The other half of me is getting twisted in the gut by a knife.
Thursday afternoon, I’m scrolling through Craigslist, which is what I’ve resorted to in this desperate need to find a job ASAP. Chuck and Daniel are out, taking another one of their extended lunch breaks, and Dana sits across from me, typing away while she cracks her gum.
Someone knocks on the door. Dana and I lock eyes and then she slowly stands up.
“Who is it?” I softly ask.
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. I’m not expecting anyone. He asked me to schedule all of his appointments for downtown.”
Of course he did.
She opens the door to reveal a portly man with balding salt and pepper hair. As if the guest were made of electricity, Dana jumps back.
“Hello, Mr. Mulroney,” she says, standing even straighter. “How are you?”
He nods at her. “Fine, Daphne. How are you?”
“Can I get you anything? Mr. Mulroney is not in right now,” she says, not correcting his mistake.
“Oh.” He sounds surprised. “When will he be back?”
Dana noticeably shifts her weight. “He hasn’t been in much this week. He’s mostly working downtown.”
His brows furrow. The news seems to displease him. His gaze sweeps across the room and we catch eyes. “You’re new, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” I stand up. “I’m Sydney Andrews.”
He nods sharply. “David Mulroney.”
Ah. Just as I suspected. The former head of Mulroney Pictures — Simon’s father. I try to inconspicuously wipe my suddenly sweaty palms on the side of my pants.
“Getting along well here?”
“Yes, sir.”
Or would you like the truth? Because it’s a long story, and you’ll probably want to sit down.
“This is just like Simon,” David Mulroney says, shaking his head.
Dana weakly smiles.
It sure is, I think. Here one minute and gone the next.
“Nice seeing you, Daphne,” he tells Dana.
“You too, Mr. Mulroney. Are you sure there’s something I can’t get you?”
“No, no. I can’t stay. I just came to see how The Dawn Companion is doing. Have you girls gone down to set yet?”
“Just to deliver papers,” Dana says.
“No,” I respond when his eyes flick to me. “I’ve never been to the back lot.”
The elder Mr. Mulroney looks surprised. “Truly?”
I smile. The man has a hard edge to him — which he must have bestowed to Simon — but I kind of like him already. “Truly. We, ah, stay pretty busy in the office here.”
He nods toward the door. “Come with me. Come take a look. I’ll bring you back before Daphne has time to miss you at all.”
I glance at Dana.
“You go,” she says, shooing me with her fingers. “There’s time. You don’t need to hurry back.”
“Okay.” I nod, trying to conceal my enthusiasm. What I told the elder Mr. Mulroney is the truth. I never get to go to the back lot. As in, not once have I stepped foot in that direction.
Mr. Mulroney heads into the hallway and I scurry to catch up.
“It’s so wonderful to meet you, sir,” I tell him.
“You like action movies?”
“I like every kind of movie.”
We pass Stacey’s desk. When she sees Mr. Mulroney coming, she sits up straighter and stares at her computer screen like the most interesting email in the world is grabbing her attention.
It’s probably just the most boring game of Solitaire.
There’s a sleek black SUV out front, and a man in a matching suit waiting next to it. When he sees Mr. Mulroney coming, he goes to open the front door. I’m so shocked, I almost fall over. After all, I’d assumed we’d be walking to the back lot. Instead, it looks like we’ll be escorted there by the Secret Service.
Mr. Mulroney climbs into the car and I scamper in after him. The seats are leather and the windows all tinted.
“This is the second day of production,” he says.
“Yes, sir.”
“I assume you knew that.”
“Yes, sir.”
He smiles. “You seem too nice to work for my son.”
Yes, sir.
I only smile back. “Mr. Mulroney is a different kind of boss,” I reply, choosing my words carefully.
“That Daphne,” he continues, “She’s got thick skin. She can handle it.”
“She’s pretty strong,” I agree. “And so are the other two in the office. But I would like to think I’m not as flimsy as I look.”
He chuckles. “Kudos to you.” For a moment, he studies me. “You’re wrong about one thing, though. You don’t come across as weak at all. You’ve got some strength shining through yourself.”