didn’t fit the stereotype I had in my head.
All in all, it was a good party and I made some good connections for future internship opportunities in other departments.
Tuesday, Valerie and I hit the ground running, having lost a day of work this week. All was rolling pretty much like the previous Tuesday, except, midway into the afternoon, the door flew open and a clearly stressed woman barged in, and my life was sent into chaos.
“Done! I quit! That man, no—that boy is unmanageable and I will not take another second of it. He’s made his last pass at this woman! I have more respect for myself than that. Here’s his schedule,” she said, dropping a clipboard on Valerie’s desk. “He’s in his dressing room, passed out. He needs to be on set in forty minutes. I don’t even care if I don’t get paid for this past week and a half!” she screeched.
“Dana. Wait,” Valerie called to the woman who was already headed out of the door. “What happened?”
“He’s everything that the tabloids say he is. He’s a womanizer. He’s a drunk. And he’s impossible. I’ve been trying to get him over to the set for the past half hour. And for your information, this shirt did not tear itself.” She showed how the sleeve of her shirt was detached at the shoulder. “I accept full responsibility if my slap across his face left a mark.”
“I’m terribly sorry, Dana. Of course you’ll be paid for the week. And I’ll make sure there is a bonus to, um, cover your aggravation ,” Valerie said with an edge in her voice. I looked at the two women staring at each other.
“You mean to keep quiet and not go to the papers?”
Valerie wobbled her head slightly, not with a yes-nod, nor a no-shake. “That would be appreciated. But I cannot tell you to not talk to them.”
“Whatever. I have no desire to be in the public eye. Good luck.” And with that, the woman, Dana, marched out of the office.
Valerie stood. “Let’s go,” she said. “And bring your purse.”
“Go where?” I asked, thoroughly confused.
“Chase Smythe. Why casting went with him with the reputation he has…” her thought trailed off. “Although, I am sure he’ll bring the ratings in.”
I sat, unable to move. Chase Smythe? No, she must be kidding. Chase Smythe was one of my biggest all-time actor crushes. I had pictures of him from the teen fan magazines for years wallpapering my bedroom. His thick, blonde hair, his blue eyes that were nearly violet in color, and his perfect mouth. I watched every episode of James Blonde, and It Must Be Wednesday that he was in, and most recently Shore Socialites and T’morrah is Another Day. I’d seen everyone of the Hot Dogger movies he was in at least twice. He was funny and sexy and I was well aware of his reputation, the way it was portrayed in the tabloids and social media, and Dana had nailed it on the head. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to believe it or—
“Earth to Phoebe. We have to go. Chase needs to be on set in,” she checks the clipboard, then her watch, “thirty-five minutes.” She raced out of the door and I grabbed my bag then found my feet to race behind her. I was on my way to meet Chase Smythe!
Valerie, cup of coffee in hand, knocked on the door, then walked right in. I was rooted to the spot staring at the small white board mounted to the side of the door that had the name CHASE SMYTHE scrawled on it in blue marker. Was he really in there? The Chase Smythe. I wanted to follow Valerie in there, but my feet were suddenly glued to the floor.
“Okay, pretty boy. Up you go. Hope you like your coffee black,” Valerie’s voice carried through the door. A man’s groan quickly followed. I was afraid to look.
“Water, please,” the familiar voice growled. I knew that voice. It was a voice I’d heard on TV and in film for years.
“Phoebe. Can you grab a bottle of water from the kitchen?” Valerie called to me, still standing in the hall.
“Sure!” I replied. On shaky legs, I
All in all, it was a good party and I made some good connections for future internship opportunities in other departments.
Tuesday, Valerie and I hit the ground running, having lost a day of work this week. All was rolling pretty much like the previous Tuesday, except, midway into the afternoon, the door flew open and a clearly stressed woman barged in, and my life was sent into chaos.
“Done! I quit! That man, no—that boy is unmanageable and I will not take another second of it. He’s made his last pass at this woman! I have more respect for myself than that. Here’s his schedule,” she said, dropping a clipboard on Valerie’s desk. “He’s in his dressing room, passed out. He needs to be on set in forty minutes. I don’t even care if I don’t get paid for this past week and a half!” she screeched.
“Dana. Wait,” Valerie called to the woman who was already headed out of the door. “What happened?”
“He’s everything that the tabloids say he is. He’s a womanizer. He’s a drunk. And he’s impossible. I’ve been trying to get him over to the set for the past half hour. And for your information, this shirt did not tear itself.” She showed how the sleeve of her shirt was detached at the shoulder. “I accept full responsibility if my slap across his face left a mark.”
“I’m terribly sorry, Dana. Of course you’ll be paid for the week. And I’ll make sure there is a bonus to, um, cover your aggravation ,” Valerie said with an edge in her voice. I looked at the two women staring at each other.
“You mean to keep quiet and not go to the papers?”
Valerie wobbled her head slightly, not with a yes-nod, nor a no-shake. “That would be appreciated. But I cannot tell you to not talk to them.”
“Whatever. I have no desire to be in the public eye. Good luck.” And with that, the woman, Dana, marched out of the office.
Valerie stood. “Let’s go,” she said. “And bring your purse.”
“Go where?” I asked, thoroughly confused.
“Chase Smythe. Why casting went with him with the reputation he has…” her thought trailed off. “Although, I am sure he’ll bring the ratings in.”
I sat, unable to move. Chase Smythe? No, she must be kidding. Chase Smythe was one of my biggest all-time actor crushes. I had pictures of him from the teen fan magazines for years wallpapering my bedroom. His thick, blonde hair, his blue eyes that were nearly violet in color, and his perfect mouth. I watched every episode of James Blonde, and It Must Be Wednesday that he was in, and most recently Shore Socialites and T’morrah is Another Day. I’d seen everyone of the Hot Dogger movies he was in at least twice. He was funny and sexy and I was well aware of his reputation, the way it was portrayed in the tabloids and social media, and Dana had nailed it on the head. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to believe it or—
“Earth to Phoebe. We have to go. Chase needs to be on set in,” she checks the clipboard, then her watch, “thirty-five minutes.” She raced out of the door and I grabbed my bag then found my feet to race behind her. I was on my way to meet Chase Smythe!
Valerie, cup of coffee in hand, knocked on the door, then walked right in. I was rooted to the spot staring at the small white board mounted to the side of the door that had the name CHASE SMYTHE scrawled on it in blue marker. Was he really in there? The Chase Smythe. I wanted to follow Valerie in there, but my feet were suddenly glued to the floor.
“Okay, pretty boy. Up you go. Hope you like your coffee black,” Valerie’s voice carried through the door. A man’s groan quickly followed. I was afraid to look.
“Water, please,” the familiar voice growled. I knew that voice. It was a voice I’d heard on TV and in film for years.
“Phoebe. Can you grab a bottle of water from the kitchen?” Valerie called to me, still standing in the hall.
“Sure!” I replied. On shaky legs, I