HDU #2: Dirt (13 page)

“So, new girl.”

Amanda blinked,
realizing she was being summoned by Fish.

“How do you feel
about Vegas setting Ono’s over-under at sixteen wins this season?” he asked
with a smirk which twitched with the need to break into a full blown laugh as
Amanda stared like a deer in headlights.

“His — his
what?” she stammered quietly.
 
She
was fairly certain that she had never heard a more perplexing sentence in her
life.
 
But just as Fish opened his
mouth to repeat his question — or say something sardonic, she wasn’t sure
which it’d be — a deep voice interrupted him from out the room and down
the hall.

“Hey, Amanda!”

Oh, thank God
.
 
Her eyes lighting up like a puppy, Amanda spun around to see
Tom approaching in a casual oatmeal colored henley and jeans.
 
He raised his eyebrows at her outfit
while guiding her into the writers room, taking his rimless glasses off of his
head and placing them onto the bridge of his nose.

“Wow, look at
you!” he said brightly.
 
Amanda
blushed.

“Oh.
 
I, um, wasn’t sure what was acceptable
office wear and I guess I came… overdressed.”

“No, hey! Makes
me wish the rest of these guys gave enough shits to dress like functioning
members of society before coming to work,” he laughed, giving her back a
reassuring pat.
 
“Maybe they’ll
take a lesson from this and start washing their clothes once every few
weeks.
 
Right, guys?”

“Yeah,” came the
collectively half-hearted response.
 
Tom looked from them to Amanda, giving a breezy wave of his hand.

“You’ll get used
to them,” he said under his breath before going to sit down.

Amanda managed a
smile, already feeling a bit better.
 
At least I have Tom
, she
thought, taking a quick peek around the room at the writers again.
 
She had heard the one in the Yankees
jersey snorting and caught the flannel-shirted one rolling his eyes quite
visibly.
 
The lanky one between
them looked up at her with bored eyes before returning his gaze to his
iPad.
 
God, do I have my work cut out for me here, Amanda thought, though she
forced herself to remain positive.
 
Just stay confident.
 
Show
them you can do exactly what they do.
 
Tom Vogel believes in you.
 
You should believe in you too.

Standing
straight, Amanda forced herself to smile.
 
As Tom took the last empty seat at the head of the table, she took the
initiative to pull over the folding chair resting against the back wall.
 
But just as she set it at the table,
nearly taking a seat, Tom stopped her.

“Ah!
Amanda.
 
Don’t take a seat just
yet, I need you to do something for me first.”

“Oh, of
course.”
 
She stood at
attention.
 
“What can I do for
you?”

Tom looked
around the table.
 
“Usual?” he
asked, scribbling some notes onto a piece of paper when they all nodded.
 
Once finished, he handed it to Amanda.
 
“If you could just take this piece of
paper and run it down to Starbucks.
 
We all take our coffees pretty much the same, so it should be easy.
 
Don’t forget to order something for
yourself, too.”

~

Perfect
.

Amanda stood at
the end of the counter at Starbucks, two cardboard trays in her hands and about
the entire cafe’s eyes on her.
 
She
glanced outside while waiting on the baristas for her drinks.
 
She might not have been so stare-worthy
to the rest of the customers were it not for the trio of Pop Dinner paparazzi
planted outside the windows, snapping pictures of her on a coffee run while
wearing high heels and her completely inappropriate Thierry Marc pantsuit.

And I’m still holding this insanely fancy
suitcase that I have absolutely no business holding
, Amanda realized
incredulously.
 
It really made her
look all the more ridiculous and she couldn’t have hated herself more in that
moment for forgetting to put it down.

“Alrighty, three
grande iced coffees, two lattes — one venti, one grande — and three
tall dark roasts for Amanda!”

God
.

Stalking forward
with the eyes of the room on her, Amanda pushed each of the drinks into the
cardboard tray, moving aside as the busy baristas began setting down another
set of orders.

“Alrighty, four
venti lattes, two tall iced coffees and a caramel macchiato for Jake!”

Ah, Jake.
 
My fellow office bitch
, Amanda mused, looking over at
the pair of anxious hands next to hers as they placed their set of orders onto
a tray.
 
She looked up to see who
the poor hands belonged to, cocking her head at the boy who wore a suit slightly
too big for his slim, six foot frame.
 
Amanda squinted at him.
 
His
eyes, skin and hair were impossibly light and he looked several years younger
than her.
 
And there was something
about his face that looked familiar but she couldn’t quite place him.
 
When he looked up and offered a
nervous, twitching smile, the sense of familiarity she’d detected quickly
vanished.
 
Never mind then
.

“I feel ya,” she
mouthed, trying to give this Jake something of a reassuring grin.
 
A couple seconds ago, she had felt as
if she’d had it the worst of anyone in Midtown but just looking at Jake’s
incredibly tense and brittle gait made her feel a little better about her own
situation.
 
