Typecast by Kim Carmichael

me.”
    “Of course, your conversation is first rate.” He laughed. “Is there some trouble with Logan?”
    The woman at the desk made a huffing noise.
    Ivy wanted to give her a high five. Instead, she swallowed and tried to figure out how to tell the man what had happened without whining. “I am under some pretty substantial deadlines, and since I have not heard from Logan in several days, I have no choice but to assume he is not returning to the project.” She used several multisyllabic words—score one for her.
    “You haven’t heard from him at all?” Mr. Fleming leaned back on the desk. “Did you try calling him?”
    Not wanting to tell him everything, she took a breath.
    “She was scared to call him, but she texted several times, and then studied all of his social media to see if he posted anything, because he told her that he did all of his own stuff and not some publicist,” Giselle filled in.
    Ivy held up her hand before her friend revealed her bra size or something equally as mortifying. “It was not my job to keep track of Logan’s whereabouts. I had originally asked for Ryder or Erin and would like that promise fulfilled now.”
    “I see.” He crossed his arms.
    “Or Logan.” She hit her hand against her leg at letting it out. At the end of all the games and banter she wanted Logan . . . for the story. She wanted Logan for the story. “But only with the caveat that we keep in touch. I mean, Logan would be better for the continuity of the story.”
    “She wants Logan.” Giselle cupped her hand over her mouth as if she were telling a secret. “If you can produce him, that would be better. Ever since we saw the movie in sixth grade, I’ve heard about Logan. He’s her favorite.”
    “I understand.” Mr. Fleming cleared his throat.
    “At least he isn’t a cartoon.” Not wanting to go into Giselle’s love of an animated dog, Ivy stepped in front of her friend. Maybe she needed to take off her bra and hand it to the man. “Anyway, the bottom line is, I need one of the stars of Hollywood Stardust .”
    “Aka Logan,” Giselle interjected.
    She tried another smile, but she was sure the one she forced was not camera ready.
    “Well, as I explained when we talked before, Erin is on location and Ryder is working on his film, so I’ll have to look into this matter.” He stood.
    No. The man was supposed to snap his fingers and make someone appear. Her lungs constricted. “What am I supposed to do while you are looking?”
    “I’m sure there are many other aspects of the story to cover until then,” he said. “I have your cell phone.”
    “Do you find it a bit odd that you are the agent for the three of them?” She couldn’t walk away with nothing. “Or are you the agent for all four of them?”
    “I am quite certain Logan set the parameters of questions we would answer.”
    “He would answer,” she corrected, and decided to go for everything. “You and I had no such deal, and since we have no such deal, do you think there is a reason Logan seemed to disappear? Do you think it’s possible he isn’t available or not capable for some reason?” She only went as far as to not mention the word drugs .
    “Consider your deal with Logan my deal as well.” Once more, he held his hand out. “Let me get to work.”
    “Please.” She glanced at his hand but didn’t take it.
    “I promise I’ll call. Texting and social media are optional.” He patted her shoulder. “I have to get back to my office.”
    She watched him leave. Aside from lunging toward him and grabbing his ankles, she was stuck. “What am I going to do?” She might as well start penning her resignation letter.
    “Come on. You promised me lunch, and it’s practically dinner.” Giselle pulled her sleeve.
    “I have a place for you to try.” The woman behind the desk spoke up. “It’s new.”
    Both she and Giselle faced her.
    The woman held up a card.
    With both hands, Ivy took the offering and read the card.