Edible: The Sex Tape by Cassia Leo

The Meeting
Present Day
    A t twenty-six years old , I was pretty proud of the fact I’d never actually been on a job interview. In fact, I was so proud of this that, as I walked into the lobby at Pringle & Windsor Management, I was certain my confidence alone would get me a contract. It didn’t matter that Pringle & Windsor was the most prestigious entertainment agency in the business. It didn’t matter that I was coming in here asking for representation after a falling out with my previous agent. It didn’t even matter that I was fresh off a two-year stint in county lockup. I was certain the moment I walked into that office and turned on my charm, Barry Pringle would sign me right there on the spot.
    I’ve never been more wrong.
    The lobby at Pringle & Windsor’s Manhattan office is modern and cold. The boxy gray sofas with no arms and asymmetrical glass coffee table look like they could take an eye out if you tripped in here. I approach the receptionist with her sleek black hair pulled back in a ponytail and her blunt-cut bangs half covering her vibrant blue eyes.
    “I have a ten o’clock with Mr. Pringle.”
    She raises her eyebrows and draws in an exasperated breath as she shakes her head. “You obviously didn’t check your voicemail. Mr. Pringle had a family emergency. He tried to reschedule all of his appointments last night. He’ll be back from his ranch in Montana in eight days. You can wait until then or you can meet with another one of our agents. There are a few who’ve agreed to take his appointments.”
    “I came to see Barry. I can’t reschedule. I can’t book another trip to New York. And I can’t talk to another agent. This is my career.”
    She tilts her head looking unimpressed. “Those are your two options, sir. You can reschedule or you can see another agent.”
    I grit my teeth and take a deep breath. “Fine. What are the names of the other agents?”
    “We have Fred Burton, Jacob Waterstone, and Elara Brinkley. They are all taking Mr. Pringle’s appointments in the interim.”
    My lips curl into a warm smile as I run my hand over my half-inch of dark stubble covering my head. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
    She stares at me for a moment, unable to speak, then she shakes her head. “I’m Olive.”
    “Olive? What a beautiful name. Olive, I’m not sure if you know who I am.”
    “I do. You’re… You’re Max Milan…. You just got out of jail.”
    I nod slowly. “Correct. Do you listen to my music?”
    “Yeah. I love ‘Whipped.’ That was my favorite song last year.”
    I try to ignore the physical pain in my chest that comes when someone reminds me how popular I was last year. I was in prison last year. But during my twenty-two months in jail, the landscape of electronic dance music changed. There are more opportunities out there for EDM musicians than ever before.
    But I don’t want to take just any job. I want my penthouse back. I need an agent who can get me another Vegas contract.
    “Well, Olive, then you’ll appreciate how important it is that I meet with the right person today. Of the three agents you just named, who’s the youngest?”
    “Elara. She’s, like, twenty-six or twenty-seven and she just started working here a few months ago.”
    “And Barry trusts her with his clients?”
    “She’s really good. If you go with her, you’ll like her.”
    I hook my thumb into the pocket of my jeans and discreetly point to my crotch to focus Olive’s attention on my sizable bulge. “Do you think she’ll like me, Olive?”
    She blinks as she shifts her eyes away from my crotch to look me in the eye. “Yeah, yeah. Of course. She’ll definitely like you.”
    I wink one of my green eyes. “Good. Let’s reschedule with Elara.”
    Olive nods and picks up the handset on her corded phone. “Miss Brinkley? I have a Mr. Milan here to see you. Are you available?” Olive’s eyes dart toward my face and I wink at her again. She tries to suppress a smile as she goes