7. Piper
SEVEN
Piper
DECEIT CUTE
What’s a more descriptive way of saying the heroine starts to undress? Something that won’t take up too much page real estate or read like I’m trying to direct the script? She shrugs off her oversized sweater and then shimmies out of her slip dress, letting it pool around her feet. “Nice,” I say to no one, saving my draft and high-fiving myself.
I have polished this script to the point of perfection. The meet-cute is cute. The dialogue is zippy. The characters are refreshingly relatable. The second act turning point is…in there somewhere. I’ve managed to cut it down from 175 pages to 110. Now I just need the right person to read it. I need someone to fall in love with it. Preferably someone with a production deal. Or a studio. Or someone who’s Holden Archer.
I get up from my desk, stretch, and head for the kitchen to get some leftover diner pie from last night. It was so delicious that only someone who can remain a virgin while attending a Los Angeles college for three and a half years could possibly refrain from eating it all at once. But I’m savoring it. I’m savoring everything because this really might be the last December I spend in LA, for a while at least.
I stop in my tracks to adjust the bagpiper ornament on the little artificial Christmas tree I’ve set up on the kitchen island. It’s part of the Twelve Days of Christmas set Aunt Mel gave me last year. She gives me a Twelve Days of Christmas set of ornaments every year. Actually, she only gives me the eleventh-day piper ornament from each set. But she has managed to get me a different one from a different set every single year. I am actually looking forward to dinner at that crazy bird’s house this week. I’m even looking forward to the Cool Whip desserts and roast chicken farts.
Lainey is in a tank top, sleep shorts, and slouchy socks, leaning against the kitchen counter, staring at her phone as she waits for the coffee to brew and looking like every hot teenage girl who was ever murdered in a horror film. “Um. Hey, Poops? You need a job, right? Part-time?”
“Well, yeah. Sure,” I say, opening the fridge. “Flexible hours for now, ideally. Why?”
She turns to face me, finally looking up from her phone. “Okay, I want you to think about this really carefully—from all angles—pros and cons… Don’t say yes just because you’re in love with Holden Archer?—”
“Yes.”
“And also don’t say no just because my sister is awful and you’re going to hate her.”
I shut the fridge door, forgetting about the pie, because how can I eat when Lainey is going to tell me something involving Holden. “Lainey. What?”
“Okay, so my sister knows that you help me with—what do we call it? How you help me sound clever in texts with guys?”
“I text guys for you and make you sound more clever.”
“Exactly. I’ve mentioned to Shay about how you’ve been doing that for me for years, and she would like to meet you so she can hire you to text Holden Archer as her and make her sound like less of a boring, shallow B-Face. My words, not hers. She says he’s boring and she doesn’t have time for it but she needs to make this work so she can make her ex jealous.”
I have so many questions.
First of all—what?!
Also—what the actual fuck?!
Why the hell is Holden Archer texting with that boring, shallow B-Face?
How dumb do you have to be to think Holden Archer is boring?!
Is this how I want my relationship with Holden, and therefore my love life, to begin?
Would this be the best or the worst thing that has ever happened to me?!
When can I start?!
Is she going to give me her phone?
Will I have to move in with her?
How does this work?
“Are you breathing?” Lainey asks.
“Yes,” I manage to whisper.
“Because it really looks like you aren’t breathing.”
“I am. Where do I meet her? When?”
“She’s on her way over.”
“Over here ? Now?”
“Yeah. She’ll be here any minute.”
I have never met Lainey’s sister before. Which is really something, now that I think of it, given that Lainey and I have been roommates for almost four years. I’ve met her parents, but I’ve never met the actress sister. She will be the second- most famous person who has ever been to our apartment, after Eddie Cannavale, and he just stopped by to drop off Christmas presents. I look down, realizing I’m still in my flannel pajamas. This is going to be a defining moment, and I haven’t showered. “What should I wear?”
“Honestly? If you want to do this for her, it’s probably better if she isn’t intimidated by how pretty you are.”
