Chapter 2 #2
Chris’s tone is cheerful and optimistic, having no awareness of Holden’s lack of enthusiasm.
“You.”
Holden points at me and my face flushes as I lift my head up from my notepad. A bold, firm word that makes me shiver. My eyes switch between the floor and his gaze, as this is the second time he has singled me out in this meeting.
Before I can process what is happening, everyone is getting up from their chairs, except for a few stakeholders that hang back.
Holden proceeds to ask, “Tell me honestly, what do you think?”
From across the room, I know the next words I say will linger. Glancing at Chris, I wait to speak. Chris is expressionless.
Is Chris testing me? I bite the inside of my cheek. Holden settles in his chair, gesturing for me to go on with my real opinion, rubbing his finger against his lips, waiting for my words. My mouth agape, I fumble a few incoherent words before I can hear Chris’s unwelcome voice cut in.
“She’s just an assistant.”
My fingertips grip the edge of my notebook as I wait for Holden’s reaction.
“I remember when I was sixteen, doing this ridiculous shoot for some lifestyle magazine. Everyone on set was pulling the most absurd outfits and putting me in even worse poses. Think feathers and fedoras.”
“Just thinking about it makes me want to gag. After an hour of getting nowhere, my mom pointed out the styling assistant cautiously watching from afar. ‘Always pay attention to the quietest person in the room,’ she said. So, everyone here has been talking nonstop and every idea has been ass. Time to hear from little Miss Wallflower over there.”
The cold draft circulates my way; my eyes ping-ponging between Chris and Holden again.
Holden gets up from his seat, pacing frantically. “Look, she winced when she heard the book deal idea. You have opinions. Go on, be honest.”
Have you ever been peer-pressured into telling someone what you honestly think about them?
Because this moment feels like a pressure cooker for my opinions.
If I say it’s ass, Chris will fire me. He’s fired people for less.
Once, I even saw him fire someone for getting him matcha exactly how he asked for it—turns out he hates matcha and thinks it’s truly repulsive.
But if I don’t tell the truth, Holden might walk out that door and never be a client of Blackburn Press.
So, I pick the path of least resistance…
“No, it’s great. I didn’t wince. All great ideas,” I say, forcing a smile to my face. When I see Holden whisper something in Chris’s ear, everything forced falters.
The last few people in the room slowly and quietly exit without warning and I take the hint to do the same. A hand catches my shoulder on the way out.
“Be real with me,” Holden says.
Now, I am officially trapped in this room. Silence isn’t an option anymore. The man in front of me is desperate. Right now, the world sees Holden as the textbook teen heartthrob meltdown. A headline in human form. Every move he makes feeds that story.
All I can do is avoid his eyes and blurt out the question that’s been gnawing at me since the last scandal: “Why did you get into acting?”
The scandal that brought him here felt like a former teen star’s prophecy fulfilled. Cocaine. Parties. Disrespect on set. It was like he’d studied the manual for self-destruction.
He doesn’t say a word. Just crosses his arms as he leans forward on the mahogany table.
Did I overstep?
I immediately followed up the question with, “What I mean is, if you really want their help, it would be good to know your intentions.”
Maybe I’d eavesdropped on enough conversations to finally put my foot-in-mouth disease to good use.
A few awkward seconds pass and it’s a silent standoff where our eyes are locked on each other. His eyes look even greener in this light.
“I guess I like to play pretend,” he whispers.
The words echo in my head, processing that the life he loves to live is living in another character’s head.
“You clearly know what everyone says about you.”
“And that would be?”
“You’re smarter than that… Don’t feed into the easy life narrative that everyone thinks you take for granted. Be the guy that everyone sees has a passion for this game still,” I say, resisting the urge to bite my fingernails.
His jaw is wide open. It’s as if Holden has unleashed my uncensored self. Charlotte’s evil twin who I’ve been holding back for years at this firm.
His silence only makes me talk more.
“You are trying to break free from the preexisting image you had on All or Nothing. It’s not working.”
His eyes narrow on me before he gets up to admire the plaque on the wall: Blackburn Press - 2023 Innovator in Media Relations.
A bunch of similar plaques are perfectly lined up on the wall with similar bogus achievements awarded to the firm.
What game is he playing?
Getting up in the middle of our conversation to stare at a damn wall. I scribble a few more things in my notebook. It has his name at the top, today’s date and a few choice words about his personality on the page.
And without me noticing, he creeps up behind me and whispers, “Are you sure you are just an assistant?”
I straightened in my chair, trying to keep my composure, feeling my face flush again.
A loud, abrupt knock disrupts the moment. I remain seated, legs crossed, ignoring the heat building between my thighs.
Holden is already walking toward the door to greet Chris, who is anxiously waiting for us.
The meeting is officially done.
I stand up, keeping my distance as they ramble a few things to each other. I can’t hear a thing.
Watching them, probably discussing me, only makes my jaw lock up, holding this pressure that I can’t release until I see them go in for a handshake.
“Talk soon,” Holden says, looking at both of us. When he is out of our line of sight and I am about to leave the room, Chris whispers, “You know, Lena landed her first client when she was in your position…