Dating You / Hating You
Page 27

Is she . . . is she pissed that I stepped up to try for Dan Printz?
My chest seems to sink in as the sequence of emails unscrolls in my memory. Evie emailed, throwing her hat in the ring as well, and Brad handed him over to me. At the time, it was only one string of emails in the hysterical post-merge blur of my inbox, but now it occurs to me Evie probably saw my email as completely underhanded.
Oh shit. Was it? Wouldn’t she have done the same?
I blink into focus, catching what Brad is already saying. “. . . assume you have people who will transition here from CTM, including Emil and a few others, so for the time being I want to start you slowly, focus on reassuring everyone that it’s business as usual. But adding Dan would be a big coup.” He sorts through a few papers and then glances up at me, and I nod, letting him know I’ve heard him. He looks back down again. “The first new player on your list of P&D clients will be Jett Payne. Jett starred in a few indies and was added to MTV’s biggest series a few years ago. His character was killed off in the finale when he was offered a larger part with a network show, and, in my opinion, he’s primed to blow up. Your TV experience will come in handy, but talk to Joanne about him. She’s helped folks transition back and forth there.”
He slides the file across to me and I scan it, jotting down a few notes.
Dan is a heavy hitter in features, Jett is an up-and-comer. So far, so good.
“Next for you, Carter, is Jamie Huang, reality show darling.” It’s impossible to miss the mocking in his tone, but outwardly, I ignore it. Reality television is one of the largest markets in the eighteen-to-twenty-nine demographic, and Jamie’s show consistently runs in the top five. She has a huge social media presence, and while that means nothing if people don’t show up and buy the thing you’re selling, from what I’ve gathered, her fans do. A friend of mine met her briefly and mentioned that she was eager to move into film.
“Jamie’s manager is Allie . . .” He searches his notes. “Allie Brynn. She’s good—Jamie has had a fast rise and a wild online following, but she’s as dumb as a bag of sand.” Evie clears her throat—meaningfully—but Brad doesn’t seem to notice. “Allie keeps her in line, and her main job is to get Jamie to do whatever you want her to do.”
“Got it,” I say, noting Allie’s name. I’ve worked with managers extensively in the past. For the most part, they make my job easier.
“Alex Young is one of our biggest clients, Carter, and I think he’d do well on your list,” Brad continues, and I feel my heart speed up. Alex is a singer-songwriter whose breakout album debuted at number two in the UK, and he’s poised to become a massive US star.
My palms are sweating.
“I’m giving him to you because of your theater and music background in New York. You’ll be working in collaboration with the music team here and I’ll get that over to you, but people are poking around him for features. Personally, I think there’s no rush there and you can be picky. You’ll have fewer clients than Evie at first, but I think Alex is going to be right up your alley.”
I take a moment to glance from Alex’s file to Evie, and she looks impressed. We can do this, I think. We have complementary strengths, and we can sell Brad on the idea of us as a team. A wild little part of me daydreams that we could become something like our own specialized subdepartment if we mesh really well.
“Have your assistant get me your current list—only the folks who are sticking around after this merge—and we’ll update and go from there,” Brad says, and I nod, reaching for my phone and firing off a message to Justin.
“Evie,” Brad says, and she straightens in her chair. “I know you’ve got a pretty heavy list already and are working on contracts for Adam Elliott and Sarah Hill. That’s amazing.” He shakes his head and seems to add somewhat begrudgingly, “Well. I’m thrilled.”
Great. Both Adam and Sarah are A-listers, already chest-deep in the industry. Brad glances back to Evie’s folder, open in front of him. “The first one I’m going to give to you is Marian Isaac.”
I hate the way my first response to this is to want to laugh, because although Marian will bring in a ton of money, it’ll be no picnic for Evie. Marian is a model turned A-list actress who’s known for being a nightmare. She’s demanding, she’s often rude to interviewers and fans, and some of her screaming matches with her last director are legendary. I’m not surprised some other agent used the merge as an excuse to trade her off.
Evie nods, expression largely unreadable, but I’ll admit she doesn’t look particularly surprised. Evie could talk a grenade out of exploding, Brad had said. This is exactly what he meant.
“She was recently dropped from Lorimac,” Evie says.
“That’s right.” Brad laughs. “She made them three million dollars last year and they still dropped her like a hot potato.”
“Who was handling her before?” she asks.
“Chad.” Brad gives a sardonic grin. “He was happy to pass her off.”
“Oh, I’m sure he was.” Evie laughs knowingly, and something itches inside me to enter this banter so I don’t continue to feel like the newbie.
It’s just that I have no idea who Chad is.
Brad leans in, giving her a confident nod. “I have zero doubt that you’re the one to handle her.”
This feels like a sharp stab.
And I’m growing uneasy, because aside from her current list, he’s given her a big name, with the probability of signing two more, and all three of these clients are huge commissions.
Why the hell was I starting to feel bad about jumping in and taking Dan Printz?
Brad settles in again, looking back to his stack of folders. “Next up, Keaton Avery. I’m sure you remember that little tiff he had with the paparazzi last year, so I want to make sure image repair is at the front of your mind.”
Her pen slows on the pad in front of her, but she doesn’t question or object. Keaton was in an Oscar-nominated film last year and is poised to become the new art-house darling.
Fuck.
“Trent Vanh,” Brad says. “Just wrapped filming on the final season of Burn Brightly.” I lean back in my chair, feeling feverish. Trent won an Emmy last year. “He’s hoping to transition to film, so we’ll need to land him something big, and fast.”
Brad pulls out the final folder in the Evie stack. I feel my blood pressure rise about ten points and wonder what else he could possibly have.
“Last we have Seamus Aston, YouTuber.”
And goddammit. My hands curl into fists in my lap. Evie sits up, leaning her elbows on the table.
“Incidentally, Seamus and Jamie starred together in the new Scott film, so the two of you will have promo for that to coordinate. Seamus had seventeen million subscribers on his channel, along with pretty much every millennial endorsement you can imagine, and was just cast in what some are predicting to be the biggest film of next year. But,” Brad says, and leans back in his chair, “he is an epic asshole.”
You would know, I think.
As if on cue, Evie reaches for her handbag at her feet and pulls out a small tube of hand cream. Despite how tense things are, I know what she’s doing and have to stifle a smile as I watch her squeeze a dollop into the center of her palm and start vigorously rubbing her hands together.