He could hardly seem to
stand straight.
 
At least I’m not as much of a wreck as this
poor guy
, she reasoned with herself, noting that as much as it didn’t feel
that way, she didn’t have it so bad considering how much potential drama there
was lingering in her life — potential drama that was thankfully remaining
just a dormant volcano.

If a coffee run is the worst thing going on
for me right now, I should definitely consider myself incredibly lucky.

AMANDA
NATHAN: CASEY MULREED SHOULD BE IN REHAB!

Pop Dinner

July 7
^th

We’ve got leaks from Amanda Nathan’s interview with Fleur Magazine and
boy is the girl a hypocrite! But how, you ask, how is sweet little Amanda a
hypocrite? Well, have a look-see here at her interview with Fleur’s own
Madeline Riker:

“When asked about Casey, Amanda flashes a bright smile.
 
‘Yes, Casey and I are still very good
friends — we just don’t see each other as often anymore because we’re
both so, so busy,’ she explains breezily before sipping on her elderberry
lemonade.
 
‘But she’ll always be
one of the most important people in my life because she was the one who
introduced me to all of my career opportunities.
 
I owe her absolutely everything,’ she insists, looking me in
the eye as if to drive home the point.

So, mystery solved —
 
the girls are friends with the absolute best of relationships.

Or are they? It seems that for all the love Amanda has for Casey, she
is perhaps keeping a few feelings from her, which come out when I ask her about
her other good friend, the notorious Ian Marsh.

‘I’d rather not talk about Ian,’ she says, getting quiet and tucking a
lock of her straightened hair behind her ear.
 
After further prodding, the young writer still refuses to
speak of her rehab-graduated friend.
 
But finally, I promise to let the subject go if she answers me one
question — did Ian make the right decision by going to rehab for his
addiction?

‘Yes.
 
Rehab was the
obvious answer for his situation and I’m proud of him for going through with
it.’

Fair enough.
 
So, should
all addicts seek professional help or go to rehab?

Amanda is now twiddling a vine of wisteria, her mind appearing to be
elsewhere as she answers me.
 
‘Of
course,’ she mumbles.
 
‘Addiction
is an illness that needs to be taken seriously.
 
You can’t just ignore it.’

Hm.
 
She certainly has a
point about that.
 
But has Amanda
unknowingly just inferred something about her own friend Casey? Not that we
haven’t all been wondering the same thing:

Why hasn’t Casey Mulreed gone to rehab?

Why is she working harder than ever on a painful, biographical drama
about her own addiction? All the while surrounded by the industry and TV
writers who notoriously possess some of the worst, most addictive vices in
Hollywood? Are we letting a young and bright star risk her life and wellness
just to put on a show for us? And most importantly, is TV really what Casey
should be doing at this crucial point in her life of addiction?

Want this longtime Hollywood journalist’s take on the matter?

The answer is a resounding ‘no.’
 
Get Casey Mulreed into rehab STAT — before we lose her forever.”

For those of you who couldn’t tell, that was a total act on Miss
Nathan’s part.
 
Pretending to be so
lost in thought that she slips up and reminds the world that Casey is still a
raging alcoholic and substance addict who needs professional help? We don’t
think so.
 
The girl is trying to
get her competition locked up at Crossroads and she’ll act as innocent as she
can till Casey’s brainwashed into doing nothing but yoga for the rest of her
life.

Really.
 
Don’t be fooled by
America’s Sweetheart.
 
You might
think it’s a bit extreme to call Amanda Nathan a slithery, slimy,
bottom-feeding snake but at the very least you can admit the bitch is one hell
of a
bad
friend
.

Chapter 6

Really, doll?

Amanda’s eyes
were unblinking, her stomach twisting much more than it should for someone
reading a mere two-word text message.
 
But to her credit, the text was from Casey and contact from Casey these
days was essentially equal to a threat of some sort, no matter what what she
said in how many words.
 
A hand on
her midsection, Amanda tried to convince herself that her sudden nausea was
thanks to going over the bridge in the backseat of Liam’s Mercedes.
 
But in reality, she knew it had more to
do with Casey.

And stupid Fleur
Magazine.

They had
completely screwed her with their angle on Casey’s lack of rehabilitation.
 
If she remembered correctly, her
interviewer had claimed she would keep any further quotes about Ian off the
record for his sake, including the completely harmless things she had said
about rehab
 
— the things
that ended up being spun into some judgmental angle about Casey and her own
addiction.

“Come on.
 
Let go of that thing.”
 
Liam reached for her phone, letting go
of a sigh when Amanda held it away.
 
“Casey’s been around long enough to know that magazines spin stories
too.
 
Just relax and ignore
her.
 
She can’t do anything to
you.”

Except she can
, Amanda swallowed
hard.
 
