HDU #2: Dirt (21 page)

It’s like white hairs.
 
Get rid of one and three more pop up.

With one hand
holding her curtain open just enough to discreetly peer out, Amanda used her
other five fingers to type searches into four different tabs of apartment
rental websites on her laptop.
 
At
the same time, she curled her toes so her foot could grasp the pair of dark
wash fitted jeans laying at the foot of her bed.
 
She needed to get dressed if she wanted to leave for work in
ten minutes, so she could slip out the front door before sunrise.

Since the
release of her article in Fleur Magazine on Sunday, the public seemed to be
split down the middle regarding their feelings for Amanda.
 
But her job with
Leadoff
had been officially secured, which was all that really
mattered.
 
Unfortunately, the job
security didn’t quite mean that all her problems were over.
 
While she’d conquered that obstacle,
Amanda was beginning to take notice of new ones — one of which showed up
the night she’d gotten home from work on Friday.

Throughout the
weekend, Amanda was fairly certain she had noticed the green-capped paparazzo
on her block.
 
The strange,
green-capped,
camera-less
paparazzo.
 
Can
they even be considered paparazzi if they’re not taking pictures?
Amanda
had wondered.
 
While on the phone
with her parents on Saturday, she had gazed out the window to spot the man inside
the deli again, suddenly realizing how odd it was that strange men were allowed
to camp out outside her apartment and essentially stalk her whereabouts —
as long as they were holding cameras.
 
But what if they’re not holding a
camera one day? Are they still allowed to basically stalk me?

Knowing well
that she’d be unable to lie to him on the phone, Amanda had avoided Liam’s
calls on Saturday and Sunday, afraid that she’d slip about the strange man in
the green Mets cap and worry him.
 
Instead, she stuck to texting — short, vague texts because
apparently, her fingers were terrible at lying, too.

“God.”
 
Staring at the ridiculous price of a
one-bedroom in Gramercy Park, Amanda groaned and shut her laptop.

The other
problem that had arisen was in regards to her parents, whose sudden isolation
in Merit had inspired Amanda to hunt for a well-priced Manhattan apartment for
them — one that she could afford to pay for on her weekly staff writer’s
salary.

Apparently,
since Amanda had bought herself more time with
Leadoff
and had yet to be forced back home as predicted, her
neighbors in Merit had taken to unloading their resentment upon her
parents.
 
From what Amanda
understood from her mother, they were being shunned in their own town and all
thanks to the fact that their daughter had “once again humiliated and
disrespected Megan with that awful magazine story.”
 
And while she had gone back and forth between calm denial
and total hysterics, her mother had eventually decided that a short vacation to
New York was due — so she could see Amanda and decide whether or not
she’d like to move her entire life to the city in which she now lived, what
with Merit fully turning on her.

“Maybe we were
meant to retire in New York,” her father had suggested with his usual nonchalance.
 
“I have been taking to the Yankees
lately and I don’t think that makes me a bandwagoner because they’re not very
good at all this season.”

Amanda heaved a
sigh as she pulled her jeans on in the dark, once again peering out her window
at the sidewalk.
 
She had yet to
spot paparazzi or that one strange stalkerazzi.
 
Perhaps she’d come up with a good enough trick by keeping
her apartment lights off and deciding to leave for work at 5AM, even though she
wasn’t due in the writers room till 9AM.
 
Paparazzi simply wouldn’t guess that she’d leave the house so
early.
 
Plus, it was sill dark and
easier to slip out unnoticed.

A triumphant
grin on her lips, Amanda let go of the curtain.
 
The moment she did, her phone dinged with a text from Liam’s
ringtone.
 
But before she could
open it, the sudden shrill sound of her apartment buzzer went off.

“Holy shit!”

She jumped, her
heart instantly pounding in her chest.
 
It’s him
.
 
Her weird stalker with the green
cap.
 
He had seen her from outside
and he was through with just watching her.
 
He wanted in to her apartment.

Grabbing her
phone, Amanda unlocked her screen to call 911.
 
But first, her eyes locked on Liam’s text message.

Yeah that was me.

Shoulders
slumping, her eyes fluttered with relief then anger.
 
“What… the hell?” Opening her window and sticking her head
out, Amanda’s mouth fell open at the sight of Liam’s tall frame standing at the
front door of her building in a black zip-up hoodie and basketball shorts.
 
When his capped head turned up to look
at her with a crooked grin, she fought the urge to make any sort of noise.
 
