Dirty Sexy Alphas (Twenty Book Box Set) - Hannah Ford Page 0,212

he was good at doing, to hundreds of women, probably. I was just another in a never-ending string.

So I told them what I could. I told them what his place looked like. Kait said it could be a good way to show some setting for the piece.

“Sounds like his décor is as sterile and unemotional as he is about his women,” she said. I had just thought it was sleek and modern, but I supposed I saw her point.

I told them how I had to tell him that I wasn’t really trying to be an actress, and that he seemed to believe me and it hadn’t made him suspicious, even when I told him I wanted to be a writer.

“Did you tell him screenplays?” Kait asked.

“Basically,” I said.

She nodded approvingly. “And?” she asked.

“Actually, he gave me a screenplay to read. He wants my opinion.”

“Very good. So a second date, then?” Kait said.

“I guess,” I said. I certainly hoped—for the sake of the story, of course.

Kait eyed me closely. “Did something physical happen?”

I squirmed uncomfortably. I would not give details, but I knew I had to give her something. “We kissed a little.”

“Lucky girl,” Alexa said.

“How was he?” Bethany asked.

“Amazing,” I replied, despite myself. I hated being interrogated like this. It was a violation, but I reminded myself that I’d signed up for it.

“You would be amazing too, if you got as much action as this guy does,” Kait said. “Listen, Sophie, you’re off to a good start. But surely there’s something concrete we can take away from your first evening with him?”

They all watched me closely. My mind spun, trying to think of something I could give them to let me out of their scrutiny. “Oh,” I said, remembering. “He originally wanted to be a writer. He sent a screenplay to one of the studios when he was an undergrad.” After the words leave my mouth, I instantly regret them.

“Seriously?” Kait asked. “Single-minded Leo Armstrong wanted to write? How pathetic.”

“Which studio?” Alexa asked.

“He didn’t say,” I said, hoping they’ll just drop it.

“We have to get a hold of that script,” Kait said. “At least find out what studio he sent it to.”

“Look for the script that contains aliens, explosions, guns and women with no speaking roles,” snickered Alexa.

“Why do all the studio execs think that’s what we all want?” Bethany said. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Kait said, shutting up the girls. “Sophie, make sure you write all this down. Keep copious notes and save them to the shared drive so I can see your updates. Got it?”

As I left Kait’s office, I heard the girls fall into another fit of laughter, and the weak part of me felt bad for telling The Panty Dropper’s secret.

Except that’s what I’m being paid to do. Find out his dirty secrets and then expose him for the woman-hating misogynist that he clearly is.

At home that evening, I read through the script Leo gave me for a second time. I’d read it last night when I got home from Leo’s, unable to sleep. Now I went through it again, making notes and gathering my thoughts.

A video call came through on my laptop, and I smiled when I saw who it was.

“Delaney!” I said, seeing my best friend’s freckled face on my screen.

“How’s my L.A. girl?” she asked. “Have you been discovered yet?”

I smiled. “Not yet.”

“Well, hurry up so I can move out there and be your personal assistant!”

I laughed. Delaney and I had been best friends since second grade. She broke down crying when I told her I was moving to Los Angeles, and I’d begged her to come with me. “And do what?” she’d asked. “My family’s business is here. And I’m pretty sure no one in Los Angeles eats frozen custard—or fat of any kind, for that matter.”

Seeing Delaney’s familiar face after too many days of having no one close to talk to made me let out of sigh of relief. “How’s the ice cream business?” I asked.

“It’s custard and you know it.” It was a joke I always made to her. The Day family didn’t sell ice cream—they sold frozen custard, thank you very much. Her family owned a local shop called Day’s, and her father expected Delaney to expand the business from Maine down to New Hampshire, and that was plenty of pressure for a recent college graduate.

“Sell more scoops so you can come visit me,” I said, her familiar face grinning back at me. “How’s business?”

“Who cares? I didn’t call