Page 81 of Overexposed

“So a better agent can do that?”

“A good agent is better than a good script. Everyone thinks that a good script is the unicorn. It isn’t—there are a lot of good scripts out there. But those scripts don’t always have four quadrant appeal, nor do they promise to make back the investors’ money and turn a profit. You want to make a good script into a movie, you get to be your own executive producerand find the financing. Then you can make art, and there are people who appreciate it.”

“But money is in the spectacle.”

“Exactly. I don’t really see her talking to this guy as anything more than testing the waters.” He shrugged. “Then again I don’t know her, so I don’t know what her chances are to make a break somewhere. A good agent, though, they will fight for that script for you. They will fight for you to get the roles you want and need. They make your success vital to their own.”

“Is that Jerry for you guys?”

He shrugged, then leaned back in the seat. “So far. He’s repped us since we were kids—well, teenagers. He came in and listened to us, not our parents, then worked with us to get what we wanted. So far so good.”

I smiled. “I’m glad.” I snapped a few pics, but I doubted they would be good for anything. Still, it didn’t hurt to have a backup for another story down the road. “It’s nice that you have someone keeping your best interests at heart. I can imagine it’s a lonely life.”

My phone rang again, and I frowned at the number. I didn’t know it so I sent it to voicemail. I’d been getting a lot of those unknown caller or blocked caller numbers. Some were spam. Others were gossips. A couple of the really odd ones had been my college roommate from freshman year and a woman who’d lived next door to me up until last year, asking if we could “meet for drinks,” as if that were something we did.

The phone buzzed again. Blocked number.

“You should turn off the ringer for unknown numbers.”

“Not always helpful to me. Some of these could be about work or tips—occasionally it’s about Dad.”

A third blocked call came through and then three messages popped up in rapid succession.

Blocked Number:Hey, it’s Flip. You should put me in your contacts. I wanted to reach out and see if maybe you could help me set up an audition with Seven? You guys seem like a cute couple.

I stared at the message, and Ollie leaned over to look at my phone. “Who’s Flip?”

“I—” I shook my head. The name was familiar. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe some random, just block him.”

Sounded like a plan when “Flip” sent through another message.

Oh you should watch Dirt-TV tonight. They’re covering your first date with Seven and I’ll be in it. Hope you don’t mind, but it’s such an adorable story.

Groaning, I leaned my head back against the seat. “Flip the bartender. From Cactus.”

“I’m sorry, Snow,” Ollie murmured. “Celebrity gets a weird reaction out of people.”

“I know—it’s how I pay bills but this…” I stared at the message, then just cleared it off the screen. “I think I need a drink.”

“Well, it just so happens that I know a great place.”

Someone jogged up to the passenger side of the car and knocked on the window. Two someones. They backed up a little and looked in the car. They were practically bubbling over with excitement.

“You’re busted,” I warned Ollie.

He rolled the window down. “Hello, girls, what can I do for you? We’re in a bit of a hurry.”

“Can we get your autograph Mr. Griffiths?”

“Please,” the other girl said. “We love you so much.”

“Well, since you love me so much,” he said, before signing the one girl’s book and the other girl’s backpack. He declined to signa boob though. “Sorry, ladies. Even if you had an ID declaring your age, I’m afraid I have to draw a line somewhere.”

Then he conceded to taking a selfie with them, but he didn’t get out of the car. “Now, I’m afraid we need to go.”

“Of course,” the first girl said, then she stole a look at me and let out squeal. “Oh my god, you’re Seven Harrison’s girlfriend.”

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