

“When do you move out of your house?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Where are you going to live?”

“Aaron’s house for a few days, I guess. He’s the only genuine friend I have left. No one else would let me crash.”

“You don’t want to live with Aaron, do you?”