Taming Hollywood's Baddest Boy - Max Monroe Page 0,12
Hollywood, but do you think, if I promise never to bring you avocado toast, you could help me?”
The silence stretches out between us like a celebrity yoga instructor in downward dog, and I’m about two seconds away from getting on my damn knees and begging.
But after another few puffs of her cig, she puts me out of my misery with a response.
“It’s a little short, but I guess I can see some potential.”
Huh?
“A little desperate. Nervous,” she continues to comment. “You portrayed those emotions pretty well. Have you been using that monologue on auditions?”
Oh, sweet baby kittens in a wicker basket. She thinks that was a monologue.
Could this be any more awkward right now? Freaking hell, this is like having to tell your kids their fish died, only to get a new one and have it croak right away. Two fucking times I’ve gotta tell Adele about a dead fish.
“Uh…shoo!” I take two deep breaths. “Okay… Adele, that wasn’t a monologue,” I confess somewhat crudely. “That was just me being honest with you. It seemed desperate because I am. Very.”
She narrows her eyes. “You’re not an actress?”
I shake my head with a sardonic laugh. “No, I’m not.”
“Well then, pardon my French, but what in the fuck are you doing in my office?”
Oh, holy hell. Make that three dead fish.
“You…you represent someone I need to get in touch with.”
She rips her glasses off her face and throws them onto the surface of her desk, and I swear I black out a little bit—just for a fraction of a fraction of a second.
“By all means,” she says irritably. “Don’t hold me in suspense.”
I choke on the frog in my throat and hope that later, when I throw it up in a Technicolor expression of my nerves, it at least turns out to be a stylish prince. “Luca Weaver.”
A loud, raspy cackle escapes her lips. “Turns out Hollywood isn’t changing that much,” she muses. “Years ago, if I’d had a nickel for every person who asked me how to find Luca Weaver, I’d have more money than he does.” She shakes her head with a mocking smile. “Let me guess. You’re a journalist.”
“No,” I refute. “I…I’m a friend of the family.”
“Bullshit. Luca Weaver doesn’t have any friends, and he doesn’t have any family. Not that he keeps in touch with anyway.”
Desperation turns to dejection, and I sink into the chair in front of Adele’s desk and put my head in my hands.
“Fine,” I mutter there before once again looking up. “I work with Serena Koontz, and I have the impossible task of delivering Luca for the lead role in her next movie or face certain career death.”
“What movie?” she asks without hesitation.
“Espionage. It’s a movie that Capo Brothers Studio just—”
“Spare me the details, doll, because I’ve already heard them. Hell, everyone in Hollywood knows about the potential and the money that movie might bring in,” she cuts me off and studies my face closely before narrowing her eyes. “Wait…I know you from somewhere else. Where?”
“Alfred’s. I was there when you were yesterday,” I admit, my voice shrinking in on itself like the melting witch in The Wizard of Oz.
She nods resolutely before inclining her head toward the door. “If that’s all you really needed, then I think it’s safe to say this meeting is done. I might be his agent, but Luca Weaver has been done with Hollywood for a long fucking time. I can assure you that nothing will bring his tight ass back here.”
Fuck. I climb from the chair slowly, turn on my heel, and walk toward her door, but just as my hand reaches out for the handle, I stop.
I can’t let this go.
I just…can’t. A woman shouldn’t have to die on her own sword, goddammit. If I’m going down, I’m going to do it fighting.
I turn around and square my shoulders. “Look,” I say, and she picks up her head again, her scrutinizing gaze hitting me square in the eye. “I know you don’t know me. You almost definitely don’t like me at this point. And I’m sure I just seem like some random crazy person, but I’m not crazy. I’m motivated. I’ve got big, almost unreasonable dreams that brought me to this town, and making a largely impossible promise isn’t going to make me leave.”
I pause to take a breath but keep going. “I can’t give up on this. I can’t accept no as the answer. Hell, Granny would come out of her grave and kill me herself