Free Hollywood Girls Club by Maggie Marr Page B

sushi, albacore sushi, and California rolls from patches of bare skin. The wasabi and soy sauce sat (thankfully) off to the side.
    Jessica smirked. Nothing like presentation … or flouting one’s conquests. She suspected that Mike must have slept with at least five of the six models.
    “Jess, Maurice was phenomenal,” Paul Peterson, the head of Summit Pictures and the guy financing the film, the food, and Maurice’s $17 million fee, shouted over the music. “This thing is going to make barrels of money. We really want to do Maurice’s next film,” he said, pointing his chopsticks at Jessica. “I have the perfect script for him. I’ll send it over to your office tomorrow.”
    “Sounds good. But you know Maurice’s next two slots are filled. He’s booked for a year.”
    “Jess, I promise when you read this script you’ll push the other two films. This is a fantastic script. You are going to want Maurice to do this film.”
    “Who’s producing?” Jessica asked.
    “You put Maurice in it, and we’ll get whomever he wants,” Paul said.
    “What about Lydia Albright?” Jessica asked.
    “After what I saw tonight, anything you, Maurice, or Lydia want. Did you see her dress down that little prick Arnold? She was fantastic!”
    Jessica sipped her Diet Coke. “I was standing right there.”
    “I wish he’d get that bug out of his ass. That feud he thinks he’s got going with Lydia is old news. Arnold isn’t going to hold Lydia back—she’s too good, always has been.”
    “I agree,” Jessica said.
    “If Arnold isn’t careful, some other studio may offer her a deal on their lot that she can’t refuse.”
    “I doubt Lydia would be opposed to that,” Jessica replied coyly. “Her overall deal at Worldwide is up after the first of the year.” Jessica glanced across the room. Lydia was talking to Douglas Thomas, the A-list star whose last movie had tanked. Lydia was brilliant. She got them while they were vulnerable. Lydia’s so good and she doesn’t even realize it , Jess thought.
    “I can’t believe Robinoff gave Arnold that job. What was he thinking? Well, bad news for Worldwide is good news for Summit.” Paul bit into his albacore tuna sushi. “Hey, isn’t that Holden Humphrey over there with Josh Dragatsis? Holden’s your client, right?”
    Jessica lifted her brow. “Yes. Looks like I better shoo away a pesky little bug. Send me the script.”
    Jessica watched Josh Dragatsis lean in and whisper to Holden. She was pissed. Where were CTA’s junior agents who had been assigned to cover Holden at this event? Every A-list star was supposed to have a minimum of two agents surrounding him or her at premieres so just this sort of thing never happened. Where the fuck were they? She hadn’t spent the better part of her reproductive years working her ass off just to stand back and watch while a pissant baby agent from a B-level shop hit on one of her highest-paid stars.
    “Holden, my love,” Jessica purred, strolling up and putting her arm around Holden and kissing his cheek. “Josh, trying to convince my star that he should work for free on your little independent film?”
    “Nah. Just talking football. Well, that and strip clubs. You a fan, Jess?” Josh asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
    Every female agent’s Achilles’ heel: football and strip clubs. You could get the star, put the star to work, hone his career, build his résumé, increase his quote … but never , as a female agent, would talking about football and strip clubs with one of your male stars (and male stars were the ones with the longest shelf life and the highest quote) ever sound legitimate.
    “Not I. Me, I just like to shop for expensive shoes. But Tyler and Zane, now, they are agents at CTA who I think indulge.” Jessica waved her hand, and as if by magic two of the most beautiful (noncelebrity) men appeared. Holden’s CTA covering agents for the evening. Jessica smiled at them both, but her eyes were cold steel.