His Assistant - Alexa Land Page 0,11

duffle bag from me, chucked it into the closet, and propelled me out of the room with his hands on my shoulders as he said, “It’s not your job to fold my underwear, Phee.”

“You’re right, but if I leave it up to you, you’ll never unpack.”

“No, I won’t, because who does that?”

“Everyone.”

“Hardly.”

I slipped out from under his hands, then picked up my messenger bag and brought it with us to the half-circle couch. “So, I’m still working on your emails and will be for the next day or two, but I sorted out the ones from your agent,” I said, as I sat down and unpacked my laptop. “She’s waiting to hear your thoughts on several scripts she sent you. How can I help you with that?”

Harper took a seat and hugged a throw pillow to his chest as he said, “I don’t know.”

“This is important.”

“I know. But I just made three movies back-to-back, and I’m not sure where to go from here. Since my last film was an artsy, character-driven ensemble piece, my agent thinks my next one needs to be a big-budget, mainstream action movie, so my career doesn’t lose momentum. Her words, not mine. I’m not sure if that’s what I want, though.”

“Just start with the scripts and keep reading until you find one that speaks to you. If none of them are right, that’s fine, too. But a lot of people are waiting on you, and every role you turn down will need to be filled by someone else.” He nodded but seemed distracted, so I set aside the laptop and asked, “What do you think you want, Harper?”

“Some tequila.”

“I mean, out of your next project.”

There was a knock at the door just then, and he grinned at me and said, “I know what you meant. Right now though, I’m all about short-term goals, and those include alcohol.” He tossed the pillow aside and jumped off the couch, then ran to let in a pair of hotel employees with the full bar he’d requested when we checked in. Once it was set up near the dining table and we were alone again, he brought a bottle of tequila and two glasses to the couch and sat down beside me.

As he poured the equivalent of two generous shots for each of us, I said, “I’m not getting drunk with you.”

“I know you’re not. You never get drunk.” He handed me one of the glasses, then tapped it with his. “Instead, I’ll get drunk, and you can have a couple of drinks and judge me.” I took a small sip from mine, while he tossed his back and poured himself another.

When the food arrived, I picked at the fish and vegetables. Big surprise, they were pretty bland. Meanwhile, Harper savored his cheat meal. The roles he typically landed came with the expectation of a certain body type, one that required countless hours spent working out, along with a carefully designed diet that didn’t include any of the stuff he’d ordered. If he was going to fall off the diet wagon, at least he was enjoying himself.

Once we finished eating, he went back to the tequila. For such a big guy, it really didn’t take much to get him drunk. After a while, he curled up on the couch and murmured, “I’m so fucking tired, Phee.”

“Then you should go to bed.”

“That’s not what I mean. The last two or three years have been this endless cycle of filming and promoting and smiling for the cameras, and it’s wearing me down. I’m about to do it all over again too, because I have a publicity tour and premiere coming up for a movie I filmed last year.”

“You’re overdue for a vacation, so why don’t you go somewhere relaxing next weekend? You have an interview early in the week, but after that there’s a gap in your schedule before you begin promoting the new film.”

He thought about that before saying, “I bought a house in Hawaii a couple of months ago. I’d like to go see it.”

“You bought it sight unseen?”

“It was an impulse purchase. It looked nice in the photos on the real estate agent’s website, so I thought why not?”

I frowned and muttered, mostly to myself, “I hate to think how much you shelled out on that.”

“Fourteen million dollars.”

“God, I hope you’re kidding.” When he shook his head, I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from going off on a rant. There was so much he could

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