Swallowing the last bit of pride I had left, I did what I needed to. I asked him to tell me about my new job. “How does the promotion change what I do?”
He exhaled and his shoulders relaxed, relieved that I’d decided to play ball. Again.
Hesitantly, he started to explain my new job. “In a lot of ways, it doesn’t. You won’t get coffee for me anymore – that’ll be Cassie’s job from now on – but you’ll continue to assist me on everything related to what we do here at Gramalkin. Basically, what you already do now.” As he spoke, he became more animated … as if I’d never stood up to him only to have him crush me under the weight of his power. “I’d love it if you could go to meetings in my place and report back on what was discussed and any action items. I’ll make the final decisions of course, but in the early stages of these conversations, I want you to be involved helping all the various groups understand what I’m looking for so they don’t have to run every decision by me.”
“I can do that,” I replied without looking up from my hands. Hands that were clenched so tight they felt like my fingers might break.
From this day forward, I’d never look at Broderick the same way again. And not viewing him as a friend or an ally, I realized, allowed me to approach this conversation as the business transaction it really was. “How does this affect my pay?”
“Straight to the point as always. That’s one of the reasons I like working with you so much. I always know where I stand and never have to worry you’re thinking one thing and saying another.”
“That’s me,” I responded dryly.
Little did he know I was very good at thinking one thing and saying another. I’d kept the biggest secret of my life for years, never letting even the most person most important to me guess how I felt about him. Unfortunately, I didn’t know how to carry that resolve over into this new reality, not when I was so raw and my hurt and anger was a living, breathing thing I had to fight moment-to-moment to suppress.
Broderick blinked at me, taken aback I’d been so forthright about the matter of my pay. Then, hiding that surprise, he launched the first volley in our negotiation.
“Let’s say an extra $12,000 a year – that’s $1000 for every month – and a bonus based on the performance of the films you work on.”
I bit my tongue when he mansplained that very basic math. As if I couldn’t figure out such a simple equation myself. With a $12,000 raise I could tell my dad he didn’t need to add money to my bank account anymore. It wasn’t something I was proud of, and we very rarely discussed it, but my dad had been putting a few thousand dollars in my bank account a couple of times a year ever since we’d bought my house. He felt guilty my mom had railroaded me into the more expensive option when I would have been just as happy with a condo somewhere less expensive. Giving me the funds to offset the higher price was his way of apologizing while continuing to let her have her way.
This new $12,000 wouldn’t be enough to live extravagantly on, but it could mean a nice(ish) vacation once a year instead of short trips to Las Vegas or Santa Barbara with a bunch of friends. I had visions of sitting on a Hawaiian beach and idly wondered how much a week in Kauai would cost as a solo traveler (because there was no way Cameron could join me). Maybe I could wrangle Carly or Jennifer into joining me.
Broderick hadn’t stipulated what sort of bonus he envisioned, but I’d worked with him long enough to know he didn’t mean $1000 at Christmas. I was hoping it closer to the several thousands-of-dollars range which, all things considered, was a nice starting point. My dad had taught me two things in life: (1) Jane Travers always got her way, and (2) Never accept a first offer.
“Let’s say $15,000 a year and I want the bonus structure laid out with exact percentages and dollar amounts before I sign a contract.”
“Thirteen-five a year on top of your current salary, plus half a percent of The Ties That Bind’s opening weekend.”
“Domestic or international?”
He grinned and I smirked back. He was a fool if he thought he was going to buy me off without feeling the pinch of my indignation. “Total. Both domestic and international,” he answered with a definitive nod of his head.
“Fourteen thousand and six weeks of paid vacation a year on top of every thing else we just hammered out and you have yourself a deal.”
I watched him consider this last second addition to our negotiation and wondered what the standard even was for the industry. Since I’d never taken a real vacation before, I had no idea what was normal versus outlandish and I wanted to be very outlandish.
