Benedict the aspiring writer. Of course he would know a word like that.
“Fine,” I say grudgingly. My public image is important.
I run a hand along my jaw. I take after my mother one hundred percent, and that apparently means I’m too pretty for my own good. I suppose I’m good-looking, but it’s hard to be impressed with something I see every time I glance in the mirror. They say familiarity breeds contempt. In my case, it’s bred indifference.
But that doesn’t mean I’m unaware of my good fortune. It’s this face that’s allowing me to make an amazing living as a model and actor. The two Netflix dramas I starred in did well, so offers for more acting roles are flooding in.
“Also, I’m going on vacation for two months starting next Monday,” Benedict says. “Just a reminder, in case you decide to consult Aiden about the legal fine points of massacring goats, although I’m not sure if animal rights are his thing.”
“What?” I say, stunned. “Vacation?”
“You approved it last month, remember?”
“I did? Was I sober?” He might’ve sprung it on me while I was drunk. Or exhausted from late-night filming or during some six-a.m. photoshoot. There’s no way I said yes without a temp to replace him.
“Oh, quite. It was during your breakfast. You also had a cup of coffee before you approved, which I made for you and waited for you to finish because I didn’t want you to claim I took advantage. I told you I needed two months off to finish my screenplay, and you said okay.”
Hmm… I vaguely remember him saying something about wanting to win an Oscar for a screenplay. I guess that means he has to write one first. I just didn’t realize it would be so soon!
“So who’s going to be my assistant while you’re gone?”
“You told me you’d figure something out.”
“I did? I must’ve been high.”
“Nobody gets high off one cup of coffee. Anyway… You don’t have anybody in mind?”
“No.” Fuck. There’s no way I can live two months without an assistant who can act as a gatekeeper. And bring me coffee. And groceries and anything else that might pop into my head.
“Well, you still have today and the weekend.” Benedict sounds singularly unsympathetic.
“I don’t have any résumés. And I’m in Korea!”
“It’s only for two months. You just need an ironclad NDA, which Aiden has already drafted for you.”
“Oh yeah, that sounds super simple,” I say. “You know what? You aren’t going anywhere unless you get me a replacement.”
“What?”
“It’s only for two months, and you still have today and the weekend. And you happen to be in L.A.”
“Come on!”
“Less complaining, more working.”
Benedict sighs. “Fine. I’ll find someone before I leave.”
“Thank you. It wasn’t that hard, was it?”
The second I hang up, a new flight ticket pops up on my phone. I check it and sigh. The gate is at the opposite end of the terminal. Of course. At least the lounge for first-class passengers is near the gate.
I turn around and start walking through the crowd, getting the usual looks. This airport is cavernous. Well, cavernous might not be the best word—it is bright with sunlight. But holy mother of God, you could run a marathon in here.
At least the walk will give me the time to gather my thoughts. Why the hell didn’t I remember this vacation? And how is Benedict going to find somebody decent?
Argh.
Although I told him to get a temp or else, I don’t want to be that kind of jerk celebrity boss who makes him cancel his time off. I know an actress who called her assistant to get the poor woman to handle freakin’ phone calls when her mom died, and the assistant quit, which the actress deserved. I don’t want Benedict quitting on me. We work well together, and I like the guy.