Papa’s office was large with big windows facing Sunset Boulevard. Natural light poured into the room and showed Papa’s love for organization and order. Everything was in its place—every book, piece of furniture, and framed picture of his family.
Footsteps filtered into the office as Spencer arrived with Mr. Fellbaum.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Mr. Fellbaum said to Papa before he could speak. “Spencer is sorry, but several things prevented him from going home to change last night. He had to sleep in his tuxedo and didn’t have time to change this morning.”
I glared at Spencer. “I warned you—”
“I said yesterday would be the last day I drank.” He grinned. “And I stopped at exactly midnight.”
“Mr. Hayes.” Papa kept his hands on his desk, slightly leaning forward. “When I said to be here at precisely eight in the morning, I meant that you should be ready to start working at precisely eight in the morning. You are clearly in no position to work right now.”
“The alcohol wore off hours ago,” he said, though the aftereffects had clearly not diminished. He had large circles under his eyes and a shadow of a beard. He looked tired and bored.
“Did you sleep?” I asked.
“Who needs to sleep?” He winked. “You sleep when you’re dead.”
My mouth parted as Mr. Fellbaum turned to Spencer. “You agreed to this arrangement, so why not play nice? If you want to save your career, this is your only chance.”
Spencer motioned to me, though he still spoke to Mr. Fellbaum. “Isthisworth it?”
Papa stepped forward in my defense. “Mr. Hayes, I will not have you treating my daughter in such a casual or dismissive fashion.”
Mr. Fellbaum turned his back on us and spoke quietly, but forcefully, to Spencer.
When he was done, Spencer’s face had hardened, and he worked his jaw back and forth for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry, Miss Bennett. Mr. Bennett. I was out of line, and I apologize.”
“I will write a clause in the agreement,” Mr. Fellbaum said as he set the folder on the table. “Mr. Hayes is not allowed to touch alcohol on or off the set until after the agreement has been completed. He is also not allowed to socialize in public without Miss Bennett’s company.”
“Come on, Fran—”
“Not even for a moment, Spencer,” Frank said as he wrote in bold script.
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“And I don’t want tobea babysitter,” I agreed.
Spencer’s brown-eyed gaze lifted to mine, and I could see anger and animosity directed at me.
I crossed my arms again. I could meet his hostility with my own. I didn’t want to do this any more than he did.
“There.” Mr. Fellbaum stepped back and handed me the pen. “All we need are your signatures.”
Papa took a deep breath and shook his head. “You don’t need to do this, Ally. We’ll find another way.”
There was no other way. We were already behind on filming, and we had no prospects for Laurie. It could take weeks to find someone, and there were few actors in Hollywood with the same star power as Spencer Hayes—and even fewer who would work for free.
Besides, if I didn’t do it, Mr. Mayer would see that my career ended, and I couldn’t let that happen.
I stepped up to the desk and read the agreement quickly, thenI signed my name. My hand was steadier than I anticipated, until I turned and held the pen out to Spencer.
He stared at me for several seconds, and I could see he was at war with himself.
Spencer finally took the pen, and I stepped aside so he could sign.
“Wonderful.” Mr. Fellbaum grabbed the papers the moment Spencer finished and put them back in the folder. He rested his hand on Papa’s shoulder and nodded at the door. “Now, I think we should let these two have a moment alone to work out the details, and then Spencer can get cleaned up and we can take that first meeting photo.”
“What about filming?” Papa asked.