She wasn’t sure if she wanted to squeal
with excitement or yell at Liam for already breaking Terrence’s contract so
biting her tongue, Amanda promptly shut the window, running to her buzzer to let
him in.

“What the hell
are you doing here?” she hissed the moment she opened the door for him, pulling
him inside by the cloth of his hoodie.
 
Sticking her head out the door, she did a quick check of the hallway
before slamming it shut and spinning around to narrow her eyes at Liam.
 
Trying to mask a grin, he held his
lower lip back between his teeth as she smacked his hard chest.

“You know I
hardly feel that.”

Amanda laughed
despite the anxiousness knitting her brow.
 
Gathering herself, she frowned again, giving Liam a small
shove that failed to move him an inch.
 
“Seriously, Liam, what are you doing here?”

“I needed to see
you before leaving.”

Amanda squinted,
shaking her head.
 
“Leaving?
Liam.
 
It hasn’t even been a week
since we signed Terrence’s contract and you’re already breaking it.”

“I’m disguised,”
he grinned, knowing well that he wasn’t.
 
Amanda flashed him a look.

“You’re not
exactly inconspicuous, Liam.
 
You
can’t hide six-four or your whole…
body
in general,” she said, trying to maintain her frown as he pulled her into
him.
 
Her palms instinctively
flattened against his chest, her whole body melting into his when he kissed the
top of her head.
 

“Sorry.
 
I went for a run and I told my feet not
to but they brought me here anyway.”

“You went for a
run at five in the morning?” Amanda asked in a small voice, her head still
resting against his chest.

“I’ve been
waking up at this hour since the morning we… broke up,” he said, laughing with
disdain at the end of his sentence.
 
“And I can’t really go back to sleep so I’ve been running.”

Amanda raised
her eyebrows, resting the point of her chin against his chest a she looked up
at him.
 
“No one sees you?”

Liam
shrugged.
 
“Five is as dead as it
gets in this city.”

“True.”
 
Amanda kept her eyes on him, looking up
as he looked down, his fingers entwined in her hair.
 
Squinting, she frowned again.
 
“What did you say before about leaving?” Her frown only
deepened as she watched Liam wince through his smile.

“You’re going to
kill me.”

Amanda pulled
away from him.
 
“Terrence.”

Liam
laughed.
 
“Smart girl.”

“God, what is he
making you do now?” Amanda let her head roll back with exasperation, groaning
as she pushed off of him.
 
Liam
caught her hands, keeping them pressed against his chest with a low chuckle.
 
She writhed away but he pulled her back
into his body.

“Just a scene
that was originally cut from the script,” he replied casually, taking her other
hand and wrapping her arms around his neck.
 
Despite her irritation, Amanda kept them there, scowling as
he kissed her lips.

“And what
exactly happens in this scene?”

“I… show what
John Camden was like was he was younger.
 
A little more reckless.”

“
More
reckless than when he was jumping
out of government airplanes?” Amanda pulled away.
 
“What kind of stunt is that going to require?”

“Jumping from a
bridge onto a bus.”

“
What?
” Stunned, Amanda’s lips contorted
into the beginnings of various sentence beginnings before finally spitting
something out.
 
“That is
actually
insane! You already broke your foot,
Liam, you’re basically guaranteed to hurt yourself again! Does Terrence even
realize what he’s doing here?”

“He knows
exactly what he’s doing.”

“What do you
mean?”

Liam ran his
hand over his lips, eyeing Amanda with actual hesitation.
 
“The scene probably won’t make the final
cut.
 
Terrence just wants to film
it and bring the headlines back to the movie.
 
People know I’m already banged up.
 
This’ll get a reaction out of them.”

Unblinking,
Amanda could feel the fire absolutely blazing in her eyes as she stared at
Liam.
 
“You’re telling me that
Terrence is risking your life
worse
than he did last time just to distract the world from us? For a scene that
won’t even be
used
?”

Liam exhaled,
leaning against the dining table.
 
After several moments of silence, it became apparent that he had nothing
left to say.
 
Amanda stared at him,
at the bruises still visible on his body despite the hoodie, at the wrap around
his left wrist.

“If it makes you
feel better, I’ve already gone this far for the movie, Amanda,” Liam finally
said, hands in his pockets.
 
“This
scene isn’t much considering what I’ve already given up for Terrence,” he said,
looking her in the eye.
 
What I made you give up
.
 