And I wish I could tell you what
.
 
She had considered it for a second — spilling about
Casey’s hack into her inbox, about her knowledge of their entire contract.
 
But she’d kept the secret from Liam for
far too long already and even if it was faulty logic, Amanda reasoned that it
was best not to reveal such incredibly stressful news when the whole situation
could still very well be saved.
 
Somehow.
 
Perhaps it would
take some shameless groveling.

casey.
 
not only was i off the record, fleur twisted my words completely. trust
me when i say that i have no interest in trying to take you away from your
job.
 
the only tv show i’m
concerned with is Leadoff.
 
if you
want, i’ll release a statement to clear things up.
 
i can say that i know you’re being completely responsible by
seeking help privately.
 
if I do
that, will you please let this go?

“Shit,” she
heard Liam mutter, tapping around on his on phone as she hit ‘Send.’
 
“Terrence wants me to meet him on
Eighty-Fourth Street to see if I can run six miles in forty minutes.”

Amanda’s eyes
darted up at him.
 
“Excuse me?”
Liam only grimaced in response.
 
“Are you serious?”

“No.
 
I just wanted get your attention away
from Casey.”
 
He broke into a laugh
when Amanda simply blinked at him.
 
“Amanda.
 
You have enough to
think about with Vogel and the guys from work and
Leadoff
.
 
You don’t
have to entertain Casey’s middle school drama.
 
Just pretend she doesn’t exist.
 
Like you never even met her.”

“I can’t just
pretend she doesn’t exist,” Amanda sputtered incredulously.
 
“Even if she didn’t — ” She
stopped herself, realizing that she’d been on her way to slipping about the
hack into her inbox.
 
Amanda
paused, looking out the window as she gathered herself and organized her
thoughts.
 
She squinted at the sign
reading “Willis Avenue Bridge,” wondering where Liam was even taking her for
dinner, though she didn’t linger on the thought for too long.
 
Taking in a deep but quiet breath, she
started over.
 
“Casey ruined Ian’s
whole life and his whole future.
 
I’m not going to just forget that she exists.”

“She didn’t ruin
his life.”

Amanda turned to
Liam, cocking her head.
 
“She
triggered his addiction again by convincing the entire world to hate him for
something she told him to do.
 
That’s not easy to move past when no one forgets anything anymore.
 
Everything’s online forever.
 
You can’t even Google his name without
seeing pictures of him drunk or high or in rehab.”

Liam shrugged,
checking ESPN on his phone.
 
“Tell
him to do something with himself.
 
Once he has a job people will start paying attention to that.”

Amanda stared at
him, her brows knitting at his lack of sensitivity.
 
“No one in the industry is going to give him the opportunity
to work for them at this point.
 
Even if they didn’t care about all the things that happened, they’d
probably be too afraid to piss off the Mulreed family.”

“They’re
powerful.”

“Yes, I
know.
 
Thanks.”

Liam smirked up
at her.
 
“Why are you getting so
worked up over this?”

“
Because
.”

“Well in that
case.”

“Because I still
feel guilty about him.
 
Ian.
 
He was the one who got me here.
 
He helped make my life here and I
helped destroy his by bringing Casey into it — even when you warned me
about her.”
 
Amanda winced, amazed
at how clueless and incredibly foolish she’d been just months ago.
 
“I was dumb and naive and entirely too
trusting and there ended up being consequences for it.”
 
Ones
that are still haunting me.
 
Amanda swallowed hard.
 
“I
screwed so so many things by being just…
stupid
.”

“You weren’t
stupid, Amanda, you were normal.
 
And
good and caring.
 
It’s everyone
else who isn’t.
 
Don’t beat
yourself up over being one of the only people in the industry who didn’t
completely screw someone over at some point just to get to where they are.”

Amanda stared
down at her wringing hands.
 
“I
screwed Ian over.”

“Ian’s not your
problem anymore.”

Amanda made a
face at him.
 
“He was never my
problem, he was my
friend
.
 
Like a big brother — or a younger
brother, maybe.
 
I don’t know.
 
But for someone who grew up without
siblings, he was the closest thing I had to one and you’re the one who said how
important it is to have family when you’re in this business.
 
They remind you of who you are and how
you started.”

“Well don’t
remind Ian that he was a screw up before he even met you.”

She glared.
 
“I always meant to ask you this but
why
have you always hated him so much?”

Liam laughed as
he rolled his window down, glancing out.
 
“I never hated Ian, I could just tell who he was from the second I met
him.”

“And who was
that?” Amanda challenged.
 
Liam
replied with ease.

“Someone too
eager.
 
The type of guy who gets
eaten up alive because he gets so easily excited, riled up.
 
Makes stupid decisions because he gets
ahead of himself and fantasizes about the outcome of things before they even
start.
 
And all that blinds him to
the fact that he’s being screwed over.
 
