Crushed (Crystal Brook Billionaires) (56 page)

“There’s the boss fucker!” Eryk gleefully shrieks.

“Ugh,” I groan. “Someone lock me away. I’m a menace to society.”

“How was it?” he grins.

I clench my teeth. My lower lips starts to tremble, but I hold back the tears. Eryk’s mood instantly changes, the smile falling from his face.

“Damn,” he whispers. “That bad?”

“No,” I sob. “That’s not it.”

Crystal wraps her arms around me and leads me to the couch.

Ten minutes and a glass of cheap whiskey later I’ve told them the whole story, including as much as I can remember of mine and Simon’s conversation.

“Oh, girl.” Eryk shakes his head and leans back into the cushions. On my other side, Crystal reassuringly rubs my arm.

“We’ve all done it,” she says.

“Screwed your boss up against a window?” I sadly joke.

“Hooked up with people who weren’t good for us. Just because your hormones match up doesn’t mean everything else does.”

“You know what I think?” Eryk asks. We both look at him, and he pauses for dramatic effect. “He was trying to show you how much he cares.”

I groan. “That’s what I thought for about a millisecond, but no, he wasn’t. That man
can’t
care.”

Eryk leans towards me. “Yes, he can. It’s just hard for him. Sydney, look at everything you’ve told us about the guy. His dad hates him; he grew up in boarding schools; his one serious relationship failed. He doesn’t know how to show he cares because no one taught him how.”

I think about that one. It’s what I already suspected but was kind of afraid to believe. If it is true, then there’s still hope for him to
learn
how to care and show it.

Right?

“Wow,” Crystal says. “That was good. You should be a therapist or something.”

I pull my legs up and wrap my arms around them. “Even if that’s true, it doesn’t matter. All that matters are a person’s actions.”

Neither one of them responds.

“Right?” I ask, looking between the two of them.

Crystal feebly shrugs. “That’s what they say. I don’t know. Maybe he just needs some encouragement. People who act so harsh are usually the ones who have been really hurt. But you probably know better than I do. You’re the smart one in this apartment.”

“Hah,” I bark. “Hello? Boss fucker here, remember?”

“But seriously,” Eryk says. “How was the sex?”

With a groan, I drop my head to my knees. “The best I ever had.”

O
n Monday, I warily hang my backpack on the hook, glancing around the office. Chuck yawns into his hand and Daniel rubs his face as he struggles to sit up straight.

Dana loudly claps her hands together, making everyone jump. “So,” she announces. “Mr. Mulroney had to go away on a last minute trip. He’s probably going to be gone all week.”

Of course he is.

The guys whoop and Dana glances at me, sharing a look the other two don’t notice. My shoulders slump and I take a seat.

I’m unhappy when Simon’s here and I’m unhappy when he’s not. I just can’t freaking win.

Dana scoots her chair over to mine. “How was your weekend?”

“Great,” I lie. “What did you do?”

“Went to the movies with my friend Amy. That’s kind of it.”

I play with a pen laying on the desk. “Where did Mr. Mulroney go?”

She lowers her voice even more. “He didn’t say.”

“Oh.”

It’s her job to know exactly where Simon Mulroney is at all times. Which means it’s probably not a “business” trip at all. He just can’t bear the thought of coming in and seeing my face.

I grit my teeth and push back the pathetic dry heave threatening to come up and sneak a glance across the room. Chuck and Daniel are too busy on YouTube to pay any attention to what Dana and I are doing.

“His trip doesn’t have to do with work, does it?”

She lightly shakes her head. “No. He called it ‘business’, but it’s not. I know about everything going on, and nothing needs his attention outside of L.A. I think he just wanted to take a vacation.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“For what? For stirring things up?”

I nod.

“Eh. Whatever.” She shrugs. “It doesn’t put my job in danger, and that’s about all that matters to me.”

I fumble with the pen, accidentally dropping it on the floor.

She straightens back up. “You want to get to work?”

“Sounds good.”

Anything
sounds better than sitting around worrying about my personal life.

