Free Claire Voyant by Saralee Rosenberg Page A

like to be almost thirty and not remember the last time someone gave you a goddamn break!
    â€œYou have no idea what it’s like to put yourself out there year after year, literally hang your heart and soul out to dry, only to be overlooked, underpaid, stood up, felt up, compromised, criticized, lied to, shit on, laughed at, disregarded, denigrated, shunned, stunned, fondled, fooled…and believe it or not, I’m one of the smart ones.
    â€œIn high school I was in National Honors Society. Did you find that out on the Internet? I have a degree in theater, I’ve tested amazing for three sitcom pilots, I’ve done a dozen commercials, modeled since I’m fourteen. I’m funny, I’m beautiful. So I don’t need to standhere and listen to some flaming fag who is never going to be anything more than a lover’s gofer tell me that my time is up and I should go home until it’s time to be wheeled out for the Old-Timers’ Game.”
    Pablo bowed his head. His lower lip trembled.
    â€œOh my God.” I burst into tears. “I am so sorry, Pablo. I swear I didn’t mean to say that. I was having a hormonal meltdown…. My meds wore off….”
    Pablo wouldn’t even look at me. Apparently I wasn’t finished groveling.
    â€œIt’s been the most awful day…. I’m still so crazed from what happened to me on the plane…. Such a dear, sweet man, and then boom, there’s a dead guy on my lap…. And you have no idea how nervous I was to meet Raphael. And did I mention how depressed I’ve been since moving back home? Every morning I wake up in my old room and think, this has to be a nightmare ’cause they never even bothered to buy a new mattress, so every night I’m sleeping in a ditch. And the bedspread is still the same crappy one my mother bought at Alexander’s, which I knew, even as a kid, came from the clearance bin…. And I think, how did this happen to me, Claire Greene…most likely to be a huge star? Washed up at twenty-nine.”
    Pablo dabbed his brow with his pinky, miraculously regaining his composure. “What can I tell you, hon? Some days are real mood-crappers.”
    â€œMore like some years are real mood-crappers. But that is no reason to pick on a nice person like yourself…. Please forgive me, okay? Otherwise, I swear, I’ll march right over to the nearest Baskin-Robbins and buy the biggy size banana split with the hot fudge.”
    â€œLet’s just drop it, okay?” He faked a smile. “I get where you’re coming from. I was merely trying to give you a heads-up. Raphael is a very sensitive man who doesn’t take well to people going batshit on him.”
    â€œMe go batshit?” I laughed. “Never! But tell me this. And I’m asking only out of curiosity. Why can’t he keep the help?”
    â€œAre you loco? The man’s a whack job. Brilliant, but completely ferkahct. All day long he screams, he carries on, he can’t ever find what he’s looking for, and it’s always your fault—”
    â€œPablo!” The booming voice practically made the windows rattle. “These aren’t the comp cards I wanted. And where the hell are yesterday’s call sheets?”
    â€œComing, Raphael.”
    Who would be crazy enough to work for this maniac? I thought. But to be nice, I said, “Wow. He speaks perfect English.”
    â€œLet me guess.” Pablo rolled his eyes. “You were expecting Ricky Ricardo…. I said his parents were immigrants. But he was born here. Just like you and me.”
    â€œPablo! Goddamn it! Get Scorsese on the phone before his masseuse shows up.”
    I grabbed his arm. “Did he just say Scorsese?”
    â€œYeah. Marty is a good client of the firm’s. So is Oliver Stone, Ron Howard, Spielberg…”
    â€œReally?” I swallowed. “How are the benefits?”

Chapter 6
    I WAS