"Stop it, Ethan. I've known you for too damn long. Since when have you ever cared so much about hiring a particular porn actress for this company?"
"Well, I—" I begin, before she cuts me off.
"I'll give you the answer, Ethan—it's never," she says. "Not once. So why now? Who the hell cares if we hire Ella and Bella with the big tits, versus some skinny blonde that can hold your gaze?"
"She's not just some skinny blonde," I say. "I see a certain quality in her. A star quality."
"Oh come on!" Cheryl laughs. "Are you serious? Some woman with a perfect body and who only has eyes for you makes you lose your head all of a sudden? I can see it in your face. You personally like this one."
"What a joke—I do not! This is pure business," I reply.
"I'll say this again because I care, Ethan," Cheryl says. "Watch yourself. This is—"
"You're treating me like you're either my mother or a jealous lover."
"Stop, Ethan," she continues. "And let me finish. This is a business of sex and flesh."
"Don't you think I realize that?"
"Well, in this business, you can't let your emotions get in the way. You can't be blinded by it all"
And with that, I watch as Cheryl turns around and walks down the opposite end of the hall without looking back. As I stand there, her words echo in my head.
Am I allowing my emotions to get the best of me?
Brittney
I walk into the corporate headquarters of Illicit Entertainment. The outside of the building is white and non-descript. In fact, if I didn't have the address in my hands, I wouldn't have believed this was the right place. But the interior of the building is a different story. The open-floor concept of the main room is sleek and modern. The lobby is outfitted with black leather furniture, and glass-topped tables. It all fits. I mean, a company getting ready to unveil the next big thing in porn technology should look like this, I think to myself.
"Well, isn't this fancy," Walter says in his slight English accent, whistling. "Look over here—there's even a giant interactive LCD screen that makes it look like you're standing under a waterfall."
"I've never seen you look so star-struck before," I laugh.
"C'mon, you have to admit—this has to be one of the most tech savvy buildings in the city—just look at these sensors," Walter says.
"Is there a directory somewhere?" I ask. "This place is massive. How are we going to find her?"
"Over here. Let's see… A, B, C—Cheryl. There she is. Second floor," Walter says, with his finger hovering over the list of names.
We leave the lobby and step inside of the elevator. Ads for upcoming Illicit Entertainment movies with titles like Pussypocalypse, Two Girls One Bed, 40 Girls and 40 Nights, and Panty Dropper in Paradise adorn the walls.
"They're creative," I say. "I'll give them that much."
"I guess that's one way to put it," Walter shrugs.
The elevator chimes open on the second floor, and to our right, we find a woman sitting at her desk. She looks to be in her early 40s with golden brown, wavy hair. This must be Cheryl.
"Hi, are you Cheryl? I'm Brittney."
"Of course! It's a pleasure to meet you," she says, extending her hand. "We're all so excited to welcome you to the Illicit Entertainment family. Ethan speaks highly of you."
He does? That's good to know. And if she's calling him by his first name, they must be close. I mentally shelve that comment in my brain. I wonder to myself what he's been saying to everyone. I guess my audition went even better than expected, which is good. I'm off on the right foot, and a step closer to my goal.
"I'm looking forward to it," I say. "And this is my assistant Walter."
He extends his hand to Cheryl. "Nice to meet you."
They shake, and he holds onto her hand for a few extra seconds. Is it just my imagination or does Walter seem to have a special sparkle to his eyes? Cheryl's kind of cute, I suppose. Plain, in a way. But cute enough for an older woman.
"Okay, let's get the boring formal stuff out of the way," Cheryl says, pulling a stack of paperwork from a manila folder. "These contracts walk you through our onboarding process."
"There's a lot of contracts—" I say. And there is. The stack is a formidable size.
"It looks like a lot, but these are pretty standard for the industry. There's an NDA—for the new technology we're rolling out, a W9, our codes of conduct—you get the picture, all the obvious documents," Cheryl says.
"Okay, where do we start?" I ask, ready to get through the pile of paperwork.