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I break into a smirk. I knew it. She’s guilty of post-break-up bangs.
“There’s a drunk dialing scene?” She holds the folder up so I can see which page she’s reading.
I snatch the folder from her hand. “Stop reading it if all you’re going to do is complain about it. It’s going to be made regardless of what you think of it. Is that all the complaints you have? Or are you going to provide some actual good feedback?”
While she actuallyhasshed a decent amount of insight I plan on using to clean up the plot points, I refuse to let her know that.
She peers up at the ceiling and taps her lips with her index finger. I wish she wouldn’t do that. Not when her lips are so glossy and kissable. What an annoying thing to do.
“I don’t have forever,” I say.
“I think as long as the female lead is portrayed in a way that the audience can remain compassionate toward her in all her messiness, then all the clichés in the world are fine.”
My expression softens as I study her face. She lowers her head, her lips curling up into a reflective smile. She doesn’t say anything, but she is obviously thinking about her “messy” life choices. My lips part as the realization kicks in; what she went through was real. There’s too much uncertainty in her eyes for all of this to be one big joke. I wonder if anyone has extended some compassion toward her during this time?
“This particular female lead is quite likable,” I assure her. “I think the audience will get where she’s coming from right away.”
Mia gives me a forced smile. “Good to hear. Is that all? Can you tell me who my executive is now?”
I smirk as she waits eagerly. “It’s me,” I say. “You’ll be working exclusively with me.”
Chapter 9
Mia
“Itfeelssogoodto finally get out,” I say, taking a sip from my mocha latte.
Ava and I are sitting at the Sweet Rose Café. We’ve grown fond of this place, considering it’s a block away from both of our apartments, rarely gets overcrowded and boasts adorable rustic charms. It’s a nice little café to just sit and catch up.
I rest my chin in my palm and peer out the window. It’s a sunny yet crisp spring afternoon. It’s such a shame I had to spend the better part of this gorgeous day cooped up at Carter’s office. For someone with so many windows in there, he certainly likes to keep them closed all day. If I wind up under more fluorescent light, I think I might be sick.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this exhausted,” Ava says. She stirs her vanilla latte, completely destroying the cute panda bear the barista designed with the foam of her drink. As she removes the spoon from her mug, she’s careful not to get any coffee on her cream-colored cashmere sweater accidentally. “Is everything going okay with the internship?”
I release a big sigh. “It is going well. All the interns have their own desks in the open office space, but nothing beats a private office.”
She pats my hand. “Sorry, Mia. At least you don’t have to see Michael and Kristen every day.”
Am I grateful I’ve managed to successfully remove those two from my life? Absolutely. But after a few days at Cogswell Productions, Michael and Kristen have become theleastof my problems.
“You know, when I left Studio 42, I thought I would be escaping all the drama, but it seems there’s drama everywhere I go.”
Ava raises a single brow. “Do tell.”
“A couple of the other interns are nice, but the others are a bit conniving. I can tell they’re intentionally trying to jeopardize one another.”
That’s the problem with the entertainment industry. It’ssorare to make a genuine connection with somebody. Everyone is shamelessly trying to take you down in order to climb to the top. Veronica and Mason seem like good people now, but we’re all competing for the same position. They could turn their back on me at any moment, and I need to be prepared for when they do.
Ava shakes her head. “Ruthless savages.”
“I’m trying my best to stay out of it this time around. Most of the work I do is with Carter anyway. I hardly see the other interns.” I’ve hardly left Carter’s side since I was assigned to work exclusively with him.
“Wait a minute.” Ava crosses one leg over the other, seemingly getting more comfortable. “Carter as in the one who drove you around the citythatday?”
I roll my eyes. She says it like he’s some kind of prince charming who rescued me from a tower guarded by a vicious dragon.
Carter helped me that day, and hedidtake on a protective role when we were passing by the church. I will never forget how concerned he was for me that day. If only he stayed that way. Nowhe’sthe fire-breathing dragon I can’t seem to escape.
“Let’s not give him too much credit,” I say. Even if he isn’t here, I still don’t want to stroke his ego too much. “But yes. That Carter.”