I bark out a laugh, even though she doesn’t sound like she’s kidding. “Mean!”
“I’m serious.” She does look serious. “My sister is very insecure. Just stay in your pj’s.”
“Whaaaaat?!” I pat the messy bun on top of my head, starting to loosen it.
“Don’t take your hair down. If she sees how long and thick your hair is, she won’t trust you.”
“What are you talking about? Are you messing with me right now?”
“What are you talking about? Just don’t let on that you’re obsessed with Holden Archer. Just play it like this is transactional. Okay? I told her you’re a fan of his, but she doesn’t know you want to have his babies. But again—if this doesn’t feel right, you should absolutely tell her no.”
The intercom by our front door buzzes.
Lainey traipses over to buzz her in. “Wow. I am shocked that she actually used the main intercom,” she tells me. “She doesn’t like to press public buttons. She must really be desperate.” She unlocks our door. “Listen, my sister is really good at getting what she wants, but you should ask for a lot of money.”
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Seriously, what is happening right now?
“Heeeyyyyy,” Shay Nicholls says, holding up two fingers in a peace sign as she glides through the door in yoga pants and a matching hoodie. Her blonde hair may be thin, but it is so shiny I actually have to squint to look at her. She really is so pretty and her teeth are an unnatural glossy white—but in a good way. I mean, she does look like a nice person.
She gives Lainey the most half-hearted hug I have ever seen, rests her mirrored aviator sunglasses on top of her head after quickly pulling away from her, and scans the living room. “Oh, this place isn’t so bad. This is way cuter than I thought it would be. I mean, you couldn’t pay me to live in Westwood, but…” She finally notices me standing six feet away from her. “Oh, hey!” She holds out her hand but doesn’t walk toward me.
I guess I’m supposed to go to her.
“I’m Shay…” she says, like she’s being modest by offering her name to me because of course I would know who she is.
“I’m Piper. It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Wow, you really are cuter in person,” she says, looking me up and down.
“Oh. Thank you? What picture did you see?”
“Oh, just what’s on your Insta.” She waves her hand dismissively. “You’re so lucky you’re brave enough to have bangs. I could never.”
Mmm-kay.
“You smell really nice too. What is that, Marc Jacobs?”
“No, it’s a combination of a few things, actually.” There is no way in hell I’m telling her how to make my signature scent. “Would you like to sit down? Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, I have to get to a Pilates session. I just wanted to meet you face-to-face and get a vibe. I feel like I already know you because Lainey’s always talking about you at family dinners.” She reaches out to touch my arm. “You sound so nice and I know you need a job, so I was thinking we could help each other out.”
I cross my arms in front of my chest, mostly because I don’t know what to do with my hands as we stand here, but I guess Shay is reading this as me being guarded, because she starts smiling more and touching my arm more and softening her voice.
“So, my sister probably told you that I’m kind of a heartbroken mess right now because my boyfriend, Jonathan, broke up with me eight days ago and I’m pretty sure he’s the love of my life, but he thinks I’m clingy, so I can’t text him.”
Lainey moves to stand behind Shay so she can make googly eyes and the international hand sign for nuts . I try to keep a straight face. “Um. She didn’t tell me that part. I’m so sorry.”
Shay sighs loudly. “Well. What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger, and I know it’s just a misunderstanding and this is only a temporary break. But I need Jonathan to realize what a huge mistake he made ASAP, and he was, like, devastated that they ended up casting Holden for Zephyr instead of him, because it was down to Holden and Jonathan and another guy.
“Jonathan has been a ghost for a full week, but he liked the post of me and Holden from last night. He’s haunting me! So if Jonathan sees me with Holden at the premiere it will drive him out of his fucking mind.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It was the most amazing sign from the Universe when Holden showed up at the party last night. I had this vision of how to get Jonathan back. And anyway, I started a text convo with Holden, and it…” She wrinkles her nose. “Sparks did not fly. It didn’t go the way I’d hoped it would. But I need this to work and I remembered my sister said you always text for her. And I hear you’re a fan of his, so you’ll figure out what to say to him to keep him interested? Talk about synergy, right?” She moves her hands back and forth between us, indicating the amazing synergy of this opportunity for me to help her seem less awful in texts with the most beautiful guy alive.
