22. Piper
TWENTY-TWO
Piper
SHOULD TROLLED ASSISTANTS BE DISTRAUGHT
New Year’s Day
I awaken to the sound of “Dreams” by The Cranberries, as always, and it’s all in my head. Stretching out in bed, I find myself sore in places and ways that I have never been sore before. And I like it.
But I also find myself in bed alone.
I sit up and look around. Everything’s blurry, because I took my contacts out before going to sleep. I have to get out of bed to get my glasses from my handbag, which is…somewhere. I’m wearing Holden’s sweatshirt and sweatpants as well as my very long socks and yet another ridiculous pair of thong undies courtesy of my roommate. That must be what’s making me feel uncomfortable—the thong. As I make some adjustments and put on my glasses, I realize I can hear music from the TV in the living room.
The power is back on.
But I don’t see or hear Holden when I shuffle out of the bedroom and look around. He isn’t in the living room or the bathroom or the kitchen. The song on the music channel changes to “Both Sides Now” by Joni Mitchell. The really sad version from Love Actually .
Oh shit.
It’s a sign.
“I can’t believe this is happening!” I cry out to the Universe and Aristotle, the god of story structure and demon of third-act breakups. “Nooooooooo!”
I feel weak. I lie down on the floor. I’m too sad to cry, even.
And then I hear footsteps on the porch. And then the front door opens. “What happened?”
It’s Holden.
I bolt upright. He’s all bundled up in his coat and scarf and gloves and a knit beanie that makes him look even cuter somehow. My HEA is back. “It’s you!”
“What are you doing on the floor?” he asks. And then he looks over at the TV. “Oh God. You thought I abandoned you.” He kicks off his boots, puts a big paper bag down on the table by the door, pulls off his gloves, and picks up the remote to change the channel. Now there’s jazzy, upbeat instrumental music playing. “So you know this is a romantic comedy,” he says with a wink.
Suck it, third-act breakup!
You are banned from the book of my life.
He saunters over, holding his hands out to me, and lifts me up. “Did you not see my message or the note I left you?” He hugs me.
“No,” I say sheepishly. “I just woke up.”
“Well, I realized I still don’t have your phone number, so I sent you a Google Chat message telling you that I was walking to the nearest restaurant, which thankfully is only fifteen minutes from here. It stopped snowing, by the way. They say the highways will be cleared later this afternoon and then they’ll get to the roads.”
Well, now I’m sad again. I guess that means we’ll have to leave.
“But we’ll stay until tomorrow, right?” he continues, rubbing my back.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Where’d you leave the note?”
“On my pillow, of course.”
I run back into the bedroom and find the note, written on the back of the receipt for the pastrami sandwich from yesterday.
Good morning, beautiful.
Yes! I have always wanted to wake up to a Good morning, beautiful note!
Happy New Year. Again.
FYI I only watched you sleep for, like, three minutes, and then it started to feel creepy. You’re really cute when you sleep, though.
I’m going to walk to the nearby restaurant to get us breakfast. Don’t freak out and think that I left you, okay? That’s not going to happen.
I like you.
--Holden Everett Archer
And then he drew a fat upside-down heart next to his name.
It looks like a butt.
If this isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.
I fold up the note and put it in my wallet because I’m going to put this in my diary when I get home, or maybe start a scrapbook.
Then I grab my phone from the dresser. There is a Google Chat notification from Journal Guy as well as a whole bunch of text notifications.
Journal Guy: Hi. I left a note for you on my pillow. Read it.
Journal Guy: PS: I like you. Happy New Year.
I skip out to where Holden is pulling take-out containers out of the paper bag and placing them on the dining table. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I press my cheek against his back and say, “I like you too. Thank you for the heart butt.”
“You’re very welcome. I got you Earl Grey tea and two slices of pie.”
The tip of my nose gets all tingly and I make a little kitten sound. “You did?!”
“Yeah, I remembered that ShayAnything said her favorite breakfast was Earl Grey tea and leftover diner pie. I figured that was you, since there’s like no protein in apple pie.”
Do hearts literally sing?
It feels like my heart is singing “Love on Top” by Beyoncé.
And then I look down at my phone.
So many texts.
DAD: Hey, sweet pea. Just checking in. Happy new year. red heart emoji
ME: HNY Daddy! All is well. The power went out for a while last night, but it’s back on now. Stopped snowing and the roads will be cleared tonight. We’ll be driving home in the morning. Love you! three red heart emojis
LAINEY: Hi. Please tell me that the snowstorm was not the only thing you got slammed by last night. smiling face with horns emoji
ME: A lady never tells. partying face emoji salsa dancing lady emoji face with three hearts emoji
SHAY: HNY, Piper! peace sign emoji
SHAY: Hope you had an AMAZING time at my cabin with my BF.
SHAY: I will not be paying you for your “work” yesterday. Feel free to sue me if you have a problem with that.
SHAY: You better return all my stuff to Lainey. In perfect condition. I will invoice you for any and all damages.
SHAY: Also, you’re FIRED.
SHAY: And if you tell anyone, ESPECIALLY Holden, about our arrangement re: Backroom I will end you.
SHAY: Oh, also, I won’t be producing your little script.
SHAY: But I will be telling everyone how embarrassingly awful it is.
SHAY: And so, her Hollywood career was over before it began. Sad trombone.
SHAY: And no, I will not be writing you a reference letter.
SHAY: peace sign emoji
“What? What’s wrong?” Holden puts his hands on my shoulder.
I lower my phone and look up at him.
He cups my face. “Are you gonna cry? What happened?”
“It’s Shay.”
“What did she say? Did she fire you?”
I sigh. “Yeah, but that’s not a big deal.”
“Can I see what she wrote?”
I show him the texts. “I’ve just never gotten texts like that from someone before—that’s all.”
