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When we finally arrived at the party later, she didn’t seem to mind that she looked freshly fucked.
Elle Christensen Books and Bio
I’m a lover of all things books and have always had a passion for writing. Since I am a sappy romantic, I fell easily into writing romance. I love a good HEA! I’m a huge baseball fan, a blogger, and obsessive reader.
My husband is my biggest supporter and he’s incredibly patient and understanding about the people is my head who are fighting with him for my attention.
I hope you enjoy reading my books as much as I enjoyed writing them!
CHECK OUT MY BOOKS HERE!
Landon and Grace
Copyright © 2022 Andie Fenichel
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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One
GRACE
Why me? I hate Christmas. I used to love it, but ever since I moved to California to pursue a film career, I can’t stand the joy and family-centric frolicking while my family is all the way across the country in Roseville, New Jersey. I miss my enormous family. I miss my mom’s home cooking. I’m burned out. For the first time in five years, I actually planned to go home for Christmas.
Then, yesterday, I got a call from Heart and Soul Studios, and they need me to work on a film they’re putting together on short notice. They didn’t actually say so, but I had the distinct impression that if I declined, it would be my last job with the studio.
So, I called my mom, told her I’ll be home after the new year, and I brought my Grinch face to work on December 19th.
The production meeting takes forever, but basically breaks down to Julianna, the owner of Heart and Soul Studios, going on and on about how great the movie is going to be. She saidThe Naughty Listwill be this year’s feel-good, breakout film. I think I even heard something about how the writer handpicked us all.
When the director complimented me during the meeting, I fiddled with my camera and waved. That will have to be good enough.
On days like this, we arrive before dawn, and by noon, everyone has put in what most people would consider a full day. I love working on films. I love being a camera operator. Normally I wouldn’t care, but after being bullied into working over the holidays, I’m pissy.
All the holly and fake snow on set annoys me. The overly bright, everything is beautiful, storyline aggravates the shit out of me, and I just want to quit. Who watches this crap? If I’m honest, I used to love romantic holiday movies. Those days are gone.
As we wrap up the morning, the only bright spot is the lunch aromas making my mouth water. A lot of the food services have all healthy food for the sake of the actors and the California vibe. However, I smell Italian food, and I’m ready for some carb loading.
Before lunch, I need to get the morning rushes squared away and over to editing. I barely speak to anyone, even though I know most of them from other projects. Small talk isn’t my thing, and there’s no way anyone wants to hear what’s going on in my head.
Bah Humbug!
To be honest, no one looks too interested in a chat anyway. I’m probably sending out the do-not-disturb vibe pretty well. Once I get everything delivered and make sure the director and editor are happy, I head to the break room.
A couple of people leave, looking happier than I’ve seen anyone look since we arrived this morning.
I still smell sauce and cheese, but nothing’s left on the table, and no one’s around. Even the coffeepot is empty. “Damn it.”
At least there’s a one-cup alternative coffee maker. I pop a pod in, wait for coffee, then sit with my head balanced on my hand and my elbow on the table as I sip. I’d be more comfortable on the long couch, but my misery demands the hard metal chair. Penance for bad choices.
Maybe I closed my eyes for a minute. When I open them, a very masculine hand slides a plate full of baked ziti and meatballs, a buttered roll, and a side salad in front of me.
I snap my head up. Landon Scott’s familiar smile takes my breath away.
He places a napkin, fork, and knife on the table next to the plate. “I saw you heading down to rushes.” He shrugs. “I saved you a plate.”