He crossed his arms over his chest and seemed to consider me for a moment. Then, “I’ll tell you what Sarah. You’re giving up a lot for this movie so I’ll give you the fourteen grand and half a percent of the take for Ties, four weeks of paid vacation, and I’ll throw in another week at our place in either Maui or Nice.”
He stuck his hand out for me to shake and I was assailed with feelings of doubt. If he hadn’t thrown in that bit about me giving up so much, I might have thought I was walking away with a good haul but now I wondered if I could have gotten more. Cameron had thought me mercenary before? He hadn’t seen shit. If everyone was going to turn their backs on me, him included, I was going to get mine in return. Mentally tallying the numbers – guessing the opening weekend at around $130 million – I figured this “promotion” was costing Broderick somewhere in the range of $750,000 in blood money.
Images of Cameron flirting – quite convincingly – with Jillian less than an hour ago and then walking out of the conference room without saying a word to me flashed through my mind and my chest physically hurt at the memory. For a very brief moment I was tempted to tell him to call a spade a spade and offer me $2 million to walk away completely. I wouldn’t have taken the money, of course, but it would have been amazing to see his face when I said it because let’s be honest. This was a negotiation was his professional way of buying me off. Hush money for going along with the whole sordid plan. A reward for keeping my relationship with Cameron a dirty little secret.
I clasped his larger hand in mine. “Deal.”
I didn’t stop to wish Sarah congratulations or tell her I was proud of her. I was of course. The promotion was a huge deal, but I was also angry beyond belief. I couldn’t remember a time in my whole life I’d been this pissed off and that she was part of what made me feel this way was so much worse. The logical part of my brain told me she had just been looking out for my career, but the illogical part told me she’d betrayed me. With my gut twisted with rage, I’d left Gramalkin’s offices immediately after the meeting and had driven straight to the gym, knowing I’d find Mike ready for some sparring action.
When Mike and I had moved here from Ohio, he’d done some modeling as well but had loathed the uncertainty that was a staple of the career. You never knew when you were going to book a job and having to be ready at the drop of a hat when one did come up could be frustrating. He hadn’t minded the constant exercising required to maintain his six-pack abs, so when he left modeling behind he naturally fell into personal training. After years of honing his and others’ bodies to perfection – including my own – he’d plunked down a hunk of cash to open up his own gym but it wasn’t one of those high-end, high-tech gyms with fancy names and even fancier amenities the beautiful people of L.A. used. If anything, it looked a bit like one of those hardscrabble gyms you saw in old boxing movies, right down to the large ring placed squarely in the center of the cavernous space.
Named simply Mike’s – my best friend never claimed to be a marketing genius – the gym was located in an industrial area of town that was going through a renaissance. Several old warehouses had been revamped by a real estate developer a couple of years back and now the three-block radius featured all types of profitable, respectable businesses, including one that made organic juices they sold to stores like Whole Foods at a huge markup. It pained Mike when they’d moved in across the alley since one of his points of pride was his gym had
no onsite juice bar for his customers to hang out in while they pretended to have just exercised their asses off. He also made no secret of the fact that he loathed kale smoothies and the people who drank them.
“Whoa!” he laughed, dodging my incoming fist. “This might be the fastest I’ve seen you move in weeks, you lazy fuck.”
“Would you quit weaving? How else am I supposed to pummel you?” I shot back, an unwanted smile tugging at my lips.
I was still furious with Broderick, the PR team, Sarah, and even myself, but the forty minutes I’d spent lifting weights, jumping rope, and pounding the punching bag had lessened some of the tension eating away at me. Sparring with Mike – getting the chance to actually hit something and be hit back – felt good in a perverse way.