Amanda swallowed, guilty.
 
She looked down at her bare feet.

“How long will
you be gone?”

“I’m flying out
tonight.
 
Terrence’ll be on my ass
so I probably won’t get the chance to call as much, but I’ll be back in a
week.”
 
Liam pulled her in again
and tipped her chin up.
 
“Hey.”
 
He smiled down at the faint pout on her
lips.
 
“I get why you’re mad.
 
I think this whole thing is pretty
damned stupid, too.
 
But I’ve
committed to this movie beyond a hundred percent at this point.
 
If I already agreed to spend the next
eight months sneaking around just to see you then doing this stupid jump is
nothing in comparison.
 
I’ll make
sure I won’t hurt myself.”

Amanda stared
straight ahead at his chest, defeated as her fingers absently played with his
zipper.
 
“Fine,” she exhaled,
offering a tired smile.
 
“Maybe
it’s better that you miss my first week back at
Leadoff
.
 
I’m just
going to be venting all week.
 
That
writers room definitely still doesn’t think I belong there.”
 
Because
technically, I don’t.

“You’ll prove
them wrong,” Liam said, earnest before his lips turned up in a smirk.
 
“Maybe I should call Connor in the
meantime.
 
He’ll keep them in
line.”

“Yeah, no.”

“I know.
 
You can do it on your own,” Liam said,
brushing Amanda’s hair back behind her ear.
 
“You’re going to be fine.”

I hope so
.
 
“And you better be too.
 
If you get hurt, I’m flying to location and coming after
you.
 
That is not a joke.”

“Hope I get hurt
then.”

“Liam.”

“I’m
kidding.
 
I’ll be fine.”

“Good.”
 
Amanda nodded, trying to convince
herself that everything could in fact be completely smooth sailing.
 
She returned to resting her head on his
chest, a small smile twisting her lips as his hands crept under her shirt to
rest on the bare small of her back.
 
“Well let’s just survive this week and report back to each other when
it’s over.
 
I’m sure everything
will be okay.”

Chapter 13

Again, didn’t get the memo.

Willing her
cheeks to stop burning, Amanda quietly opened the door to the writers’ room,
surprised but hardly shocked by the fact that everyone was already inside and
engrossed in some serious conversation that no one had bothered informing her
about.
 
They hardly looked up at
her when she walked in, dragging a chair over to take a seat at the tight space
between Bird and Skip, the latter of whom audibly groaned the second she sat.
 
Dick
.

“Amanda.
 
Hi,” Tom finally said, glancing at her
briefly before turning his tense attention back to the papers before him.
 
“I guess we should fill you in on the
fact that ZINC has ordered us to completely rewrite our sixth episode.
 
Three days before our premiere party
and a week before our television premiere.”

Amanda raised
her eyebrows in surprise.
 
“The
sixth episode… isn’t that our season finale?”

“Technically,
since we’ve only been picked up for a half season thus far.”

“Didn’t we
already shoot the sixth episode?” Amanda asked, ignoring the round of low
groans from the table of writers, who’d apparently had enough of her questions
after just two.

“Yes, we already
shot it,” Tom grumbled.
 
“And ZINC
would make us reshoot the whole season if they didn’t already spend all that
cash on it.
 
Now, they’re giving us
seven million for the sixth episode, which is our last chance at saving the
whole show and making Milo
edgy
and
interesting
enough that the network
would be willing to invest in the rest of the season,” he sneered, nodding out
the window.
 
“Up the drama so he
can be as raw and strung out as those two
Legacy
girls on the Cinereel billboard.
 
Because ZINC would rather have no show than a show that is even slightly
rivaled by one on Cinereel.”
 
Tom
tossed his pen aside.
 
Amanda had
never seen anyone look so defeated.
 
Eyes downcast, he drew in a deep breath.
 
“Which means we’re selling out already.
 
If we don’t come up with something
dramatic enough for the network, we’re not getting picked up for the second
half of the season,” he said all in one exhale.

Amanda’s eyes
blinked wide.
 
For some reason, she
had never anticipated that her job with
Leadoff
would ever be on the line for reasons of cancellation.
 
Tom Vogel was a TV legend, he wasn’t
supposed to get cancelled — even if the media was beginning to peg him as
a bit too subtle and slow-paced for the new generation.
 
But as she scanned the room of writers
too dejected to speak let alone make their usual jokes, Amanda could tell that
cancellation was actually more than probable.
 