Busy work almost helps. In the midst of emails and phone calls, I actually manage to make it through half the morning without Simon on my mind. When the phone rings near noon, Dana gives an unexpected response.

“She’s right here,” she says into the receiver. “One moment, please.”

Ice shoots through my veins and I stare at her. “Who is it?” I ask, hoping it’s Simon and also praying it’s not.

“It’s David Mulroney’s assistant.” She hands me the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Miss Andrews? I’m Steve Tiff. I work for David Mulroney.”

“Hello,” I repeat.

“Mr. Mulroney wanted me to call you about a job opportunity.”

My head begins to spin. “Which job?”

“It’s about a production assistant spot on the back lot. On
The Dawn Companion.”

“Oh.” I search for words. “Um, that’s nice of him.”

“He wanted to make it clear that you don’t have to take it. It’s just an offer. They can easily find someone else to fill the position. Mr. Mulroney was taken with your enthusiasm when he visited the office, and he thought you might like a job on set.”

“I would love a job on set,” I admit.

Dana watches me, absorbing the conversation.

“Great. I’ll email you the call sheet for tomorrow.”

“Wow. That fast?”

“They just lost a PA this morning and need someone right away. Mr. Mulroney told production that once something was available, they should call us.”

“What about my job here?” I quickly ask. “I can’t leave it last minute.”

“Mr. Mulroney is taking care of that as well. I’ll send a temp in to replace you.”

“Okay,” I rasp.

“Great. I’ll let Mr. Mulroney know you’re taking the position, and that production should expect you on set tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I repeat, more of a broken record than a human being.

“Have a great day.”

“You too.”

He hangs up and I slowly hand the phone to Dana.

“What was it?” she asks.

“David Mulroney got me a PA job on set,” I say, processing the information as I present it.

Her jaw drops. “Why did he do that?”

“I guess he could tell how much I liked being on
The Dawn Companion
last week, so he got me a spot on it.”

“Oh.” Dana looks slightly disappointed. “I’ll miss you.”

It’s the sweetest thing Dana has ever said to me, and I’m touched. “Thanks. I’ll miss you.” And I meant it.

“But no one else here, right?” she whispers, her eyes darting towards Simon’s office door.

I exhale loudly. “I think it’s for the best. I need to… separate myself.”

Dana nods. “Makes sense. So when do you start?”

“Tomorrow. A temp is coming in to cover for me.”

She twists her mouth. “Simon Mulroney won’t like this.”

I turn back to my computer. “I don’t care what he likes or doesn’t like.”

*

I’m up at four a.m. for a five thirty a.m. call time. My stomach is a ball of nerves after a restless night of only half sleeping.

As I greet the sunrise with a drive to the studio, I can’t help but wonder what Simon will think when he comes back from his trip and finds me gone.

Maybe he’ll be relieved to have me out of his life once and for all. Mulroney Pictures is pretty big. We might go years without having to run into each other, especially considering I’ll be running around on set with other members of the lowest rung.

But it’s where I want to be. It’s where I belong. It’s what I dreamed of when I walked across the stage and accepted my diploma this spring. The best way I can think of honing my own directing skills is by watching the film making process first hand. Not being distracted by a man is just a bonus.

And that’s what I plan to keep telling myself.

I drive to the designated parking lot where nearly a hundred other cars are. I printed the call sheet out and have it securely zipped up in one of my bag’s side pockets. The first thing I need to do is report to the head PA, someone named Emily. After that, who knows what I’ll be doing. My work on set might prove to be even less glamorous than the cleaning and envelope licking I’ve done in the office. One time, I worked on an independent film where my job was to make sure the hierarchy of set was well observed — mainly meaning it was up to me to ensure the extras went to the porta potties instead of the cast and producer bathrooms.

I highly doubt it can get much worse than that, but who knows.

After asking around, I find Emily near craft services. Breakfast is just getting set up for the morning, the first few crew members arriving. Emily is a strong looking girl a few years older than me. She’s friendly but to the point. She gives me a walkie talkie and assigns me the task of working with an assistant from the casting office signing in the background actors for the day.

