Thank you to all of you have downloaded the books. I hope you’ve enjoyed them and if so (even if not), please leave a review at either Amazon or Goodreads. Your opinions do mean something–they mean a lot! As a show of appreciation, here is a snippet from the upcoming Not Like the Movies. Enjoy and as always, happy reading!
I stood towards the back of the lounge and watched as the different Hollywood types mingled amongst themselves. I wished Julian hadn’t dragged me here. I was a waste of space, sinking further and further into my surroundings and avoiding eye contact with anyone that wasn’t in a wait-staff uniform.
“You’re Julian Baker’s assistant, correct?”
I sighed heavily. I’d been found out. “Why the emphasis on assistant?” I said, turning towards the man that had addressed me stealthily. He was dressed smartly, in slacks and a sweater/button down combination.
He pushed his sliding glasses towards the bridge of his nose. “No one that reports on you thinks you’re just his assistant.”
“It must be nice making things up all day,” I countered and took a sip of my quickly diminishing red wine. I was going to kill Julian for dragging me to this. “I guess most people would rather do that than live in reality.”
“Is that why he’s looking at me like a sharp shooter?” He gestured to Julian, who was conversing with a bunch of suits—including one of those moguls whose name I should know, but didn’t—and had a murderous expression on his face. He was always one for the dramatics.
“He doesn’t like reporters.”
“He doesn’t like male reporters speaking to his female assistant.”
“You can try and get at whatever it is you want all day,” I said as evenly as possible. “There isn’t anything there, so feel free to continue fabricating your stories.”
He smirked. “I’d much rather take you to dinner.”
“I’d much rather continue to think on that.”
“Would you?” Julian said icily from behind me. I turned and met his cold gaze.
“Oh, Julian,” I said lightly, looking between him and my nameless conversation partner. “This is…” I put my hand out as I gestured towards the anonymous reporter. “I’m not sure I caught your name,” I said with a laugh.
“Eric Parker,” He answered, placing his hand out for Julian to shake. “I’m with The Hollywood Observer.”
Julian didn’t reciprocate the gesture. “That paper that is still clinging to relevance?” He asked, taking a sip of whiskey. “What do you need?”
“I was just having a conversation with your lovely assistant.”
“Look at her like that again and I’ll rip your eyes from their sockets.”
I felt flush. There he goes. “He really hates reporters,” I continued, trying to smooth over the conversation in light of Julian’s antics. How he thought it would be smart to threaten someone whose job it was to report on his improprieties to the masses amazed me.
“He would want to be protective of his assistant.”
“Okay, enunciate it like a normal person, would you?” I snapped. We understood the emphasis and still had no comment to make—so could we move on?
“If you agree to accompany me to dinner.”
“Ask her that again and I will break your jaw—”
“JULIAN!” I yelled before I meant to; he really needed to grow up. “I appreciate you being protective, but I’m a big girl.”
He cut me a look and I gave him one back.