“I’m… sure we
can
think
of something,” she finally
said, though she immediately regretted speaking at all when all the writers
shot her a look as if she were an idiot.

“Of course we
can think of something,” Skip said, brushing bagel crumbs off of his beat up
Yankees jersey.
 
“It’s just a
matter of whether or not it’s a shitty enough idea to appease the idiot
audiences today.”

Tom heaved a
sigh and clarified.
 
“Audiences now
just want is to see instant drama and drugs and sex and skin, which is
apparently what Casey is delivering.
 
So yes, we can think of something.
 
We just need to ruin the integrity of this script and dumb ourselves
down about a hundred notches.”

“So, maybe it’s
a good thing we kept this one after all,” Fish muttered, nodding toward
Amanda.
 
Amanda couldn’t stop herself
from shooting him a look, which prompted halfhearted snorts from around the
table.

“Fish.”
 
Tom managed a tired warning.

“Seriously
though.”

Amanda felt her
skin prickle in anticipation of a confrontation.
 
“Seriously what?” she forced herself to challenge Fish, who
turned to her with dull eyes while the rest of the room looked up with
reluctant curiosity.

“‘Seriously, you
weren’t hired for your writing skills, you were hired because you’re a
twenty-three-year-old tabloid princess who had a chance of helping us attract
the younger demographic.
 
Also
known as the idiot demographic that can’t sit through an hour of TV without
nine sex scenes and at least two people taking their shirts off for no reason.”

Amanda cursed
her reddening cheeks.
 
“How old are
you
anyway?”

“Twenty-seven.”

She snorted.

“Go ahead and
laugh but I worked hard for my job, unlike you,” Fish said, leaning back in his
chair and looking deliberately relaxed as he turned the bill of his baseball
cap backward.
 
His flannel
button-up fell open to reveal yet another Brown University T-shirt.
 
“I was an intern less than a year ago
and now I’m a story editor.
 
Because
I know what good TV is and good TV isn’t the type of crap that is loved by the
same people who made you famous.
 
It isn’t stupid bullshit that requires no development or thinking,
that’s just bam, bam, bam, sex, drugs and nothing else.”

Amanda glared,
in awe of Fish’s self-absorbed arrogance.
 
And presumptuousness.
 
“You’re right.
 
I didn’t get
my job the same way you did but that doesn’t mean I have no idea how to do it,”
she said between her teeth.

“True.
 
You got my coffee right last week, so props
for that.”

Are you kidding me
.
 
Stunned, Amanda could only stare at
Fish, who returned to clicking around on his laptop with boredom.
 
Once quiet resumed for more than two
seconds, Amanda dared to peer around the table, none too surprised to see everyone
either smirking or holding back laughter.
 
Meanwhile, Tom rested his head in his hands at the end of the
table.
 
Finally, he heaved a sigh.

“Amanda.”

She looked up,
an eyebrow cocked.

“I…” he
groaned.
 
“I know this is the
shittiest timing in the world but I’m about to implode if I don’t down like,
three shots of espresso right now.”

Amanda stared,
ignoring the tittering of the grown men around her.
 
Now you’ve really got
to be kidding me.

“I’m sorry,
really,” Tom mumbled, rubbing between his eyebrows.
 
“Just get a venti Dark Roast with a couple shots of espresso
and then like, plain coffees for the rest of these guys.
 
We won’t let them pick and choose their
orders today,” he said, as if it made her Starbucks run so much less
degrading.
 
Amanda could hardly
believe what she was hearing.
 
Despite fighting it, she allowed herself to peer up at Fish, who
continued clicking away on his laptop but now wearing the smuggest smile that
she’d ever seen on someone who wasn’t playing the Joker in a Batman movie.
 
Jesus,
this room really could not hate me more, she realized with bitter awe.
 
And this day could not possibly get
worse.

“Use this
company card,” Tom said, handing over an American Express.
 
“Honestly, I’d do it myself ‘cause I
could use the fresh air,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “But I
need to stick around because our saving grace is arriving any second.”

Amanda squinted
quizzically.

“Our new
consultant,” Tom clarified.
 
“He’ll
be arriving any second now.
 
You
might know him, actually.”

Amanda paused as
she stood from her chair.
 
“Really.
 
Who?”

Her jaw clenched
as she took an educated guess as to who might become the newest member of the
Leadoff
staff.
 
Actually, I was wrong.
 
