Earth, swallow me now. “Okay, well, bye-bye, see you later.”
Slowly and deliberately, without breaking eye contact, Elliot pushed his entire slice in his mouth, then grinned wolfishly, pizza dough and tomato squishing in his teeth. Then he turned on his heel and strode off.
What was it about him that made me unable to formulatea decent comeback? What was worse, a room of my new colleagues had all heard mine and Elliot’s interaction. Cheeks burning, I turned back around and, sure enough, everyone’s eyes were full of confusion, pity and just the tiniest bit of glee.
“He rarely loses his cool like that,” a voice next to me murmured. I turned to see an immaculately dressed woman with a riot of curly hair and dark sparkling eyes. I recognized her as the person I’d clocked in the production hub when I first arrived here, looking stressed.
“That’s nothing,” I said with a sigh. “When I asked him to talk me through a scene, he said, ‘I have neither the time nor the crayons to explain this to you.’”
She snorted, her stack of hooped earrings dangling. “That’s savage. Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. Butdamn.” My new friend stuck out her hand. “Where are my manners? Michelle Obasi, publicity manager.”
“I recognize your name,” I said. “I’m Lucie Clifton, from Temper. I helped set up the teleconference interview for RJ with theSunday Times.”
“Oh yes!” Michelle nodded in delight. “You were such a darling over that whole microphone issue.”
“Please,” I demurred, although after a morning of hostility I was pathetically grateful for her compliments. “I’m a PA. That was a walk in the park.”
“Ah, tell me about it.” Michelle grimaced. “I was Tan’s PA for years before I got promoted. He’s the head of comms here, handles all publicity.”
I’d seen Tan striding around, barking into his mobile. “You must have stories,” I said.
“You know I do. If you need a dry cleaner who can get Tipp-Ex and red wine out of a bespoke Gucci suit, I’m your girl,” she said dryly.
“Impressive, but I can top that.” I smirked. “Try attendinga child’s nativity play and explaining the plot to her absent father stuck on set so he could pretend he made it.”
Michelle arched an eyebrow. “I once had to fire a personal trainer the day after her mother died.”
“Oh yeah?” I giggled. “I once had to administer extremely powerful suppository tablets to a director’s kitten for a week so she could attend Coachella.”
“Eww.” Michelle wrinkled her nose.
“Not the worst part,” I said. “I accidentally made skin contact with the medication and hallucinated that I was a Smurf all night.”
“An actual Smurf?” Michelle said.
“I was in a fully animated world and scared as hell.”
“Man, it is still rough out there,” Michelle said. “Do you do much on the publicity side for your directors?”
“I help out,” I replied. “Like escorting them to interviews and stuff if they don’t have their own publicist. I’ve done tons of brief writing, press releases, social media posts. I kind of have to turn my hand to anything at Temper.”
“Including amateur veterinarianism,” she said with a laugh. “You’re scrappy.”
“Just trying to survive out here,” I said. I liked her a lot.
Michelle leaned in closer. “You know, if you’re interested or have any time to moonlight, I’d love to have someone like you on my team. I have so much to do sometimes I can’t even breathe. Like forAll Kinds of Killing, the studio decided last minute to have a junket and a photocall within, like, a week of each other and I’m the lead on both.”
“Wow, that’s a lot,” I said. “And thanks for the vote of confidence, but I think Elliot is going to keep me busy.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
“But, seriously, thank you,” I said sincerely.
“No biggie,” she smiled. “So, tell me. What’s Elliot like inthere?” Michelle indicated our poky writing room. “He’s so cerebral … and reserved, you know? I often wonder if he lets loose when he’s being creative.”
“I hate to disappoint you,” I said. “It’s like having dialogue with a really articulate brick wall.”
“That’s quite the metaphor,” she said. “Have you seen his Tribeca movie?”