Seriously, what kind of monster only wants to use Holden Archer to make someone jealous?
I smack my lips together and rub my forehead. “I’m sorry—I just want to make sure my brain is processing what you’re saying correctly… You met Holden Archer last night. You want to be his date to the Riders premiere in February to make your ex-boyfriend jealous. You had a text convo with Holden today, and you want me to continue the text convo with him as you , to make him like you, even though you find him boring and don’t have time to text him yourself?”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
My ears feel hot. Is this what being really super angry feels like? I don’t like it.
“And also, just to be clear,” I say, shifting my weight back and forth between my slippered feet, “are you even a fan of the Riders of Storm and Fire series?”
That’s when Shay’s face transforms. She looks at me, stunned, as if I have just slapped her in the face. “I can’t even talk to people who aren’t fans of the Riders series. I’ve read all three books three times.”
And that’s when I finally release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I thought if I ever did that it would be for swoonier reasons. But I guess this is swoon-adjacent since this conversation is really about me and Holden Archer.
Shay smiles at me and touches my arm again. “Okay. So we’re good?”
I nod.
“Great. I’ll be emailing my business manager when I get home. She’ll contact you about all the employment particulars, and she’ll forward a standard nondisclosure agreement that includes the confidentiality of all things personal for me. Obviously Lainey knows the situation, but you guys cannot tell the other roommate or anyone else about it. I can’t tell my business manager I’m hiring you to text with a guy for me either, obviously, so you will be hired in the capacity of my personal assistant. Lainey said you need a job, and my PAs keep quitting because they’re losers. So on top of the texting I’ll need you to do things like pick up my dry cleaning and get my groceries and run lines with me and just whatever I don’t have time to do.”
I’m pretty sure I’m smiling with my face, but despite her seemingly genuine appreciation for the greatest romantasy series ever written, I really, truly do not like this person. And I like most of the people I meet. But I would not be sad if I never had to talk to this person again.
So, on the one hand, Shay Nicholls can fuck right off.
But on the other hand…
Holden Archer.
He shouldn’t have to text with her .
Who better to text with him than me ?
And yet.
I would have to make him like her ?
So she can be his date to the second installment of the film adaptation of my favorite romantasy series?
And she doesn’t even like him?!
Am I screaming?
It feels like I’m screaming.
I look up at Shay and find her studying me. “Lainey tells me you have a rom-com script you’ve been working on…” She speaks succinctly, like a dealer passing out cards and explaining the rules of a game. “I would love to read it. My agent is actively looking for a project to attach me to because I’m in three films that are going to Sundance in January. Did Lainey tell you? It’s so insane.”
I glance over Shay’s shoulder at Lainey, who mimes shooting herself in the head because she’s so bored. “I…think she did, yes! That is so insane.”
“Right?! I’m going to be so busy I can’t even tell you, but we haven’t found that passion project yet for when people there ask me what I want to do next…”
I blink at her. “Well, I’m sure you’ll meet someone there who has something interesting for you.”
Shay rubs her temples like she’s getting a migraine.
“What my sister is getting at,” Lainey says, stepping in and putting her arm around my shoulders, “is that she would love to read your script if you do this for her. On top of paying you a salary as her personal assistant.”
“Ohhhh,” I say, trying to picture her as the female lead in my movie. She’s kind of the opposite of what I had in mind. But it’s not like I won’t write dozens of other scripts. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if Shay Nicholls was attached to one of them. “That would be amazing.”
“Yeah, so email it to me.”
Transactional.
Dammit.
I guess this is happening.
“So how would this even work? With Holden?”
“Well, first of all, you are never to text him from your own phone. Obviously. I’m not giving you his number.”
You she-beast, that’s my future husband you’re talking about.
“Obviously.” I shrug.
“Hold on, hold on,” Lainey says, holding her hands up. “I am negotiating on behalf of my client, and we have not agreed on the terms.”