This
day
could
very possibly get worse
,
she realized as Tom casually answered her question.

“Connor
Shaffer.
 
He’ll be joining this
writers room from here on out.”

~

Squeezed into a
corner table, Amanda stared at her two trays of grande coffees.
 
She wasn’t sure how long she had been
sitting for or how cold the drinks were getting but she was almost positive she
didn’t care.
 
She needed some time
before going back to the writers room, especially if Connor was going to be in
there.
 
Amanda could already
imagine him fitting right in with the guys.
 
He’d be right there with them, condescending to her and
treating her like a brainless child.

And sending her
on these horribly degrading coffee runs.
 
The one thing Amanda could be grateful for was the lack of paparazzi
today.

“Um… Amanda
Nathan?”

Interrupting her
thoughts was a small, male voice she had never heard before.
 
Forcing herself to blink for the first
time in what felt like minutes, Amanda looked up in confusion.
 
Standing before her was a familiar
blonde boy whose face she couldn’t place for the first couple seconds.

Ah, she realized
upon noticing his ill-fitted button-up, brittle posture and shaky hands.
 
My
fellow office bitch.

“Hi,” Amanda
offered as much of a smile as she could muster.
 
“On a coffee run?” she asked, trying but failing to brighten
her voice.
 
Before the boy could
answer, the barista’s shout made him jump.

“Jake!”

Standing
suddenly at attention, Amanda watched the boy rush over to the bar to pick up
his drinks.
 
She tilted her head,
noticing that he walked with a limp.
 
For some reason, it surprised her.
 
Perhaps because he looked to her like some form of an athlete — an
oversized gymnast or ballet dancer, maybe.
 
Though he obviously wasn’t.

Once he
retrieved his trays of drinks, Jake returned to Amanda.
 
She knew her smile was visibly
sympathetic — pitying even, but she couldn’t help it.
 
The kid was just a nervous wreck.
 
“Your office must be treating you as
horribly as they’re treating me,” Amanda mused with a dry laugh.

He managed a
smile.
 
“Um, no, not really,
they’re cool.
 
But I actually, um,
work in the same building as you.
 
Waltman
Global.”

Amanda raised
her eyebrows.
 
“Oh.
 
For which company?”

“Um, Klein
Sports.
 
It’s a sports management
company.”

“Cool.”
 
Amanda nodded, suddenly wondering why
Jake had approached her if he seemed so reluctant to speak.
 
“So…” She hoped for him to fill the
silence but he didn’t.
 
Still on
edge, Amanda couldn’t help blurting out her question.
 
“Is there anything in particular you wanted to talk to me
about?”

Jake’s blue eyes
fluttered nervously.
 
“Um,
yeah.
 
I, um…”

As he stammered
through his sentence, Amanda’s eyes drifted over his shoulder and past
him.
 
“Oh God, paparazzi,” she
muttered under her breath before turning her attention back to Jake.
 
“I’m sorry, don’t let me interrupt
you.”

But it was too
late.
 
With a quick glance over his
shoulder to confirm the paparazzi, Jake all but dropped his trays down onto
Amanda’s table.
 
“I, uh, have to
go,” he said hastily, panic wide in his eyes.
 
Instead of rushing out the door as Amanda had expected,
however, Jake ducked his head and covered his face as he speed-walked into the
Starbucks bathroom.

Amanda stared,
bewildered.
 
What the hell just
happened? Picking up her trays of coffee for the writers room, she stood up,
ready to return to the office.
 

Leave it to that weird kid to always make me
feel better about myself.

~

“Jesus
Christ.
 
I can’t believe I ever
thought I’d stand a chance in this industry.”
 
Ian laughed quietly to himself as he sat with Amanda at the
window of the Midtown bagel shop across from the Waltman Global building.
 
Having slipped out of her house before
sunrise again, Amanda had found herself with hours to kill before work actually
started.

And she had also
found herself with a text message the second she emerged from her cab.
 
At 5:25AM.

From Casey.

Morning doll ;)

Just two words
and again, it was enough to strike immediate fear in Amanda’s heart.
 
After several seconds of spinning every
which way on the sidewalk in hopes of spotting Casey, she eventually ducked
into the nearby bagel store — the only place open on the block.
 
Hiding behind a poster on the window,
Amanda had spent the next twenty minutes switching between paranoia and
self-ridicule.
 
Holy shit, she’s watching me! But maybe
she’s not.
 
This was just good
timing — it’s Casey, after all.