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If there was a time for her to take a break, it wasn’t now.
But, Sarah obviously didn’t agree, because she was shaking her head even as April was woefully shaking hers. “We can manage.”
“We can’t,” April argued, a little dumbfounded by not only the suggestion but the prospect. A break? What the hell was one of those?
“We still haven’t found an extra assistant; never mind the other five vacant positions we’re trying to fill.” They were so busy, they were running around like headless chickens most days trying to get shit done.
They were both workaholics; having learned that to get a job done right, they needed to handle the minutiae themselves. While they did delegate the larger jobs—though they were dedicated, they’d leave the puke-clearing and condom-discarding cleaning roles to the housekeepers on retainer—they were on call 24/7, and micromanaged their lives to make sure their every client was accommodated.
A break was…
Well, Sarah might as well have started speaking in tongues.
Her best friend had barely taken a week off for her honeymoon. Her goddamn honeymoon. Yet she was talking about April taking some time just to chill?
April squinted at her BFF, then down at herself? Did she really look so pitiful that she looked in dire need of a break?
Sarah waved a dismissive hand, one that batted away any and all of April’s arguments—shit, she really must look like crap.
“You know as well as I do that I can manage. Just like, if I was feeling like you are, you’d manage. We might only be friends, April, but you know deep down we’re sisters.”
Sarah’s brow came together into a small crease, “I hate seeing you like this, and I just think…a break will do you good. What with Andrew and now Mike?” April grimaced at the memory of her other cheating ex. “You just need a breath of fresh air. Some time to get your shit together. It will do you good, and when you’re back, you’ll be ready to rock n’ roll once more.” Sarah’s face relaxed. “Let’s face it, we’ll need you firing on all cylinders when Percussion start using us more.”
They were both aware the new contract meant a hell of a lot more work, but as it was also, technically, a step up, they could hire on extra staff to deal with the workload.
If they could both stop being too damn fussy with the applicants, they’d have had four new assistants rather than just the two they’d found thus far. Finding good people was so hard, they’d downsized from their original plan to hire four, and settled on three.
The new members of the team had been hard enough to eke out from the slush pile of shitty applicants that had arrived at their door. Some of them were new to the glitzy land of LA, hoping and praying they’d come into contact with the rich and famous, others jaded and with degrees that meant they should be psychoanalyzing somebody somewhere, not arranging a celebrity’s laundry collection.
Overqualified was just as perilous as underqualified they’d learned.
Still, Sarah’s assertion touched April. Her hand flopped out wildly as she sought her friend’s fingers. Her eyes were blind with fat tears as emotion had her hiccupping, “I love you, Sarah.”
“I know, sweetheart. I love you too.” Sarah caught her flailing hand and stopped it from flying around anymore—probably wise. Accidentally giving Sarah a black eye was not the kind of compensation her friend needed as a thank you for such an act of kindness. “That’s why we need to get you back on top. A short break will help, you’ll see. Plus, if you want, you can shove in some work to the schedule if you want.”
“Huh?” April blinked. “How?”
“I got a call today from Natalie Bayeau’s PA.”
April had long since ceased to be impressed at how many A-Listers’ names they both could drop, but Natalie was one of their most famous clients.
She was also a major pain in the ass.
Natalie had been a catwalk model with middling success. Then, she’d met Jason Bayeau, a movie producer, who’d taken her from the catwalk to Hollywood. She had five movies under her belt, one that had just reaped her an Academy Award. If that wasn’t enough to make her ego humongous, her husband had just dumped her for a younger model—because twenty-eight was old in this part of the world—and Natalie’s raging ego had morphed into bitchdom.
She’d always been hard to please, but now? She made a fucking nightmare seem like a walk in the park.
Almost everything she asked for had to be personally vetted by either April or Sarah. She was fussy and her attention to detail for a woman so vapid came as a continuous surprise.
“What did she want?” April asked, scowling at her. April didn’t like Natalie. Drunk April thought Natalie needed a good kick up the ass to dislodge the stick shoved up there.
The woman thought having an Academy Award made her God’s g
ift or something. It was irritating as hell.
“She wants to go to Greece. Specifically, a Greek island for her upcoming vacation. I found this cutesy little villa, and I managed to arrange for a short trip there. I just know she’ll love it. It’s so private, she can’t not. And after the whole rundown with the paparazzi over Jason’s cheating? It’s exactly what she needs. Hell, maybe if she has a break too, she won’t be such a pain in the butt.”
“Is the villa a part of a hotel complex? Or is it a private home?” April demanded, the haze of alcohol having ceased to fog her mind now she was focusing on business.
