The Standard was a swanky, cutting-edge hotel in downtown Los Angeles. It was as trendy a place as they come and the nicest hotel I’d ever been to. I was a poor Latina girl raised in inner city Boston by a single mother. I was definitely out of my league here.
The party was being held on the hotel’s rooftop pool and bar lounge area. My heart raced as Brian and I waited for the elevator, but surprisingly, I wasn’t the only one with nerves. Brian was fidgeting like crazy. It was comforting to see that he was as anxious as me. Well, maybe not quite as much as me, but still, there was some discomfort, and it was nice to know I wasn’t alone.
“Nervous?” I reached for his hand as the elevator doors slid open.
Brian startled at the touch and turned to me with a sheepish grin as we stepped inside. “A little bit.” He jerked his head toward the ceiling as he hit the button for the roof. “That’s the big leagues up there. It’s my first time sitting at the grown-up table.”
The analogy made me smile. “You’re going to be great. They’re going to welcome you to the cool kids club with open arms and wonder why they didn’t do it years ago.”
He laughed once and blew out a heavy breath. “If they do, it’ll be because the woman on my arm has them all under her magical spell. What do you say, fair priestess Ellamara, are you ready to go win over our new kingdom with me?”
“I don’t know,” I teased. “Are you going to leave me for a dumb warrior princess, like movie Cinder did?”
Brian chuckled. “Of course not.” After kissing my hand, he grinned at me over the tops of my fingers. “Besides, she won’t be here. Not A-list enough, remember?”
If he was trying to make me feel better, it was working. I beamed a bright smile at him, letting him know I appreciated the Kaylee trash talk. He matched my grin. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Thank you for doing this with me tonight.”
He was every bit as breathtaking as he claimed I was. I was lucky to be his date. “You’re welcome. Just…please don’t ever leave me alone up there tonight.”
“Promise.” He held up our interlocked hands. “This, right here, not breaking for anything. You have my word.”
“Thank you,” I murmured as the elevator came to a stop.
We both took a breath as the doors slid open. “You ready?” he asked.
I didn’t get the chance to reply, because two people noticed us walk off the elevator and called out to us straightaway. A man in a traditional tuxedo greeted us as if we were old friends, with hearty handshakes and an air kiss to my cheek. “Brian! Ella! So glad you could make it.” He pulled back and looked me over, head to toe. “Miss Rodriguez, you look positively radiant this evening.”
“Thank you.” I looked to Brian for help, and he gestured toward my new friend with a small but genuine smile. “Ella, this is Samuel Weinhardt and Afton Marks.” He gestured to the woman, and she echoed Samuel’s hand-shake-slash-air-kiss thing. “Samuel and Afton are the leaders of my management team.”
“So they’re your agents?” I asked, trying to figure out how it worked.
“Say the word, and we’ll be yours, too, Ella,” Samuel said. “We’ve got a whole slew of offers that have come in for you—they’ve been coming to you care of Brian since no one knows how to contact you directly. We’ve already started putting together a plan for you. We’d love to schedule a meeting with you this week and get some of these contracts going.”
The immediate talk of business surprised me since this was technically a holiday party, but I supposed it shouldn’t have. Brian was always comparing his industry to a tank of hungry sharks. These two didn’t just smell a new client; they already had a hundred ways to make money off me sitting in their e-mail inboxes. Of course they’d jump on that. I understood it, but they hadn’t even managed a Nice to meet you. How are you? before assuming they could just snow me into submission. It irked me.
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” I said, plastering that same fake smile on my face that I’d used talking to those studio execs and Brian’s dad. “I’m very interested in seeing what ideas you have in the form of a plan for me. I’ll call your office Monday morning and schedule an interview appointment with you.”
Afton laughed, a very polite yet condescending laugh. “Oh no, hon, that’s not necessary. We’re offering you representation. You don’t need an interview.”
Was this woman for real? I may have been new to this industry, but I wasn’t naive. I’d spent the last year trying to keep up with medical professionals ten times more intelligent than me and refusing to let them treat me like a child. I wasn’t going to let this woman, who couldn’t have been more than ten years older than me and certainly didn’t hold my life in her hands, do it.
I matched her patronizing laugh and said, “I meant an interview for you. I understand you’ve offered me representation, but so has every other agency in town. I’ll be meeting with all of you before I make any decisions or sign any contracts.”
My heart skipped a beat when Brian choked on a startled cough. Had I been too forward? Had I lost my temper too much? He’d been the one to tell me I can’t let people push me around. But I didn’t want to piss off his agents or make him look bad.
When I glance at him, though, I realized he was trying not to laugh. He met my gaze, and though he didn’t wink, his eyes sparkled with both pride and amusement. His approval gave me a boost of confidence, and my entire body relaxed.
Afton and Samuel, on the other hand, didn’t seem nearly as at ease anymore. “Oh,” Afton said in a very clipped tone, now full of forced friendliness. “I see. Well…”
“Well, they’ll just have to be thoroughly prepared for your appointment next week, then, won’t they?” a new voice cut in.
The newcomer was older, maybe in his sixties. He smiled brightly, but somehow he seemed even more authoritarian than his peers. It always surprised me that anyone could be more dominant than Brian, but this guy made Brian and his agents look like nervous little kids.
“Don’t look so offended, Ms. Marks,” he said to Afton. “It’s wise to be cautious in this industry. Clearly, Miss Rodriguez is a very capable woman. Which is no surprise.” The stranger took my hand and gave me a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Your insightful critiques of the books and movies you review on your blog speak volumes about your intelligence, and any woman who could capture Mr. Oliver’s heart has to have a sensible head on her shoulders. It’s wonderful to meet you, my dear. I’m Harvey Buchman.”
