Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 103931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
He’s the hotshot agent who hates my guts.
I’m the (almost) one-night stand turned business rival.
Imagine my surprise when Paxton Ramsey shows up across the boardroom table.
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“We must laugh in the face of our helplessness against the forces of nature – or go insane.” ~Charlie Chaplin
PROLOGUE
Paxton
Coming here probably isn't one of my finest decisions. Despite this being part of the job, I have way too much shit to do. Standing around at a party, throwing a Hail Mary for a project that's not even guaranteed to pan out should not be on top of my list of priorities.
It's a long shot that the man who can make it happen will even be here.
Reaching into my pocket, I grab my cell and check the screen.
Fuck.
I'm waiting for a call that could help this night, and my decisions, make sense. So far, there have been absolutely nothing to give me that validation.
Go fucking figure.
I'm trying to make something huge happen for two of my clients—and me. If the stars align, this could be the big one.
The screenplay is in my hands, and the lead actor is already on board. All I need is a director attached to the project to sell this as a package deal to a studio.
We'll still need a leading lady, but with Brad Wright at the helm, we can have the pick of the best of Hollywood to play opposite him.
My thoughts are a jumbled mess of options and ideas when my phone finally pings. When I see my assistant's name light up on the screen, I just about fucking embarrass myself by fist-pumping the air.
Kevin: Stefan Linburg is a no-show. Didn’t RSVP. But since you're already there, have fun. Maybe get laid…
All the air deflates from my chest, and my hand balls into a fist at my side.
I should've known. The man is a recluse who refuses to take traditional meetings, but I had hope. Fickle. Fucking. Hope.
This needs to be pitched in person, and tonight was my best shot. Now I'm back to square one, wondering what’s the next step?
I reread the text, and a laugh rips through my chest at Kevin's suggestion. Get laid. At least he has ideas. Kevin is ingenious like that and always down for forcing me to optimize bad situations.
A good lay would do wonders for my ego at the moment.
Looking around the room, I scan the options. Most of the women here are actresses, which won't bode well for a one-night stand, seeing as I'm a talent agent.
I have no interest in shitting where I eat.
Been there. Done that. Lesson learned.
In the early days of my career, I thought I was a king on my throne. I learned quickly that I was simply a page, needing to understand my role and play the part. After being burned, I left Hollywood, relocated to New York, set up shop, and have since become one of the leading talent agents in the city.
My clients are on top of the world, and I simply oversee their climb. Making kings and queens behind the scenes. I'm fine with it. I'll ride that train all the way to the top of my station and rake in the money that comes along with it.
I decide to cut my losses and head home to lick my wounds instead of a random pussy.
That's when I see her.
Who the hell is that?
She’s breathtaking.
With long, blonde hair and the face of a goddess, I can’t pull my gaze away.
She flashes an infectious smile at anyone in her vicinity, and I'm fascinated. It's hard to make out the color of her eyes, but I strain to see. Searching her face, I try to determine who the beauty is but come up short, which is a great thing.
She would be the perfect distraction for the night. No strings. No expectations. No complications.
I almost groan when she turns her back on me to talk to some asshole who’s grinning down at her like a lunatic.
I should probably save her from the Jeffery Dahmer-wannabe, who's looking at her like his next meal.
I'm altruistic like that.
Her hair spills down her back, and her off-the-shoulder dress gives me a peek at her creamy skin.
I can't take my eyes off her.
This has potential.
It's not often that these sorts of events lead to options that won't impact my job. Add to that the fact I was immediately intrigued when I saw her. Typically, I'm forced to endure painful conversations with women who are so full of themselves that it takes one—or ten—drinks for me to tolerate them.
I haven't said two words to this woman, and somehow, I know it would be a fun distraction. Something to pass the time.
The question is, would she be up to the challenge?
I smirk because I know that this is a game I'm sure I can win.
No time to waste, Pax. Get your ass a-movin'.
It only takes a few long strides before I place myself in front of the idiot monopolizing her time and boring her to tears if her yawn is any indication. She needs to crane her neck to look up at me. Even with the heels she's wearing, I still tower over her.