Page 3 of Not Exactly a Small-Town Romance

I down my tank of gas for courage, and we move in for the kill.

Chapter 2

ZACHERYHATES ON THEGOLDENCHILD

Kelsey and I squeeze through the crowd, and it takes everything I’ve got to not glower at every man turning to watch her pass.

Nobody here can hold a candle to her. With blond hair, a siren-red dress, and strappy stilettos, she steals all the attention as she walks.

Not that I’m looking. She’s a coworker and a kid. Okay, maybe not achildat twenty-five, but young in the industry, having worked for Desdemona for only two years. Sharks tend to circle, and I beat ’em back, even if it means I bloody my knuckles.

We head toward this overblown man-child who undoubtedly thinks he’s the greatest thing to hit cinema since Marlon Brando.

But Desdemona wants him, and we generally do what she says.

Between her contact list, Jester’s organization, and Kelsey’s uncanny ability to spot romantic chemistry between two actors, our team makes movie magic.

In truth, there’s no reason for me to associate with Desdemona. I live off the interest of the money I socked away when my career was hot. I don’t have to work another day in my life.

But I stay for Kelsey.

Strong Kelsey. Trusting Kelsey. Long-suffering Kelsey.

I’m afraid that without me, the Demon will eat her alive.

And Kelsey loves her job. She’s good at it. The industry at large may not realize how many projects were cast from her brilliant pairings, but I do.

So does Desdemona, which is why she keeps her assistant so tightly under her thumb. No one can know that the Demon is out of touch, unable to adjust to younger sensibilities, ignorant of trends. She relies on Kelsey now.

But I don’t have the clout to do anything about it. Not an actor out of the game.

So I stay, lingering, watching.

Like tonight.

I walk up to the tall, angular Jacobs. “Been a while,” I say, easily pulling the man aside so that Kelsey can approach the actor.

Jacobs lifts his champagne glass in a half-hearted toast. “Zachery Carter. Looking for parts or for dames?”

Yeah, this will be fun. “Neither. Just making conversation. And I’m not sure any lady here enjoys being called that.”

Jacobs has no business using the word “dame.” He’s barely forty. But like so many people in this industry, he has an act. He wears a suit, for one, even though it’s balmy this evening.

And a fedora. Nobody else out here wears a hat, other than a woman in a pink sequin bra with a matching beret.

Jacobs scowls at my reprimand and sips his drink.

I’ve taken the wrong tack. I’m here to keep him off Desdemona’s new golden boy. If I piss him off, he’ll make a point of stealing the mark.

“What projects are on your desk?” I ask. “I hear you’re in demand.”

This is the right strategy. Jacobs likes to gloat, and he brings up a limited series everyone wanted to cast but that ended up going to him. As he launches into a spiel about his successes, I look over his shoulder to see how Kelsey is faring.

“I haven’t seen you at one of these before,” the Golden Child says. “You an actress?”

Kelsey shakes her head, and I’m mesmerized by how the ends of her hair brush her bare shoulders. “Oh, no. I work for Desdemona Lovechild in casting. Have you heard of her?”

He shrugs, and this is far more interesting than these ramblings by Jacobs. How can this kid not know Desdemona? He’s green, but he’s dressed to impress. Either he’s already gotten above-union work or else he comes from money.

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