Immediately after leaving Sarah, I’d called Julie to demand she tell me what she knew about the publicity team’s plan. She’d been on her way to the meeting so once she arrived, she filled me in on what she’d already told Broderick she was on board for. I bit my tongue at that – I could chew her out later – but somehow by the end of our conversation I’d committed to going along with an even more insidious plan. Even as I told her I’d do it, I knew I was making a terrible mistake but I was still reeling from Sarah’s earlier betrayal and I’d wanted her to understand what it felt like to have the person you hung all your hopes for the future on back you into an impossible corner. So like an asshole I’d nodded my head and agreed.
I hadn’t had time to tell Sarah but had figured Broderick would pull her aside and clue her in. When Aerin told those assembled in the room that Jillian and I were already dating and the studio was going to leverage our relationship to boost interest in the movie, I’d watched Sarah out of the corner of my eye for her reaction. She’d gone white as a sheet for a few seconds and realizing she hadn’t been told what was coming, felt the ground fall out from beneath me. For a second there, I honestly thought she was going to faint dead away. I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen. When her face flushed red I was able to breathe again. She was pissed, but then again, so was I. Before I could think any more on it, I heard the queue in the conversation Julie had pre-arranged with Aerin, and I jumped into this latest sideshow with both feet.
Now I wanted nothing more than to punch Broderick in the nuts for turning my life upside down like this. Landing a jab to Mike’s abdomen and the resulting “oof” he let out wasn’t quite the same, but it went a long way toward reducing some of my pent up aggression.
“You’re doing just fine it seems to me,” he said, dancing around the mat on his toes like I’d never even touched him.
He jabbed and I ducked to the side, narrowly avoiding being clocked in the face. The evasion left me with a perfect opening to land another punch to his ribs. Unfortunately, I didn’t move quickly enough when he punched back, and I felt a solid one, two right hook, left jab combination pound my flesh. I winced and danced out of arm’s reach.
“What’s got you aching for a fight?” he asked, not even winded from our physical exertion. “Things not go well with the meeting?”
Me on the other hand? I needed to gulp in a few lungfuls of air before answering. “You could say that,” I bit out between clenched teeth.
When Mike and I sparred we never went for the others’ face so we didn’t feel the need to wear mouth guards or protective helmets. The first time I’d tried to put one on he’d thrown it aside and told me there was no way he was going to mess up my money-maker. Now I appreciated that he’d established the tradition because some of our best conversations had taken place while punching each another in this ring. Women talked over mani-pedis, we did it over jabs and uppercuts.
“They want me and Jillian to pretend to be dating,” I said, landing a right hook to Mike’s ribs.
He took the blow like a pro and retaliated with his own to my abdomen. “How would that work?”
I grunted when the punch landed and choked out, “I have to hide my relationship with Sarah.”
His feet quit moving and he stopped hopping around the mat. His arms dropped to his side. “You’re shitting me.”
I dropped my stance and, trying to avoid the scrutiny of his gaze, began unwinding the tape that was wrapped around my gloves wrists to hold my gloves in place.
“Seriously man, what the fuck?” Mike put his padded hand on my shoulder. “How’d Sarah take the news?”
I had three brothers of my own, but I loved this guy like family. No matter what came my way, Mike would always have my best interest at heart. That his first question had been about Sarah wasn’t surprising. He knew how much I loved her and that aside from my family – and him – she was the most important person in my life. That he looked out for her should have made me happy, but it was a struggle to go there just yet.
“Fuck man,” I breathed out, tossing my gloves to the mat. “She’s the one who told me about their plan.”
He looked skeptical. “Noooooo.”
“Yes.”
Then, as we gathered our things and left the ring to the next boxers, I told him all about her panicked phone call and how I’d rushed across town to see her before the meeting. How Broderick had been a fucking coward, making Sarah be the one to break the news to me. He shook his head the entire time I relayed the story as it had unfolded, from the moment I’d arrived at Gramalkin until I’d walked in the door here. Mike couldn’t believe that Sarah had betrayed me. He really couldn’t believe I’d betrayed here even worse.