Which is how Casey got him.”

Amanda
blinked.
 
Her eyebrows had
gradually risen higher and higher throughout Liam’s evaluation.
 
It was surprisingly on point.

“I never hated
him,” Liam clarified.
 
“I just knew
he’d end up someone’s burden, probably yours.
 
It’s either predator or prey and he was the latter.”

“Let me guess
— you’re a predator.”

He smirked.
 
“I was.”

Amanda
snorted.
 
“So, what am I? The
prey?” she asked, trying not to look as curious as she was about his response.
 
But since she was still waiting for a
reply from Casey, Amanda couldn’t help putting more weight on Liam’s answer
than she knew was rational.
 
Please don’t let me be the prey
, she
hoped silently.
 
But just as Liam
opened his mouth to answer, her phone vibrated.
 
Oh God
.
 
Knowing well who it was from, Amanda
noted the timing and peeked down at the text message with dread squeezing at
the pit of her stomach.

This time,
Casey’s reply was a single word.

Fine
.

Closing her
eyes, Amanda let go of a breath.

Thank God
.

She wasn’t
foolish enough to think that she’d just solved her problem completely but she
had at least bought time to think about her next stop.
 
Maybe
I can hire a private investigator.
 
Maybe he can dig something up on Casey and we can all call a truce
,
Amanda thought for a moment before snorting inwardly at herself.
 
Yeah
.
 
I’ll
keep brainstorming
.

“Sorry.
 
Putting it away,” she apologized to
Liam, tossing her phone into her chevron tote.
 
“What were we talking about?”

“How you’re a
predator.”

Amanda felt her
eyebrows lift, surprised by his answer.
 
She tried not to look too pleased by it.
 
“Really?”

“You catch on
too fast to be the prey,” Liam said with a grin.
 
“Considering everything you made for yourself in just six
months here.”

“Well, a lot of
it — ”

“You can’t
credit Ian for all of that.
 
Especially when he spent less than a quarter of that time with a clean
nasal passage.”
 
Liam’s look was
unrepentant when she narrowed her eyes at his phrasing.
  
He gave a one-shouldered
shrug.
 
“You had connections to get
here but you earned everything you got once you were here on your own.
 
You have a way of drawing people in and
charming the hell out of them in a minute flat.
 
Wendy.
 
Vogel.
 
Like I told you,
you’re natural and nice and,” he laughed, “People aren’t used to that so they
want to be around it.
 
And you’re
smart enough to turn these relationships with people into jobs, which is what
makes you a predator and not the prey.”

“So I’m one of
the nice predators,” Amanda smiled.

Liam laughed.
 
“If you need to put it in Disney movie
terms, yes.”

She snorted,
rolling her eyes at him.
 
“You know
what, maybe I’m actually not as nice as everyone thinks.”

“You did
threaten to kill me the other day in Chelsea.”

“Only out of
love,” Amanda laughed, though she immediately blushed at the suggestion of love
of any sort.
 
It was the first time
she’d even mentioned that word to Liam.
 
Cautiously, she peered up at him.
 
To both her relief and chagrin, he didn’t appear to have any reaction
out of the ordinary.
 
It was just
the usual smirk.

“I hate to break
it to you in case you were hoping to hear otherwise, but you’re a good
person.
 
If you weren’t, you
wouldn’t be so damned loyal to Ian.
 
And you probably wouldn’t have kicked your best pair of shoes into the
pool for me the other night.”
 
A
glimmer danced Liam’s his dark eyes as he laughed.
 
“Were you planning on pulling me out of the water yourself?”

“Only so I could
kill you with my own hands, as promised.”

“I can live with
that.
 
As long as it would’ve been
out of love.”

Amanda’s eyes
fluttered at the word.
 
She peered
up at Liam despite feeling her cheeks grow hot.
 
He gave her a crooked little smile before nodding out the
window.

“Come on.
 
We’re here.”

“Where?” Amanda
asked curiously.
 
Turning to look out
the window, she broke into an immediate smile, her eyes lighting up to match
the delight spreading her lips.
 
She stared for a second longer before she burst out laughing.
 
“
This
is where we’re having dinner?”

~

Lining her foot
one before the other, Amanda took little steps on the white-painted grass,
tracing the shape of the interlocking “N” and “Y” with her blue leather
sandals.
 
It was her first time in
the Bronx and her first time at Yankee Stadium.

It was also her
first time standing on an actual ballpark field.
 
It was like nothing she’d ever felt before.
 
The view of the endless green and
towering lights from behind home plate was utterly majestic and breathtaking
and filled her with a rush of adrenaline so intoxicating that she was convinced
in the moment that she could conquer the world.
 
Or at least New York.
 
All she wanted was to just sprint across the grass with her arms
outstretched, perhaps do a few cartwheels if she still remembered how.