Total Trainwreck by Evie Claire

around until it dissolves. Then offers it to me. “It’s a vitamin C and B-complex boost. Should help with jet lag and any bugs you might’ve picked up on the plane.” I side-eye the cup. “Oh, and it’s lime flavored.” She smiles even wider, obviously knowing.
    Assistant. I could get used to this . I accept the drink with a nod and take a tentative sip . Yeah, I could definitely get used to this.
    “Jane, was it?” I ask. She nods. “Tell me what exactly it is you do for me.”
    “Anything that will make your life easier. Whatever helps you focus on your role. I can do laundry, grocery shop, whatever.”
    In my hand, I still hold the stack of letters Maria put in my bag. “Read these. Let me know what’s important.” I toss the stack into the space between us and lean back against the seat, still studying her. She seems nice enough. In a pinch she could be my stand-in on set, which might be why they hired her. Two for the price of one. Cheap bastards. She gets busy, opening the letters and reading through them one by one. I take the airplane vodka roadie I stashed in my jacket pocket and rip the top off. Her head snaps up at the sound and she watches wide-eyed while I down the entire thing in one chug. “Yes, I’m drinking again,” I answer defensively. “But I can handle it.”
    “Of course you can.” Jane’s answer shocks me. I’m so used to everyone telling me why I can’t do things. Jane and I may be buds after all. She studies a letter for several minutes, then leans over and shares it with me.
    “What’s that?” My eyes refuse to focus on the small print.
    “It’s a summons from the L.A. County DA’s office requesting a statement.” Her voice drifts off as she continues reading. “Something to do with a Jack Klein?”
    “Ugh,” I moan, and drag a hand down my face. “That asshole!” Only my dad would be irritating enough to leave me with shit to do after he’s gone. He couldn’t just die and be dead like normal people. He has to find a way to continue fucking up my life from the grave. “Send a copy of that to my attorney. Do you have his number?” Jane shakes her head. “Do you have Jerrie’s?” She nods. “Good. Jerrie can tell you where to send it. Just whatever. I don’t want to be bothered by it. Let the attorneys deal with it.” I wave my hand dismissively and slouch further down in the seat. “Wait, isn’t that our turn?”
    “For what?” Jane asks.
    “For the hotel.”
    “Oh, right. You have a house this time.”
    “A house?” This is unexpected but ridiculously welcome news.
    “Security reasons,” she explains. “The hotel is swarming with photographers.”
    “Bastards.” I turn up the vodka and patiently wait for the last drop to drip onto my tongue.
    “Your new housing is at an undisclosed location. It isn’t printed on any set material. This is Eddie.” She leans forward and pats the driver’s shoulder. “He’s your personal driver and the only one who knows your home base.”
    “It’s a pleasure, Miss Klein,” Eddie says, nodding at me in the rearview mirror. His accent is unrecognizable. A holstered Glock rests on the passenger seat. What? This is crazy, but I do love it when a fuss is made over me. I return the solemn nod and then busy myself looking for some Chapstick. We slow and turn up a gated drive.
    “Oh, this is cute!” I thought everything in the town was barren and bleak and just ugh. But this is nice—cozy and quaint, homey even. The sprawling compound includes several additional buildings with vast yards. A tall stone security fence surrounds everything. This is a life I could get used to. Eddie opens the door and ushers me in like I’m the Queen Mum before returning to get my bags. It’s totally overkill, but I’m enjoying every minute.
    Inside there’s a relatively modern kitchen, for Siberian standards. A fridge full of smartwater. The thick fur parka I always wear to set hangs on a nail. There’s even a bowl of