Page 4 of Hot Route
“Sir, this is all I’ve ever wanted,” I answer him honestly. “I’m confident in my ability to take on whatever you want to throw at me.” I might sound cocky, but I don’t care. I want him to see how ready I am to make this internship my bitch.
He nods his head before handing me a pen. “Happy to have you on board, Madison. All I need now is for you to look over the contract and sign.”
I open the cover and scan the paperwork inside. I have most of the details from speaking with Jacob’s assistant Dani prior to today, but honestly, this thing could say that I need to go streaking through Fenway in the middle of a baseball game as part of my job description and I would still sign it.
I flip to the next page, where it talks about salary and notice that the amount is considerably smaller than we had discussed. But since I am here no matter what and don't want to ruffle any feathers, I let it go. I can get a part-time job to supplement the income so I’m able to pay my portion of the bills at Sarah’s. This internship is only twenty hours a week, so I’ll have some extra time on my hands for a second job. It's a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things.
Picking up the pen, I sign my name next to the flag and close the folder before handing it back to Jacob. I try not to let it show that butterflies are currently tickling the inside of my stomach. It's official, I am on my way to becoming the next big thing at Tailgate Media.
As if he can hear my inner thoughts, Jacob stands, smiling before extending a hand to me across the desk. “I have a good feeling about you, Miss Rodgers,” he says while we shake hands.
I can’t help the smile that blooms across my face at his praise.
“I won’t let you down, sir.”
FOUR
MADS
“So, tell me about your meeting,”Sarah says, standing in my doorway while I unpack my suitcase into the empty dresser.
“I went in there expecting to just sign my contract and get ready for the next year of my life, but Jacob hit me with a bomb right off the rip. I guess they had to fire one of their reporters, so they’re looking to hire a replacement quickly. They want to make it a competition between the four of us and at the end, one of us will be a full-time employee at Tailgate.”
“Oh my God, it’s totally yours! You’re going to kill it, Mads!” she squeals, throwing herself dramatically onto my bed. I try to be humble and hide the excitement from outwardly showing on my face, but it only lasts a moment before I'm grinning ear to ear. “Remember when we were like, eight years old and my dad and I came to visit while they had their fantasy football draft? All I wanted to do was hang out with the cute neighbor boys, but you insisted on sitting in the living room with them while they made their picks. They ended up kicking you out because you were scoffing over their shoulders the entire evening.”
I laugh, remembering that night as if it were yesterday. “Uncle Jimmy took a quarterback with the first pick. And not even a good one. If memory serves, he was benched by week three and was cut shortly after.”
“I swear, you’re such a freak. How do you remember all that?” She says jokingly before turning to her side and propping herself up on her elbow.
I chuckle. “No clue. But it's a cool party trick.”
Remembering the rest of my meeting, I continue. “While I was looking at the contract, I noticed that I'm going to be getting paid less than expected. I think I'm going to need a part-time job for the next four months or so to be able to afford to live here. So, if you know of anybody that's hiring, send them my way.”
“Actually,” Sarah replies, face scrunched like she’s thinking, “Tyler's mom owns a company that staffs personal assistants to high-profile people in the city. She asked me if I wanted to work for her, but I thought it would be best if I didn't mix business with pleasure when it comes to my boyfriend's mother. That could get ugly if something goes sideways. But I know the demand has grown since she opened and she has been looking for more employees. I can definitely set up a meeting with her and get you working quickly. Most of the people that need assistants use them for odd jobs and don't have them work all day, so it would be kind of perfect for you.”
I thank her as she gets up from the bed and skips to the doorway. It’s easy to see how we are related. Not only do we look similar, but we share our mothers’ signature bubbly, positive personalities. Well, we’re positive as long as we remain caffeinated. Coffee is life in our family.
“Hey, Sarah?” I say, making her turn around before she leaves the room. “Thanks. For everything.”
She winks at me. “Of course.”
I'm left alone in the room with my mountain of clothes and a whole room that needs to be decorated with pieces of home. I abandon the dresser for now and move to another bag with some of my personal items. First, I set a photo of myself and Dia on the nightstand. It’s from a music festival we went to last year. We’re both smiling with our faces painted and glitter all over our bodies. I remember it like it was yesterday, drinking ourselves silly until we stumbled to our tent for the night. We laughed until our sides hurt, which is definitely the norm for us.
A feeling of sadness washes over me as I remember just how far apart we are. Normally, after something big happens, we grab some Ben and Jerry’s and stay up all night watching movies and doing makeovers. Not that I think Sarah would object to that kind of girly fun and I do love hanging out with her, but nobody is Dia.
I look at the clock and notice that it is probably past my best friend's bedtime, so I shoot her a quickI miss youtext and return to setting up my room. Before I know it, it’s one in the morning and I’m practically dead on my feet. I slide under the covers and sleep takes me quickly. I'd say my first day in Boston was quite a success.
FIVE
BLAZE
“Beckham, what the actualfuck!?”My agent, Mac yells through the phone. I pull the device away from my head because he may have just blown my eardrum. “I told you I needed you to be on set for that commercial shoot at six this morning. Why did I get a message from the director at nine saying you never showed? Do you have any idea how much money you just screwed us out of? Let alone the fact that they probably won't want to work with you again because you aren't reliable!”
I pinch the bridge of my nose while I actively will my body not to puke. I suppose staying up all night with a random cleat chaser was probably not the best idea when I had to be up early the next morning, but she promised me she could suck a golf ball through a garden hose and I wasn’t about to deny her the opportunity to show off that skill on my dick.
“Mac, I’m gonna need you to lower your volume just a few notches. I think I’m dying,” I groan, letting my head fall back on the couch.
Why the fuck is it so bright in here?
