“My mom called you?”she asked, stunned.Her mom served as her manager, which had been great when she was still a teenager, but now was a constant source of annoyance.
“Yeah.What’s the deal?”
“So she knows I’m out of money?”
“Marissa, what’s the deal?”
“I don’t know.They spent it all.New car, new house, trip to Europe.It’s gone.My accountant said we can’t pay the mortgage on the house and we’re in danger of getting foreclosed on.”
“Who’s they?Your mom and sister?”
“Yeah,” she said, walking so fast she began to huff.
“Well, who the fuck’s in charge?Is it your money and your life or not?Look, I know you’re young, but you’re an adult.You signed these contracts on your own, and the money is yours.You could get a real manager.You don’t have to let your mom run your career like she did when you were thirteen.”
“Okay, thanks, nice talking to you,” she sang out in a false-friendly tone.
“Listen, Marissa, I’m not trying to piss you off.But you’re a lot harder to represent when you start pulling this temperamental star bullshit.You’re not established enough to act like a diva.”
“I am not a temperamental star!”she snapped, hating that she sounded like a petulant child instead of an accomplished professional.“I’m just...having a rough patch.”
“Well get over it.Immediately.Or we’re both screwed.Because I have no intention of returning my cut of your advance if you get fired.Understand?”
She hung up without acknowledging Julie.Bitch.Her stomach clenched in a tight knot because she knew every word Julie had said was true.
She had walked several blocks now and realized she was near Cafe Desta, the hip lunchtime restaurant for film crew and actors.She could wait here until her sister and mom emerged from their spending spree.
“Good morning, Ms.Sparks,” the maitre d’ said, “Table for one?”
God that sounded so pathetic.But yes, that was her life now.
“Yes, please,” she said.
“Inside or out?”
“The patio would be great.Thanks,” she said, her eyes skittering around to see if she recognized anyone.She saw several execs from other studios, a few agents and a B-list actor.She wondered what they’d heard about her.Damn.Hollywood was worse than middle school in terms of social anxiety.Maybe it was just the dexedrine talking.
She sat down and pulled her phone out of her purse.She only had a little bit of battery left.Probably not her best plan to have her phone play the part of lunch date today.She turned it off and stuck it back in her purse.
The waitress came around and she ordered a chamomile tea.If only they could make it strong enough to counteract the amphetamine coursing through her system now.At this rate, she wouldn’t sleep for days.
She searched through her purse for her lipgloss and then decided to organize the jumbled mess in her bag.She began to remove the contents of her purse one by one, placing them on the chair beside her so she didn’t call attention to herself.She could just see that headline:Lonely Marissa Sparks Asked to Leave Restaurant for Acting like Bag Lady.” She supposed that would be better than some of the other half-truths they’d said about her.
She glanced up as the maitre d’ showed three other people to the patio.
Oh shit.
She sank down in her chair, wishing she had a hat or sunglasses to hide behind.Joel and two of the female supporting actors were coming toward her.It annoyed her that he’d asked them to lunch.Or maybe they’d asked him, but still—she’d never been invited to a meal with him.
“Oh, there’s Marissa,” she heard Joel say as she pretended not to see them.“Do you mind?I need to have a talk with her.”
“No, I don’t mind,” one of the actors said, although she obviously did.She and her cohort took a table for two, looking disappointed.
And Marissa should not feel so satisfied over that.
She watched him approach out of the corner of her eye, still pretending she hadn’t noticed his arrival.His long legs made the trip a short one.He stopped opposite the table from her.
She lifted her eyes and put on her best smirk.“Have you come to lecture me again?”