“I dunno man,” he said, scratching his head as we walked to the showers. “Sarah’s not exactly someone who does something she doesn’t want to unless there’s a really good reason for it.”
I grunted in response because that was generally a true statement. Her independence and fierce pride were two of the things I’d first loved about her. Initially I’d been drawn to her kindness, but it had been that indomitable spirit that had enchanted me. From the get-go, I’d thought her the perfect mix of a sweet, lovely softness and a hard-as-steel will.
“As much as I hate Broderick for involving her like that, I have to give the prick props for his cunning. If they’d blindsided me during the meeting with the idea, I definitely would have told them all to fuck off before storming out. And having Julie already in on it? Frankly, it’s all a bit too Machiavellian for my liking. I’m kind of afraid of the dude,” I shared as I lathered my arms and chest with his expensive body wash.
Mike may have hated frou-frou juice bars but the man had a serious soft spot for luxury toiletries. Both locker rooms were stocked with Molton Brown shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, and hand lotion. Tobacco Absolute for the guys and Orange Bergamot for women. Mike wouldn’t admit it, but one of his many women had turned him onto the scent when she told him he smelled good enough to eat and then spent some quality time going down on him.
“He probably guessed Sarah would be able to get you to come around and sent her in as the first wave of their assault.”
“Well, I played right into it because thirty minutes later, I was sitting in that conference room acting like I barely knew her, let alone loved her to distraction.” I stepped under the spray and washed the soap away. Grabbing a towel from the hook next to the shower I ran it over my body and wrapped it around my hips. “Dude, you have to get better towels. This thing barely covers me.”
“Do you know how expensive even having towel service is motherfucker?” he asked, coming up alongside me in front of the mirror. Eyeing me shrewdly in the glass, he added, “Besides, it’s not like you pay a membership fee or anything. You should be happy I even let you use my towels in the first place.”
He had me there. I’d never given him one red cent for the privilege of exercising here. Neither had I paid him for his advice about my diet and exercise regime. Then again, he’d never bought groceries or paid the utility bills when we’d lived together, so I liked to call it even.
I picked up our conversation where I’d left off before ribbing him about the threadbare towels.
“The whole time she was telling me how it was the best thing for my career, I just saw red … like Hulk Smash pissed.” I ran the comb through my hair and then rubbed some pomade through it. There’d been some talk about having to dye my hair black to play Xander, but Julie was trying to convince Broderick it wasn’t necessary. Being an actor, I was naturally vain about my appearance and in a sea of good looking guys, two things that made me stand out were my height and my hair color. I’d been around models and actresses long enough to know once you dyed your hair, it was never the same. Admittedly, unlike the female models I’d worked with I could shave my head and start over, but the idea of putting all those chemicals on my head and letting them sink into my scalp over and over again for the duration of filming gave me pause.
Almost like he read my mind, Mike asked, “They gonna let you keep the hair?”
I laughed. “I was just thinking that.”
“You always did love your hair,” he said, miming a primping motion at his reflection.
He was one to talk. The dude had a legitimate mane of hair down to his shoulders and most of the women he hooked up with loved it. That and his tattoos. And his muscles. Mike pulled tail. A lot.
“I won’t be surprised if they try to force the issue,” I said. “It’s not like they’ve exhibited a fine understanding of boundaries thus far. If they have no problem dictating my personal life, I doubt Julie will be able to convince them to let me keep my hair.”
Mike grew serious. “And you haven’t talked to her since the meeting?”
I pretended to misunderstand. “Julie? No, why?”
“That’s not who I was asking about and you know it. Sarah, you asshole. You haven’t talked to her?”
I inhaled and my shoulders tensed to somewhere up around my ears. “No, I came straight here. I needed to work off some of my anger first.”
“I know you probably don’t want to hear this man, but you need to go home and talk to her. This is some fucked up shit and she’s got to be freaking out too.”
Lucky Star: A Hollywood Love Story Page 17
