Cut to the Chase by Lisa Girolami Page A

shit!”
    “Okaaaay.” Carmen looked down at some paperwork. “I’ll have the publicity department call you. Plan on going as soon as your book hits the shelves.”
    Paige managed to get out of Carmen’s office before the bonfire of fear raging inside her heated up to a complete meltdown. She tried to take deep breaths, even opening her mouth to gulp in some emergency relief, but nothing helped.
    She got outside and looked out onto Sunset Boulevard. Shiny, expensive cars passed with purpose as a faint, cool wind blew in from the direction of the ocean.
    Clutching her car keys, she contemplated a hasty disappearance act by driving out of town and not stopping until she reached some place where she could hole up with a bottle of booze and a dead cell phone. But those flights of fancy were reserved for people a lot less rational than she.
    Still, her breathing came with effort as she tried to remember where she’d parked.
    She closed her eyes and said to no one, “I’m in deep doo-doo.”

Chapter Nine
     
    Avalon gazed out over the expanse of the Pacific Ocean. The sea was calm that day and the marine layer was burning off quickly. Soon the sun would warm the water. How wonderful it would feel to be in a beach chair with her toes dug in the sand.
    “And as soon as I can arrange it, you’ll meet with Garrett Chain. He’s directing a huge production in Spain. I told him you’d be interested.” Billy Woods paced the floor. He did that quite a lot.
    Helen had been in the middle of reviewing Avalon’s schedule when Billy came by. Helen now busied herself with something on her iPad while Avalon listened to Billy with partial attention. His job was to take care of things, and details were considered things.
    Turning from the window, she crossed the path that Billy paced and sat on the couch. She tapped a rapid staccato on her thigh as she stared at her cell phone on the coffee table. With her toe, she moved it aside from what it had been sitting on—Paige’s business card.
    “Avalon?”
    “Hmmm?”
    “This is big.”
    “I know it is.”
    “I mean really big.”
    Her eyes stayed transfixed on the card. “Of course.”
    “You could easily double your salary. That is, if The Last Stand does well. Which it will.”
    “Uh-huh.” What was Paige doing at this very moment? Was she off photographing others for her book? If she had a new girlfriend, was she making her brunch?
    “So it’s a go, then?”
    She looked up. “Sure.”
    “I’m also asking that you get approval of the male lead.”
    “Righty-o.”
    “Great. I’ll be off, then.”
    As Billy let himself out the front door, she picked up Paige’s card. She fingered the raised ink, thinking about Paige’s skin and how soft it might be. Snippets of her wide and brilliant smile over the last few days cascaded through her mind, one after the other, like a parade of brightly colored floats on the Fourth of July.
     
    *
     
    Paige sat nervously waiting for Chris to join her at Cecil’s, their favorite beer joint. It was crowded for a Saturday afternoon, but she’d grabbed two seats at the bar. She usually stayed with Diet Coke, but a strong, stout ale sat in front of her, half-gone.
    “I got your cryptic but anxious text,” Chris said as she sidled onto the bar stool next to her. “What’s the hubbub about?”
    “My publisher is scheduling me for a book tour.”
    “Public speaking?”
    She nodded, too afraid to say it out loud.
    Chris caught the eye of the bartender and crooked her thumb toward Paige. “I’ll take whatever she’s having.” She turned back to Paige, shaking her head. “That’s like Harrison Ford hanging out with rats.”
    “Exactly.” She took a deep breath. “I can’t do… that .”
    “You’re an author. You have to sell your books.”
    “Isn’t that what the Internet is about?”
    “Selling means reading in front of people.”
    This time she whispered, as if the boogeyman were right behind her and she had to run. “I