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Sep 09, 2022 9:27 pm
Happy Friday!
Um, where has this week gone? 😮 I blinked and it's Friday, how did that happen? Little Man started big school this week, so that's been an adjustment and Little Lady began daycare. You'd think I'd have all this free time these days, but I feel like I get home, eat, and then I have to go pick someone up!
I've been working away as best I can and my project of the week is Abel and Scout for Hollywood Humbug.
Here's a sneak peek at their meet-cute ...
I swiped the key card in the hotel room door and pushed it open, letting myself in. Unsurprisingly, the curtains were still drawn, and the room was blacked out. The soft sound of snores drifted from the bed, and I rolled my eyes.
How predictable he was.
I made my way in, grabbing the curtains as I yanked them open, blinding him with bright sunlight. He groaned and rolled over, throwing his arm over his eyes.
“What the fuck?”
“Good morning, Abel. It is a bright and sunny Tuesday morning with a high of 66 and a low of 61. On the docket today is a talk show of Christmas festivities. Yay!”
He peeled his arm away from his eyes and glared. “Who the hell are you? Did Darren send you?” There’s no ‘yay’ about this. I don’t do talk shows, especially daytime ones.”
“Oh, duh. How rude of me.” I boinked my forehead and rolled my eyes. “My name is Scout Jensen, and yes, Darren sent me. We’re going to clean up your act together. In fact, we’ll make you squeaky clean by the new year.”
“This is a shit joke. Go away.” He rolled over like he was going back to sleep, so I yanked on the bed covers.
“The network is on the verge of firing you. So, if you want to be a working actor in Hollywood until you choose to retire, you’ll get up and listen to me. I’m here to save your career. You have two seconds to decide if you’re serious about continuing to be employable. Or should I call your agent and tell him to scrap all the projects he has lined up for you?”
He rolled over and pulled the duvet over his shoulder, snuggling back in. I stood there for about two-point-five seconds before nodding and walking over to the table laden with last night’s room service. I found what I was looking for—the ice bucket. Still half-frozen but mostly ice water, which was exactly what I needed.
Picking it up quietly, I walked to the edge of the bed and gripped the duvet before pulling it back with one hard yank. Then, as he turned to shout at me, I did a Dorothy-like swing to soak the wicked witch—or in this case, Abel Clarke.
“What the fuck!” he shouted as he was showered with the freezing cold water. Rivulets of water raced down his chest, letting my eyes drift over his hardened pecs and abs, drawing my attention to the touch of hair right above his boxer briefs. Of course, he had a treasure trail, but the most notable feature was that he was sporting an enormous morning wood.
With his soaked boxers, the fabric only clung more to the length that stood at attention, staring me down almost as much as he was. I swallowed hard.
Good Lord, he could destroy a woman’s uterus with that thing.
I yanked my eyes away from him, back to his face, not that the view was any better for being less distracting. But I had a job to do, and I needed to get it done. I needed this job more than anything. The agency promised me a top spot with a portfolio of big-name actors if I could turn Abel’s career around and get a handle on him.
“Well, you shouldn’t have ignored my alarm.”
“You,” he said, pointing at me. “You set the alarm on my phone this morning!” I shrugged, and he sneered. “And how the hell did you manage that?”
I lifted my phone for him to see. “I have a friend—bit of a genius, actually—she gave me some software that allowed me to mirror your phone simply by being near it. Which I was, at yesterday’s wrap party.” I smiled, “Plus, your passcode isn’t that secure ‘11112’ will not keep anybody out anytime soon.”
He scowled at me. “This is an invasion of privacy.”
“You’ve been a very bad boy this year, Abel Clarke, and Santa has put you on the naughty list. Only good boys get privacy. Bad boys get monitoring, which is exactly what I’m doing. Think of me as your corrections officer. There isn’t a single thing you can do that I won’t know about. So, you can cooperate or try to make my life difficult, which will only make your life difficult. Are we on the same page?”
He ground his teeth together, looking like a toddler on the verge of a tantrum. “No.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“No.”
I smiled. “You don’t have any choice. You do what I say. Your days of choosing to do whatever you want, whenever you want, are over. I’m here as—”
“—my babysitter,” he cut me off. “Yeah, I got that. But babysitters don’t choose the schedule. They’re here to watch the children do what they want.”
“Not infants who have proven they cannot be responsible for making good decisions. Until the agency says otherwise, I’m in charge, whether you like it or not. And I say you have a daytime talk show to do this morning.” Since it was after 6 AM and he was soaking wet, out of courtesy, I headed to the bathroom, grabbed a towel, and returned to him, tossing it in his face. “Dry yourself off and get dressed. We have to get to the studio in—” I checked my phone “—forty minutes. Don’t worry about your hair. They can fix it there.”
He continued to stare at me, and I wondered if he was just trying to find a way to push back a little bit more. Finally, he relented.
“Maybe you can invade my privacy with my phone, but at the very least, you can leave while I dress.”
I made a face. “I can’t. Frankly, I can’t trust you. So, I’ll sit right here, and I promise to close my eyes when you take your boxers off, but you’ll have to get dressed with me watching because I’m not risking you going back to sleep on the non-wet side of the bed.”
“You are a pain in the ass.”
I nodded in agreement. “Of the highest order. It’s actually what I got my bachelor's in.” I gave him a shit-eating grin before turning, plunking my ass down in the sitting chair. I crossed my legs and flicked open my inbox to check emails.
“Tick, tock, Abel. We need to get going.”
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That's it from me! Much love,
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