Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
“I didn’t say that.” I didn’t think I had to. It is called The King Takes a Bride, which is perfectly fine if we’re talking about a Broadway revival of some fifties musical. But no. This is a reality dating show complete with a whole bunch of hot tubs I will be responsible for ensuring get cleaned.
I kind of want to cry.
“Of course it’s dumb, and I don’t know what the executive producer has over the king’s head that he felt he needed to do this,” Jess says. “His Majesty Reginald Lucannon St. Marten of Ralavia is gorgeous and has a crown on his head. He’s not known to be wild. Of course, it’s not like he’s Prince Harry. I think there are three hundred people in his country, so it’s not surprising the press isn’t all over him.”
“It’s around a hundred thousand,” I correct, though she’s right about the tiny principality not being big in the news cycles. I remember there being some kind of flooding in that part of Europe a couple of years ago, but otherwise I suspect it’s all castles and cobblestone streets and tons of tourists.
“Anyway, I wonder. The man is stunning, and if he’d been lucky enough to be born in a country that mattered, he would have been on the cover of every magazine, celebrated for his royal blood and a nicely made six-pack,” she says with a sigh.
I raise my brows.
She shakes a well-manicured finger my way. “That is not harassment or sexualizing him. He did it to himself when he posed for all the publicity photos.”
“I haven’t seen them.” The truth is I could do this particular job in my sleep. My nightmares. I haven’t studied up on the king because I don’t need to know more than what kind of drinks to order for him and if I will have to keep his drug dealer away from the set. I know that sounds crazy, but I’ve had to in the past. Like I said, most people underestimate me, but I know my way around some unsavory situations.
“Well, you should. They’re fabulous. The king himself is…not what I expected. He’s an interesting man. Not that it matters. You won’t be around when the show comes out,” Jess promises me. “Ani, you’re my best producer. Do this for me and I’ll green-light your movie. The silly one about… What was it about?”
“It’s the story of one of New York’s first woman firefighters. Her life and struggles.” It is my dream project, and it certainly isn’t silly. It’s about empowerment and the fight against discrimination in the workplace.
Jess’s surgically perfected nose wrinkles slightly. “Could she be fighting aliens?”
I growl. It’s an alpha sound I’ve worked on over the years since no one takes a small blonde woman seriously in my business until they catch sight of our three rows of teeth.
Not that I’m like that in my normal life. I’m a regular young woman. I try to be nice and kind to everyone around me, and if they cross me, I will bury them and no cop will look in my anime eyes and think me capable of murder.
Sometimes the patriarchy works in my favor. Not that I want to give up bodily autonomy and equal pay just so I can murder someone a little more easily. But for now I’ll take what I can get.
“Fine.” Jess has her hard negotiator expression on. “What’s the budget?”
I can do it for ten million, but she’s sentencing me to six weeks of dealing with women who think they are going to end up being queen. It will be spray tans and claws, and I will hear the words “the right reasons” so many times. “Fifteen.”
Her eyes narrow like she knows exactly what I’m doing.
I sit and wait. Like she taught me.
Don’t show a minute of your emotions, Ani.
“Fifteen,” she agrees. “And you’ll be fast-tracked. If you get this done, I might even be persuaded to tell publicity they have a slightly larger budget.”
She really wants this.
I wish I could talk to my friends, but I know what’s at the end of this conversation. I won’t be able to explain why I’m taking a crappy assignment. Ivy has her own issues and won’t question it. She’ll be all “rah-rah, girl power,” but Harper likes a mystery, and, even more, she loves to point out when things are going wrong.
Still, I’d like their advice, but I’m not going to get it.
I’m on my own. “I’ll do it.”
Jess smiles like she would have gone to twenty.
She wouldn’t have, but I give her a frown because it’s always good to let the boss think they’re still in control.
“One more thing, dear,” she says, sliding a stack of papers my way.
Yep. There’s the very long and binding nondisclosure agreement. My mouth is going to have to stay closed. But my eyes will be wide open.