Shay stifles a laugh, because Lainey is mostly studying digital media and her negotiating experience primarily involves deciding where to eat and getting out of doing chores. “Okay. I will attach myself to Piper’s script as the lead and as a producer?—”
“Piper shall also have a producer credit.”
“Sure. I mean. You do realize my agent and lawyer are the ones who are actually going to work all of this out for the script, right? We’d have to do a proper option agreement. I can pay Piper twenty-five dollars an hour as an assistant.”
Lainey stifles a laugh. “Uh, no. You will pay the Piper a weekly salary of one thousand five hundred dollars.”
“A thousand five hundred a week?!” I blurt out. Inconceivable.
“You’ll be using your writing skills,” Lainey says to me, but it’s her sister she’s really explaining this to. “And you have mad flexting skills. She’s lucky to get you for fifteen hundred a week. And by the way,” she says to Shay, “any demands you make on my client for PA work must be light and reasonable. No making her drive to Ralphs to buy toilet paper at three a.m.”
“Please. My house cleaner stocks the toilet paper. I can pay you a thousand a week, Piper. All-inclusive, no benefits, no per diem—take it or leave it.”
I have to clear my throat. “One thousand dollars a week?!”
“Take it or leave it.”
“She’ll take it for now, but if she chooses to work for you full-time once she graduates, then we will renegotiate,” Lainey says, holding a warning finger up to her sister. “And you better be nice to her.”
“Don’t listen to her, Piper,” Shay says. “ I’m the nice one.”
Wow, she really seems to believe that. “Oh.”
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” Shay hands me her cell phone. “First of all, give me your number.”
I enter my contact information into her phone and give it back to her.
Holden Holden Holden.
I’m doing this for Holden.
I am going to deceive Holden so he doesn’t have to text with someone who is totally unworthy of him.
“Oh, right,” she says, looking at my phone number. “You’re from New York. Are you going home for the holidays?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, well, I won’t need you to do anything for me here until the new year anyway probably. But we will touch base throughout the day. And I’m going to tell Holden I’m sending him an invitation to chat on Backroom. Do you have this app?” She holds up her phone and points to a yellow app with a text bubble logo. “It’s a private texting app. Download it on your phone, your iPad, your laptop, wherever. You’ll sign in with a new account I just created.” She pulls a cheap-looking cell phone out from her handbag to show me. “I got a burner phone. The Backroom account is linked to this phone number, but as long as you sign into the Backroom app with my account, you can text him as me from anywhere. Obviously don’t talk about yourself. Obviously please don’t text anyone else as me. And don’t send him any pictures of yourself telling him it’s me. Got it?”
“Yeah. Of course. Wow. Have you done this before? Had someone else text people for you?”
She rolls her eyes. “No. But I do have a few different Backroom accounts linked to different phone numbers. It’s good to compartmentalize. Anyway, I’m gonna text Holden right now and tell him we’re taking this to another app for privacy reasons. He’ll get it. Famous people do this all the time.” Her thumbs jab at her phone screen. “It’s been, like, five hours since he last texted me and I didn’t reply, so he’ll probably respond as soon as he gets this… Yup. Okay, it’s on. Sending him an invite. Did you download the Backroom app yet?”
“Me? No.”
“Okay, well, I have to get to Pilates.”
Is this really how quickly things move for some people? When do they make time to have conversations with themselves in their heads? When do they reimagine real-life people and events in the context of fictional worlds and muse to themselves about how remarkable people’s butts are?
Lainey takes my phone from me and downloads the app within a matter of seconds. She gives the phone to her sister. “Here. Sign in.”
She taps a few things into my phone, hands it back to me, and that’s it. “Okay, my handle is ShayAnything dot eighty-three.”
That’s clever, dammit.
“Have fun! I’ll be checking the conversation when I have time, from my own phone, just to see how things are going, but I’m sooooo busy and I totally trust you. Byeeee.” She puts her aviators back on and heads for the door.