Which means I’ll be at a table doing paperwork… Which means it’s somewhat similar to my job working for Simon.

At least it’s not as bad as it could be. I’m not being sent out to get the director’s favorite energy drink or standing in the parking lot keeping an eye out for paparazzi. I still have hope for getting to set. Someone will have to ferry the extras back and forth between holding and set, and that could still very well be me.

I spend the entire morning at a folding table with a kid named Henry, signing people in and answering questions. When we break for lunch, the actors and crew have already eaten and gone back to work, so I don’t get the chance to do any schmoozing there. Henry is fun, though, and so are the few background actors I sit and eat with. Everyone is in a good mood, happy to be working on a big action film for the day. We eat in the cafeteria and then go back out into the sunshine to spend more hours waiting to be called to set.

When Henry gets the word on his walkie talkie to bring a dozen extras to set, I practically wave my hand in front of his face. He’s been working on sets for years and is more than happy to sit down while I ferry everyone over.

The set for the day is inside one of the sound stages. It’s supposed to be the innards of an alien space craft. I take the extras to it and stand out of the way to watch while the assistant director picks them out and positions them. The two lead actors are in the scene today, and I have a fly on the wall view of the whole process. From where I stand with the grips and makeup people, I can see Miles working with the actors, sometimes catching snippets of their conversations.

We get five whole hours on the set, then break for dinner. After the meal we’re back, shooting for another four hours. By the time the day ends, my lower back aches from standing on the sound stage’s hard floor most of the day.

I help Henry sign out the extras, then hand in my walkie talkie to Emily. It’s almost eleven p.m. If I was still working in the office, I’d be curled up in bed by now.

I would also be driving myself crazy with fantasies of Simon.

But not tonight. Tonight I’m sore and worked to the bone. I’ll take exhaustion and twelve plus hour days any time if it means not only getting to be on set but getting to forget all about my worries — even if the new job doesn’t come with a pay raise.

Some things are just priceless.

*

The next two days are shorter but equally tiring. I seem to be stuck on background duty for the week, but it’s not too bad. After we get everyone signed in, there’s not much to do other than wait around to go to set. I meet a lot of interesting people in the hoard of extras. Other than the actors, there are a lot of writers, artists, college students, and retired folks either looking to make a few bucks or just do something fun and exciting with their time.

On Thursday, I get home around eight and collapse onto the couch. Crystal sits on the floor playing a racing video game. She keeps her eyes trained on the screen, not so much as glancing at me.

“Hey,” she says, turning her whole torso to the side as she navigates her race car around a curve.

“Ugh.”

“Tired?”

“Yeah.” I stretch out my aching calf muscles. “But it’s a good kind.”

“Cool. So the job is fun? Damn it!” She shakes the controller. “I lost.”

“It’s awesome.”

She turns around to face me. “No drama there, huh?”

“None that’s personal… or none having to do with
me,
I should say. I saw the assistant director scream his head off at the unit production manager yesterday. But I’m getting the impression that might be normal.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Yikes.”

She still looks at me but seems hesitant to say more. I haven’t talked about Simon since Saturday, since acting like he doesn’t exist helps me forget he actually does.

“Soooo…”

“I haven’t talked to him,” I automatically say.

“At
all?”

“He’s been gone. On some trip. Even Dana doesn’t know where he went.”

“Maybe to his secret, private island.”

I sit up and groan. “That might be funny if it weren’t for the fact that he probably really can afford to buy his own island. Where’s Eryk?”

“In his room. He said he doesn’t feel well.”

“Again?”

She rolls her eyes. “He just ran, like seven miles. Which is way more than he should. I told him he needs to work up to it.” She lowers her voice. “He’s also not eating right.”

“What do you mean? He eats. I see him.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think he’s eating enough of the right things, like fruits and whole grains.”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

She looks sullen. “I have, but he’s not listening. He thinks he needs to lose weight for the next drag show.”