Page 16 of Burn the Script

She might as well gut me with a meat hook and hang me from the rafters to bleed out. Knowing Miguel doesn’t sleep around brings me some comfort, but even he’s capable of rebelling against his principles and jumping into bed with someone. If he does, there’s nothing I can do about it, and my feelings for him won’t change.

“I’ll leave his dating life alone, but I plan to go full throttle in my pursuit.”

“No one expects anything less from you,” she says, patting me on the knee.

I narrow my eyes. “That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

“Take it however you wish.”

What I wish is for Miguel to unblock my number so I can talk to him while I’m in Texas. Free time will be hard to come by from now until filming wraps in March. I’ve bulldozed through every obstacle to accelerate my career, but I never thought movies would stand between me and what I desire most in the world.

Ignoring the heft of Carmen’s stare, I brush my thumb across my bottom lip. “Is there any chance he’ll come back to me?”

“Yes, but he won’t make things easy for you.”

I smile for the first time today. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from him.”

“Well, then…” She scoots forward on the chair, and her lips curve into a mischievous grin. “What do you need me to do?”

The first-class flight attendant gestures toward the main cabin door. While the other passengers are stretching and collecting their belongings, I sling my backpack over my shoulder and slip out of my seat. One positive of keeping clothes in two houses is having the ability to travel light.

A side exit on the jet bridge leads me to the VIP car that will escort me from the Austin airport. My shoes have barely touched the tarmac when I secure my earbuds and dial my manager, Jonathan Reed.

He answers on the third ring. “You want to scale back the interviews.”

“That’s what I said.”

I had texted him before my flight took off from Burbank, informing him we needed to discuss my media schedule. He likes to make a fuss when I spring things on him, but he enjoys the thrill of the unexpected.

A driver in a black suit and hat opens the car door for me. I mouth a “thank you” and switch the call to video once I’m in the privacy of the back seat.

Jonathan leans toward his laptop, giving me a close-up of his scruffy grey beard. “How many do we need to cut? The PR team got two more requests on Friday.”

“All of them. I’ll do The Starlight Show, then I’m taking a break.”

Between filming five days a week and spending weekends pursuing Miguel, plus travel, I won’t have time to spare for interviews and pandering to the press. As it stands, I’ll need to squeeze in extra work on the plane and cut down on my sleep schedule. Production won’t end once the cameras stop rolling each day, not for me.

He stares over the rim of his reading glasses, unmoving. I check my phone signal to see if we’ve lost connection. A few more seconds pass before he taps his fancy, engraved pen on the desk.

“Interviews are free promotion, Graham.”

I raise an empty hand he can’t see. “There’s nothing to promote yet.”

“Free publicity, then.”

“Don’t need it or want it right now.”

He grunts and glares at something out of frame. Jonathan’s in his late sixties and has worked in the movie business for longer than I’ve been alive. He spent a decade as a talent agent before transitioning into management. I got lucky when a mutual acquaintance referred me to him. Jonathan keeps his roster small, choosing clients based on personality and potential. If he invests his time and expertise in someone, he wants to be damn sure his efforts aren’t wasted.

“A month ago, you asked me to fill your schedule. Now you’re asking me to clear it. What gives?” he asks.

“Something came up. A personal matter.”

His bushy eyebrows pull together. “Do I need to get involved?”

“Not yet.”

“Before you do anything drastic, give me a heads up. I don’t like surprises.”