Morgan.
“I was just helping Mr. Jaxon find...”
“That’s not your job! I texted you five minutes ago. Why haven’t you responded yet?”
“Sorry, I just got distracted helping—” She pointed at me.
“You don’t get distracted on my watch.” He stepped toward her, getting in her face.
I resisted the urge to push him away, my muscles straining as I stood my ground. I hated the way he spoke to her.
“You do what I say, when I say it. You respond to my texts immediately...not when the hell you’re ready, but when I’m ready! And I was ready five fucking minutes ago!”
Morgan flinched as some flyaway spittle landed on her cheek. Her finger was shaking as she nipped it off her face, but her voice remained calm. “What is it you need me to do?”
“Read your damn text messages!” He flicked his hand at her, indicating she head for the door.
With a small nod, she slunk past him, lifting her phone and clearing the text as she exited the room.
My fingers curled into a fist as he turned to face me, shaking his head with an eye roll as if I should somehow sympathize with his plight.
Grinding my teeth together, I forced a tight-lipped smile. “Do you have to talk to her that way? She was just helping me out.”
Travis froze, his easy grin disappearing. His beady eyes narrowed a touch further as he studied me.
I felt like a kid in the principal’s office, beads of sweat breaking out on the back of my neck as I stood tall against his glare.
Straightening my shoulders, I lifted my chin to the door. “She works so hard for you. She’s probably the best gofer I’ve ever seen on a set. She uses her initiative, she goes the extra mile, she’s intelligent. Everyone thinks she’s great.” I crossed my arms, still unnerved by his unflinching expression. “I just don’t understand why you have to treat her so bad all the time. You don’t talk to Lisa like that.”
“I used to.” He crossed his arms, his eyes sparking. “Sean, are you questioning my methods?”
Rubbing a hand over my head, I rested my hand on my hip, hoping the stance looked casual. “I mean no disrespect, but yeah, I guess I am.”
“I wouldn’t.” His voice was sharp and metallic.
“Excuse me?”
His face exploded with a broad smile as he chuckled and shook his finger at me. “You know the best thing about being showrunner, Sean?”
I shook my head, an edge of warning creeping up my spine.
“This is my show, and I can do whatever I want with it. In fact, just the other day, I was chatting to a fellow producer and we were talking about what makes good television. You know what we both decided?” He spread his hands in the air, as if selling me the world’s best idea. “Drama. Shocking, unexpected drama. People say they hate it, but in truth, the audience lives for those surprises. Take for example Superstar . Can you imagine the reaction we’d get if, say, Harley disappeared off the show?”
I swallowed, my stomach twisting into a tight knot.
“Maybe he’s contacted by a European dance troupe and leaves to follow that dream. Or maybe he dies in a car accident.”
The cheeriness of his voice was like acid in my ears. I held my head high, keeping my expression bland in spite of the scowl I wanted to throw at him.
“Wow, Sasha’s story would take on a whole new twist, don’t you think? The impact of his death would be huge for her storyline. Now let’s think about the impact Harley’s departure would have on your story, Sean.”
There was that damn finger again. I wanted to grab it and snap it right off his hand.
“I’m the son of one of the richest men in Hollywood. I have connections everywhere . You, on the other hand, are a B-grade actor, desperately trying to make your mark in the entertainment business, and so far the only thing people really remember you for is a shocking incident with Abigail Tripoli. Yikes. Wouldn’t want that to rear its ugly head again, would we?”
My lips pressed into a
“I was just helping Mr. Jaxon find...”
“That’s not your job! I texted you five minutes ago. Why haven’t you responded yet?”
“Sorry, I just got distracted helping—” She pointed at me.
“You don’t get distracted on my watch.” He stepped toward her, getting in her face.
I resisted the urge to push him away, my muscles straining as I stood my ground. I hated the way he spoke to her.
“You do what I say, when I say it. You respond to my texts immediately...not when the hell you’re ready, but when I’m ready! And I was ready five fucking minutes ago!”
Morgan flinched as some flyaway spittle landed on her cheek. Her finger was shaking as she nipped it off her face, but her voice remained calm. “What is it you need me to do?”
“Read your damn text messages!” He flicked his hand at her, indicating she head for the door.
With a small nod, she slunk past him, lifting her phone and clearing the text as she exited the room.
My fingers curled into a fist as he turned to face me, shaking his head with an eye roll as if I should somehow sympathize with his plight.
Grinding my teeth together, I forced a tight-lipped smile. “Do you have to talk to her that way? She was just helping me out.”
Travis froze, his easy grin disappearing. His beady eyes narrowed a touch further as he studied me.
I felt like a kid in the principal’s office, beads of sweat breaking out on the back of my neck as I stood tall against his glare.
Straightening my shoulders, I lifted my chin to the door. “She works so hard for you. She’s probably the best gofer I’ve ever seen on a set. She uses her initiative, she goes the extra mile, she’s intelligent. Everyone thinks she’s great.” I crossed my arms, still unnerved by his unflinching expression. “I just don’t understand why you have to treat her so bad all the time. You don’t talk to Lisa like that.”
“I used to.” He crossed his arms, his eyes sparking. “Sean, are you questioning my methods?”
Rubbing a hand over my head, I rested my hand on my hip, hoping the stance looked casual. “I mean no disrespect, but yeah, I guess I am.”
“I wouldn’t.” His voice was sharp and metallic.
“Excuse me?”
His face exploded with a broad smile as he chuckled and shook his finger at me. “You know the best thing about being showrunner, Sean?”
I shook my head, an edge of warning creeping up my spine.
“This is my show, and I can do whatever I want with it. In fact, just the other day, I was chatting to a fellow producer and we were talking about what makes good television. You know what we both decided?” He spread his hands in the air, as if selling me the world’s best idea. “Drama. Shocking, unexpected drama. People say they hate it, but in truth, the audience lives for those surprises. Take for example Superstar . Can you imagine the reaction we’d get if, say, Harley disappeared off the show?”
I swallowed, my stomach twisting into a tight knot.
“Maybe he’s contacted by a European dance troupe and leaves to follow that dream. Or maybe he dies in a car accident.”
The cheeriness of his voice was like acid in my ears. I held my head high, keeping my expression bland in spite of the scowl I wanted to throw at him.
“Wow, Sasha’s story would take on a whole new twist, don’t you think? The impact of his death would be huge for her storyline. Now let’s think about the impact Harley’s departure would have on your story, Sean.”
There was that damn finger again. I wanted to grab it and snap it right off his hand.
“I’m the son of one of the richest men in Hollywood. I have connections everywhere . You, on the other hand, are a B-grade actor, desperately trying to make your mark in the entertainment business, and so far the only thing people really remember you for is a shocking incident with Abigail Tripoli. Yikes. Wouldn’t want that to rear its ugly head again, would we?”
My lips pressed into a
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