Free Bad Boy Boss by Abby Chance Page A

Michael’s is her agent, so you know you’ll be seeing a lot of her pretty soon. Now take some flattering pictures and lead your brethren away so that we can have lunch in peace.”
    After he’d gone I said to Peter, “Dillon specifically said you were supposed to ignore the paparazzi.”
    “That one works for a supermarket tabloid. I would have ignored the rest, but people usually try to get him. I don’t because I don’t have anything to sell really, about the only thing I did have was the art shows and they aren’t really celebrity gossip material.”
    “Whoa,” I said. “I’m a celebrity?”
    “As soon as the next issue hits the checkout stands.”
    I shook my head. “That’s sort of mind-blowing.”
    “Why?”
    “You’ve been one all your life; I’m just getting my cherry popped. It isn’t something you’d understand. All your life, I’ve seen these people – mostly their pictures – and they are supposed to be special, someone we all want to be. Then, all of a sudden sitting down and eating a salad, I am one. I don’t feel any different, the world doesn’t get glitter sprinkled all over it, but there I am and every housewife in the greater LA area wishes they were me. I’m not even sure I like it, and that’s mind-blowing.”
    We spent the afternoon in Trader Joe’s, Whole Foods and an Italian Specialty Grocery Store on Central in Glendale. We both had lists of ingredients, but about half of them coincided. About the only thing we were opposed about was the boneless chicken. He got breasts and I wanted the thighs, because I always thought that the dark meat had more taste.
    When we got back to the house in Glendale, there was a note on the door.
     
    If you get back in time, Pauley is grilling steak in the backyard, starting at six. Hope you can make it.

A
     
    We had time to put everything away. The note was from Peter's sister, Anabelle. Pauley was her husband and the CFO at Disney. They lived next door and their house was considerably larger, though I never really saw the inside of it because we just walked from backyard to backyard.
    They greeted us with a beer and Pauley took our orders for steak, both of which were rare. Then we sat down for a while.
    “I assume that you are shortly going to be with the competition,” Pauley said to me.
    I nodded. “Well, starting Monday, I’ll be at Warner Brothers. According to what they told me, the character will be tested in two episodes, and then written in later in the season if she tests well.”
    “That’s the formula, unless you’re the producer’s girlfriend. Monday you can go in with Mom – she has a script in development there – and of course Dad will be around. I have two casting directors on my ass about that. I’m the bad guy most of the time, the bean counter, but let Dad show up and I’m everybody’s friend. If you want, come on Sunday and I’ll do a barbecue with the parents and the casting directors, a couple other power couples. Certainly couldn’t hurt.”
    “Why not?” said Peter, looking over at me. “We can work Saturday.”
    “Slave driver,” I said.
    “So I heard that you disowned your brother in high school,” I said to Anabelle.
    Annabelle laughed. “Disowned, swore I didn’t know him, and forbade anyone from mentioning his name in my presence,” she confirmed. “Both Sarah and I were decent, and I say decent, not really good in the sense Dad is, but Alex? Jeez, did he stink, I mean wooden. Monotone. There wasn’t a mistake he didn’t make. Really cringe-worthy.”
    “Well, it just wasn’t my thing,” said Peter. “Just because Dad is one of the best doesn’t guarantee I have to be good at it. I didn’t want to do the play, as I remember, but heredity sealed my fate.”
    “I know they pressured both Sarah and me into doing a play,” Anabelle agreed. “Sarah did two. Still, you might have at least tried.”
    “He can’t,” I said. “He can’t lie in such a way that I can’t tell.