“What a twat. Sorry—that’s what my mum would call her. What’s this about your script?”
I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s have breakfast.”
“Yeah, let’s have breakfast. But also tell me about this script of yours that Shay Nicholls was going to produce.”
“Did you bring back eggnog from the restaurant? Because I’m pretty sure you’d rather drink that than read it.”
“It’s a romantic comedy?”
“Of course!”
“Well, if you wrote it, then I want to read it. Do you have it on your phone? I’ll read it right now.”
I can’t stop smiling. I might never stop smiling. “I mean, I brought my laptop with me, so you can read it on there.”
“Go get it! Let’s make this a working breakfast!”
“Really?”
“You gonna make me beg to read your script? Because I will. You do realize that Shay Nicholls is in no way capable of ending your career, right? Tell me you know that.”
Just as he says that, another text comes in.
SHAY: You will NEVER work in this town again.
Holden looks up at me after reading the message and says, “Can I please text her back as you and call her a twat? I mean, the irony alone would be so high-level.”
I can’t stop laughing. “No! She’s my roommate’s sister. I have to be civil.”
“Well, that’s a shame. I do have to be civil too, I guess, since we’re at the same agency. But I need to know that you know that one angry actress who isn’t even a household name can’t prevent you from succeeding as a screenwriter. If that’s what you want to succeed at.”
“It’s what I’ve always dreamed of succeeding at. And Shay is in three movies at Sundance this year. And she’s been doing a lot of self-care lately, so she’s probably feeling very powerful.”
That makes him laugh. He hugs me. “Get me that script immediately. I want to read it.”
I’ve been in the bedroom by myself for over an hour, trying to read an issue of Sunset magazine from 2013 that I found. I was so nervous watching Holden read How We Got Here at the table that I finally left. I don’t think he even noticed. He was so engrossed in it. I’ve heard him laugh out loud a few times, which is encouraging. But he’s been very quiet for the past twenty minutes.
My heart starts racing when I hear him simulate the static sound of a PA system turning on in the other room. “Piper Puckett? Please see Holden Archer in his production office immediately for a brief and very important professional meeting. Thank you.”
Here we go…
I poke my head around the doorframe and see him sitting at the head of the table, behind my laptop, tapping his feet.
“Hi, it’s a holiday,” I say. “Are you saying you’d like to meet with me right now ?”
“Yes, immediately means now , Ms. Puckett.” He drums his fingers on the tabletop.
I stroll over to him, wearing his sweatshirt and sweatpants, one hand grasping the opposite arm behind my back. Stopping beside where he sits, I shrug and say, “Yes?”
“I think I’m going to need you to text Shay to let her know that she does not have permission to shop your script around. Just to be clear. Because I want to send her a text to let her know that I want to be attached to this script. As the male lead. So I can get a studio to buy it for me.”
“Whaaaaat?”
“Yeah, I don’t know if you know this, but I’m the star of the highest-grossing movie of the past two years and the twenty-seventh highest-grossing movie of all time, with another blockbuster releasing next month. If I attach myself as the star of this script I’m pretty sure a studio will buy it. I can’t guarantee it’ll get made, but they would pay you for it. And my people will do whatever they can to get it into production—it might just take a while.”
I am smiling so hard it feels like my cheeks are going to melt off. “You would do that? For me?”
“Screw doing it for you—I’m doing it for the world. I would be so damn charming in this. Can I be Henry?”
“Well…I mean, I did write this part with you in mind…”
The surprised look on his face is priceless…and unexpected. “Did you really?”
“Yeah. I’ve had you in mind for every male lead I’ve written for the past three years. I know of five other students in my classes who wrote scripts for you for their assignments. You’re kind of a big deal.”
“No wonder Henry’s so smart and likable.”
I smirk. “But I would totally age up the character if Zac Efron wanted to do it.”
“Hey, I can act circles around that bozo. Has he ever played a guy with silver flecks added to his irises in postproduction? No, he has not.”
“He would look better with gold flecks.”
“True. Seriously, can I send a PDF of this to my agent? She’s been trying to find a rom-com script for me to star in forever, and I’ve turned down every offer. She would love this.”
“Okay, well, I also wrote Henry’s brother with Eddie Cannavale in mind, just so you know.”
“Really? Rita is Eddie’s agent too.”
“What?! You have the same agent as Eddie? Since when?”
“Forever. She’s the only agent I ever signed with.”
“I can’t believe I’ve been connected to you through Eddie all this time.”
“How are you connected to Eddie Cannavale?” He sounds wonderfully and comically jealous and possessive of me, and I don’t hate it.
I stop myself before saying I’m connected to him through the Holy Grail of Butts. “He’s my aunt’s husband’s brother. I was there when he married his wife, Birdie!”
He looks so relieved. “No shit? Has he read the script?”
“No, it never even occurred to me to ask him to read my scripts. Is that weird?”
He smiles and reaches out to squeeze my arm. “That, like so many other things about you, is refreshing, actually.”
“Ask me again if you can send my script to your agent.” I turn away from him and pull the sweatshirt off over my head.
“Piper Puckett, can I please send your script to my agent?” I let the sweatshirt drop to the floor and turn back to face him. I’m wearing the tiny crop top that Lainey packed for me. The one that says Yes, sir. across the front. The one that exposes a lot of very professional underboob.
Holden’s jaw tightens. His nostrils flare. Under his sweater, I am sure his nipples are hardening. “We’re gonna take this meeting into the bedroom.” He stands up so fast, the chair he was sitting in falls over. He picks me up and slings me over one shoulder as I squeal and giggle. “You’re wearing that to the Winds of Change premiere next month, by the way.”
“Am I going to that?”
“Yeah. As my date. I’ll be sure to let Shay know when I text her later.”