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Chelsea had experience a talent agency could use, yet the last thing they needed was a scared rabbit in the office. Nicole hesitated, but Moonlight Ventures was supposed to be about encouraging people to become their best. Why couldn’t that apply to an office manager, as well as other clients?
She took an application from a file drawer. “Fill this out if you’re really interested.”
Chelsea’s expression brightened. “I’ll do it right now.”
“One of my business partners should do the official interview. He’s just here until the end of the week, so he’ll probably want to see you this afternoon.”
“So soon? I don’t, that is, I…” Chelsea looked alarmed and gestured nervously toward her face.
“Don’t worry, it’s fine. We’ve all been there in one way or another.”
Still looking apprehensive, Chelsea sat down to work on the application. The fact that she didn’t cut and run seemed a point in her favor.
Nicole walked down the hallway and, with a brief knock, slipped into Adam’s office. He was intently watching a video. Prospective clients had begun inundating them with portfolios and DVDs of amateur performances. Reviewing them was at least half of how he’d spent his time since arriving.
He glanced at her. “This one is painfully awful. It’s from the stage mama of all stage mamas. She’s in the video more than her child.”
Nicole had already known that parents who pushed their kids unbearably would be one of the less palatable aspects of working as an agent. Over the years she’d come to the conclusion that parents were often trying to fulfill their own dreams through their children.
“I have someone interested in the office manager’s position. She’s filling out the application right now and I wondered if you had time to interview her.”
“That’s fine,” Adam said. “Beats watching this and we have to get somebody hired. You can’t do everything alone and I won’t be here full-time for another two months, give or take. Not that you haven’t been doing a terrific job. Agency revenues are already higher than when Kevin owned Moonlight Ventures.”
Nicole was glad she didn’t need to explain the circumstances, just let Chelsea make her own impression. Hopefully, letting her interview was the right thing to do.
CHAPTER THREE
JORDAN STARED AT his sister in stunned surprise. “You did what?”
“I got a job. When I went looking for you at Nicole’s agency, it turned out they needed an office manager. So I applied and interviewed with Adam Wilding, who’s even more delicious in person than in his pictures. I start tomorrow.”
Her words were fast and nervous, her hands twisting together. Jordan hated seeing her that way. For a while she’d come out of the shell she’d forged to protect herself from the constant tension in the house between their battling parents, then a string of cheating boyfriends had damaged her newfound confidence. The latest, Ron, hadn’t been physically abusive, but he’d done his best to convince her that she was lucky to have him, and any issues between them were all her imagination.
Jordan sighed. His sister’s new job would complicate doing the articles for PostModern. He’d need to have a discussion with Nicole about her motives in hiring a relative of the journalist writing about her and the agency.
“Congratulations,” he said. “Shall we look for an apartment over the weekend, or would you rather stay at my condo while you get the lay of the land first?”
“I don’t need to do either, at least not right away. Nicole has a guesthouse over her garage, and she says I can rent it while I get used to the Seattle area and figure out where I want to live permanently. Your place only has one bedroom, so this is much better than sleeping on the couch and crowding you. I know Terri usually stays on your boat when she’s here, but this, uh…is best for me, I think.”
Jordan wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or grateful. For months he and Terri had been encouraging their baby sister to break things off with Ron. Chelsea had struggled with the idea—hardly a surprise with the less-than-blissful example of domestic life in which they’d been raised. She probably believed that was how relationships worked. Now, after one visit to Nicole George’s talent agency, she had a job that was twelve hundred miles from Ron Swanson.