“Wait…so…you want Holden to like you so he’ll take you to a movie premiere in February, but you don’t plan to actually talk to him or see him before then?”
She shrugs. “I mean, we’ll see how it goes. I might need a date for New Year’s Eve. I don’t want you to agree to a date with him for me. For now I just need to keep him interested until he’s back from New York because he sounded busy. Don’t come in too hot or anything. I mean, I’m kind of a slut, but if I was just going to sext with him, I wouldn’t need you . Just make it seem like I’m into him and create some chemistry and keep things going through the holidays, okay? Text him on Backroom—he’s waiting! I literally have to go now.”
“Got it.”
“Love you mean it byeeee!” And Shay has left the building.
Lainey shuts the door and widens her eyes at me.
We are still and silent for a beat, and then we start squealing and jumping around.
“It’s all happening!” she says joyfully as she wraps me in her arms.
“ Something’s happening!”
“I mean, yes, you’re texting him as my shitty sister, but you’re texting with Holden Archer! And I don’t know how you’re going to get there, but Piper, this is your meet-cute.” She grasps my shoulders and stares deep into my eyes. “Do you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“This is the beginning of your story. It’s going to end up the way you want it to, I promise.”
I hug her again. She is not a romantic—she really isn’t—but I can tell that she genuinely wants this for me. “Okay.”
She turns me around and starts pushing me down the hallway toward my bedroom. “Now, get in there and make contact.”
“Okay!”
I go into my room and shut the door.
I get comfortable on my bed and stare at my phone. Then I get up and go to my desk, because this is a job. I’m essentially creating a character. The character is an actress who isn’t an awful person at all. Someone who really likes Holden Archer and just wants to keep in touch with him.
Then I get up again and dab my signature scent on my pulse points. I don’t have time to shower before starting my new important job, but this is a defining moment. With Holden Archer. At the very least I have to smell nice.
I open the Backroom app. There’s a notification saying that HoldUp.76 has accepted my invitation to join a chat. And here we go…
ShayAnything.83: Hey. Fancy meeting YOU here.
HoldUp.76: We have to stop arranging to meet like this.
ShayAnything.83: Oh, but you’ll be so much more pleased to meet me on here than anywhere else.
HoldUp.76: Oh yeah?
ShayAnything.83: Oh yeah. I feel more comfortable on here. I think you’ll find that I’m like fifty to seventy percent more awesome on here than in person.
HoldUp.76: I get that.
ShayAnything.83: It’s in private backroom chats like this where I can feel free to let loose and tell you just how brilliant you are in Riders. People don’t talk about your performance enough. I mean, people talk about you a lot, of course, but your acting in that movie is underrated, if you don’t mind me saying. It’s on par with every seasoned, knighted English actor in the supporting roles. The way you convey Zephyr’s quiet strength and analytical nature in one scene, his fierce protectiveness in another. And his vulnerability when he finally tells Ember how he feels about her—I can’t even…
HoldUp.76: I have to tell you, I really am pleased to get to know this side of you…
ShayAnything.83: Good. I’m just getting started :)
HoldUp.76: Awesome. I have to get to a meeting, though. Can we continue this very interesting discussion later tonight? We don’t even have to talk about how brilliant I am, although I wouldn’t want to dampen your spirit.
ShayAnything.83: Well, you’ve already dampened something whether you meant to or not.
ShayAnything.83: Have an excellent meeting, Mr. Archer.
HoldUp.76: neutral face emoji
ShayAnything.83: I’ll be right here thinking about your Act Two monologue about how duty and honor can go fuck themselves if that means denying Ember her rightful orgasm.
HoldUp.76: three neutral face emojis
ShayAnything.83: Okay, but really go and have a great meeting! I do have several less important things to do as well. face with rolling eyes emoji
HoldUp.76: Talk soon.
Okay. That wasn’t so bad. I kind of like being me as ShayAnything.83. Or is ShayAnything.83 pretending to be me ? Or is this like self-insert fanfiction taken to the next level?!
I’m going to have to consult some diner pie about this.