Page 156 of My Five Daddies

“Don’t do that fake respectful bullshit either, goddamnit, Von. Hurry up and get the damnbubbly!”

Von disappears out the door and I shake my head, grinning to myself. I love making Mickey happy, and nothing makes him happier than landing a big moviedeal.

But I don’t really care about the money. There have been plenty of other big offers in the last couple weeks, and I’ve turned them all down, one after the other. None of them have been right forme.

Brutally Dishonestisn’t the best movie of the bunch. It’s not even offering me the most money. It won’t have the biggest release, although it’ll still probably do reasonably well. It’s not a step backwards, more like a lateral move, although Mickey still thinks it’ll be good forme.

And I agree, though for differentreasons.

Von comes back a minute later with glasses and the bottle. He pours three and Mickey stares athim.

“You’re kidding, right?” heasks.

“Big balls on you, Von,” I say,laughing.

He shrugs, grins, and downs the champagne. “Congrats, Jack,” he says tome.

“His name’s Jackson, you little shit, now get out ofhere.”

I grin and shake Von’s hand as he leaves. I love that little guy. Although Mickey gives him shit, I know he’s a greatassistant.

“To you, big guy,” Mickey says. I take my glass, we toast, and I down it in one gulp. “Now, let’s do the boringshit.”

We sit down next to each other on his couch and start to walk through the contract. Normally I’d ignore all of this stuff, but there’s one thing I’m waitingfor.

We get past the offer, the deadlines, all that shit, and finally get to the part where it lists thecrew.

“Okay, director is some German guy named Lionel, no last name apparently,” Mickey says. “Buncha other guys, you know what a crew lookslike.”

He goes to turn the page, but I stop him. “Wait. Who’s the scriptgirl?”

He blinks, surprised. “Script girl? I don’t fucking know, some kid. Whocares?”

“Read the name,” I say, trying to staypatient.

He sighs and skims through it. “Okay, let’s see… photography… gaffer… okay, here we go. Script girl.” He squints at the name. “Tara Austin.” He looks up at me, a confused look on his face. “That mean anything toyou?”

I smile at him and nod. “That name means a lot to me, Mickey. Now let’s sign thisshit.”

He looks confused, but he doesn’t press. I wouldn’t tell him the truth even if he askedanyway.

Truth is, I’m doing this movie for that script girl. She doesn’t know it, but I’m coming for her. I fucked up once upon a time, although I did what I did for a goodreason.

But now I’m back and I’m going to make up for that one colossally stupiddecision.

2

Tara

When I first came toLA, I hated it here. I hated the perfect weather, hated the perfect people, and really hated how fake everythingfelt.

But I was determined. I came to this town with a dream, and I’m not the kind of girl to give up just because I get a little homesick. And so over the years, I met people, made friends, built up a life, and landed the best job I could ever imagine working for one of the largest studiosaround.

But over the years, personal stuff kind of fell by the wayside. I’ve dated, sure, but never seriously. Guys never stuck around, and I guess I never cared all that much. I was dedicated to building mycareer.

And now here I am, twenty-eight years old, living with an awesome roommate, but totally, chronically, impossibly single. I haven’t met a decent guy in months, and I’m starting to feel like I neverwill.

There’s something missing in my life. I love working as a script girl, even though I despise that title. But basically, I’m the liaison between the writer, the director, and the script itself. I make sure that we’re following the plot, that things make sense, that we’re keeping continuity. If lines change, I mark the main script up, and I make sure it makes sense in the greater story. If a character says his name is Timmy, and later in the movie his name randomly changes to Tommy, well, that’d be myfault.

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