Remind me to give you a raise I can’t afford.
Wild Kard
Already noted.
In bold.
And underlined.
Enjoy your flight!
The guy next to me sighs like I’ve personally ruined his flight. More like he’s ruining mine. I stare in disbelief as he peels off his shoes.
Then socks.
Gross.
Another buzz from my phone. The ringtone chimes out the Miss Gulch theme from the Wizard of Oz, and I ignore it.
It stops. Then starts again. Stops. Starts. Until the unobtrusive chime becomes blaringly obtrusive.
My shoeless bunkmate scoffs, loud enough for everyone within five rows to hear. “Do you mind? We’re about to take off.”
He’s in a fuck society T-shirt and shorts that are probably technically underwear.
Considering his enormous, hairy forearm has completely swallowed the armrest between us, I smile.
“Doors aren’t closed yet,” I say pleasantly. “When I need to hang up, the flight attendant will announce it.”
To everyone.
Another side eye from Ten Toes beside me, and I answer out of pure spite.
That, and because I’m contractually obligated to.
CHAPTER 5
Ava
Cringing, I slide my finger across the screen and lift the phone to my ear.
Her voice detonates through the line, loud enough to make the guy across the aisle flinch. “Where the hell are you?”
Almyra Crowne. One of the biggest power players in Hollywood. And a woman no one wants to piss off. Least of all me.
“Hello, Myra.”
A-listers would kill to have her as their agent. I should be more grateful. And, I am.
Just not right now. Right now, the last thing I need is a lecture delivered at jet-engine volume.
“Do you have any idea the shitstorm I’m handling?” she snaps. “You are neck and neck for the role of a lifetime, and this is a bad look. Get your ass to my office now so we can do damage control.”
As my manager, she’s clearly concerned.
Well, that and she can practically feel her 10 percent slipping through her gold-manicured fingertips.
“Sorry, Myra, I can’t make it to your office right now.”
