“I’d like that,” she said. He was courting her slowly, and not making any fast moves, which seemed appropriate to both of them. He didn’t want to rush her or frighten her, but he thought she was a very cool woman. He was ten years older than she was, which seemed comfortable for both of them. They enjoyed working together and were both serious about their careers, but Jane had realized that she wanted a personal life too, not just work at the expense of everything else.
Ripples went through the office all afternoon, which reached Allie’s ears. She hadn’t wanted to go to Jane’s office to find out. She was still uncomfortable with her, and Jane hadn’t warmed up to her again. She wasn’t angry anymore. She thought Benjie was a jerk and didn’t miss him, but she still didn’t like what Allie had done, whatever the excuse. It was a mean thing to do.
Allie was checking her emails late that afternoon, and was surprised to see one from the producers of Eric’s show. It was on the air now, and the ratings were through the roof, as she had predicted they would be. The email was a standard notice of some papers he had to sign to complete his files, and a few had been missed. It was standard housekeeping stuff from their accountants. She didn’t know who to send them to because he had never notified her of who his new agent was, and she had no idea or record of it. He hadn’t communicated with the agency since he broke up with her. The producers of the show were threatening to withhold his payments until he signed the documents in the attachment, so it was important that he get them and take care of it. She debated whether she should just email them to him, but he might not notice them or think they were important. As his agent, she would have printed out the documents and had him sign them, but since she assumed she wasn’t his agent anymore, she wasn’t sure, and she’d had no notification of a new agent. He just disappeared.
She decided to text him instead, and if he didn’t respond, she’d call him. She didn’t want to talk to him. She knew it would upset her too much. He had moved on, and his new girlfriend was gorgeous. That was hardly surprising, as he was too. She’d been lucky to have him for as long as she did. Their relationship had all worked seamlessly for a while, and then it didn’t, thanks to Bob Benson. And he was with Merriwether now, one of his employees, which was no more proper than her being with Eric, in fact probably less so.
She was still angry at Bob for his interference. Pathetically, she realized, she hadn’t gotten over Eric. She kept waiting for the feeling of missing him to diminish, but it hadn’t.
She sent Eric a simple text that she had received documents from his producers that he had to sign, and asked what agency she should send them to. She didn’t expect an answer from him for a while. He was usually slow to respond to texts and emails, and didn’t like dealing with them. She had always handled everything for him of that nature. She did it for most of her clients. Most actors didn’t like dealing with the housekeeping.
He called her on her cell in less than five minutes.
“Why did you send me that text?” he asked her. He didn’t sound friendly, and his voice was cold.
“Because you need to sign their paperwork or they won’t pay you. One of them is a tax document. Who do you want me to send them to? Who’s your agent?” She tried to sound neutral, but her heart was pounding just hearing his voice.
“What do you mean? Aren’t you my agent?”
“I don’t know. Am I? You didn’t switch? I thought you had. You said you were going to.”
“No. I was busy. What would you normally do? You used to send stuff over to me with a guy when I had to sign it,” he said, sounding petulant, which was worse. Unfriendly she could deal with. Petulant made her want to protect him.
“I can do that. I’ll send a courier over. Where are you?”
“On set at the studio. We shoot in New York,” he said, as though she didn’t know the show.
“I’ll have someone bring them over. And I’ll get them back to the producer after you sign.”
He sounded as though he wanted to say something else then, but he didn’t. All he said was “Thanks,” and hung up. She sighed after the brief exchange.
She printed up the documents in the email, and was about to call for a courier, when all of a sudden she thought of Jane and how brave she had been, and the results of her bravery. What was the worst he could do? Spit in her eye? Have her thrown off the set? Yell at her? That wasn’t his style, he was more likely to just be cold to her, sign them, hand them back to her, and walk away. And if he did, she’d survive it. It couldn’t be any worse than a lot of other things that had happened in her life, or the last months without him. They had been the worst months of her life. At least this way she could see him. She put the papers in a manila envelope, grabbed her purse, and headed for the elevator. She told the assistant in the hallway she’d be back in an hour, and didn’t say where she was going. She realized that she looked a mess, but she didn’t care. She was wearing jeans, a purple sweatshirt, and running shoes, and her hair looked like bats had flown through it. She just wanted to see him. It was a twenty-minute ride across town, and a few blocks down on Tenth Avenue. The studio was housed in a full block of warehouses.
She was nervous in the cab, and she was clutching the envelope in her hand. It was her ticket to see him, the excuse she needed. And if he wouldn’t talk to her, so be it, at least she would have tried, and not wish forever that she had.
She knew her way around the studios they were using, although she hadn’t been there in a while. She asked a guard what set they were on, and took a freight elevator to get there. She was standing between a resin dinosaur and an elephant from some kids’ show, and got out on her floor, walked down several hallways, and stopped at the set in case they were shooting and the cameras were rolling. But they were on a break so she asked for his dressing room. The person she asked pointed her in the right direction, and she stood outside the door with his name on it for a minute, holding her breath. She was about to knock when he pulled open the door, and he was standing there, staring at her from inches away. They both stayed frozen for a minute.
“What are you doing here?” He didn’t look happy to see her. He looked annoyed, and pained.
“I brought you the papers to sign.”
“The agency can’t afford couriers anymore?” he said and took the envelope from her. “Do you want to come in? They’re relighting the set and I’ve got a twenty-minute break.” He stepped back so she could walk into his narrow dressing room, and she did. There was a small pink settee, some mismatched chairs, a setup for hair and makeup, and a rack of what he had to wear on the show. There was nothing glamorous about it. There were some bottles of water, a big bottle of Coke, and some Power Bars on the table.
“Why did you bring me the papers yourself, Allie?” he asked her in a gentle voice. It was the opening she’d been waiting for, for months, and she felt paralyzed for a moment, not sure what to say.
“Because Bob Benson is an asshole, and he had no business telling me who I can date or what’s good for the agency. Fuck the agency. His partner is going to prison for heinous crimes. And I don’t give a damn about my career anymore. That’s all I ever cared about for the last twenty years. What was good for my career. And you know what? I discovered that I don’t care. I finally found someone I love more than myself and my precious career. Bob’s dating the CFO, for chrissake. That’s a lot more improper than what we did. I love you. I know you have a new girlfriend, but I just wanted you to know. Now sign the goddamn papers, so I can get out of here before I cry and make an even bigger fool of myself than I just did.”