“Mr. Buchman’s the head of the entire agency,” Brian murmured.
Harvey turned his friendly grin on my very shocked boyfriend. “Please, Brian, call me Harvey.”
Brian, stunned, shook the man’s hand and said, “I will. Thank you, Harvey. It’s an honor to finally meet you.”
“Oh, the pleasure’s mine, Brian. I’ve heard so much about you since you joined our agency.” Harvey laughed with sincere amusement and grinned at me. “This young man gave our agency quite the shock the day we met with him the first time.”
Brian laughed a little, but there was nervousness in it that made me wonder just how big of an uproar he’d caused the day he fired his old management team. Perhaps I should have let the mystery lie, but Harvey seemed in good spirits, so I couldn’t resist asking, “Really? How so?”
Harvey laughed again. He studied the two of us together before deciding to be candid. “Frankly, with his previous résumé and reputation, and that stunt his old management team pulled after FantasyCon, we expected a young, spoiled hothead and were prepared to cater to a teenage heartthrob throwing a diva tantrum.”
Brian chuckled softly. It made it easier for me to tease him. I shot Harvey a disbelieving look and said, “Are you trying to tell me you didn’t get a young, spoiled hothead throwing a tantrum in your office that day?”
Mr. Harvey blinked at me and then laughed. “Perhaps there was some of that—not that we blamed him when we learned the truth of what his previous agency had done. No, it was his intelligence that surprised us. His scruples, his astute eye for the business, and his sheer determination to do right by you. He had my entire agency completely flustered within minutes.”
Okay, that I could believe. Brian was formidable when he wanted to be. Just like his mother. “I’m sure he did,” I agreed. “Brian is usually underestimated.” When Brian slid me a look, I laughed. “Yes, I was guilty of it, too.”
Harvey sighed. “That is the biggest problem with our young Mr. Oliver here, isn’t it?”
Brian frowned. “What do you mean?”
Harvey placed a hand on Brian’s shoulder and began leading us over toward the bar. “Well, being the paparazzi magnet you are—which, unfortunately, some stars just have that luck.”
Brian scoffed.
“And,” Harvey continued with a hint of chagrin, “with your father being who he is, most people in town had already made their minds up about you. It’s hurt your career more than you know, but we’re working to take care of that.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “I thought Max Oliver had a lot of pull in Hollywood.”
“Pull, not respect,” Brian said flatly.
“Ah.” Enough said. “And, I guess movies like Senior Trip and Screw the Prom Queen haven’t helped much, either.”
“No. My former management team never did me any favors with the projects they lined up for me.”
Harvey nodded. “Very true.”
We reached the bar, and after making sure Brian and I both had something to drink—he didn’t blink at my request for water, which was nice—Harvey smiled at Brian again. “Fortunately, we plan to change this town’s opinion of you.”
Brian took a small sip of a martini. “Do you really think you can do that?”
“Oh, absolutely. Starting tonight,” Harvey gushed. “You’ve already done the hard part—you’ve forced everyone in town to question their judgment concerning you.”
Brian and I shared a curious look and waited for an explanation. “Your performance in The Druid Prince really shook this town,” Harvey said. “People were shocked at your depth and your ability to take a Max Oliver film, starring opposite Kaylee Summers, and turn it into such a moving performance. And now, surprising everyone again by dating a non-famous young woman with physical disabilities—forgive me for putting it so brashly, Miss Rodriguez; I mean no disrespect—it’s really turned heads. No one in town knows quite what to think of the two of you.”
Harvey led us to a vacant couch. The small sofa was one of four placed around a coffee table covered with plates of hors d’oeuvres. I was glad to be off my feet and looked forward to trying the stuffed bell peppers in front of me. Brian noticed me eyeing them and grinned. As he filled a small plate for the two of us to share, Harvey got down to business. “So, Miss Rodriguez,” he said, having sat on the sofa nearest me. “Rumor has it you don’t plan to take Lindon’s up on their offered modeling contract.”
I laughed harshly. “That would be correct. I have no desire to model for Lindon’s Lingerie or anybody else. And I certainly don’t plan to take my clothes off and bare my scarred and mutilated body to appease people’s morbid curiosity.”
Harvey’s face fell into a frown. “I understand your reluctance, but I think it would be a mistake for you to pass on this opportunity.”
“Excuse me?” I shook my head, bewildered that he could think such a thing. “Okay, first of all, the public may think Erik Clarke’s suggestion that I model his winning lingerie is some kind of fun game, but it’s actually my dignity, my feelings, and my reputation on the line. That’s not a joke, that’s my life. And second, did you happen to see the news Christmas Day? That kind of attention is not something I plan to sign up for willingly.”
Brian squeezed my hand in an attempt to remind me to check my temper before I really lost it. Then he pulled me closely to his side, creating a very distinct us image. When he spoke, I was sure the move had been intentional. “With all due respect to you, Mr. Buchman, you don’t understand Ella’s reluctance on this issue. You couldn’t possibly understand the things she’s been through in the past year. You don’t know what it’s like to have a beautiful, perfectly healthy body taken from you and to be looked down upon and mocked and tormented because it’s gone. Like she’s lesser of a person now than she was before because of her injuries. This may be a power play to you, a trifle matter of smiling for a few pictures, but that’s maybe one percent of the factors that would go into a decision like this.”
My heart swelled to have Brian come to my defense in such a way. It wasn’t that he was defending me no-holds-barred, it was that he got it. He understood that this wasn’t about just the message I could send to the world.
Harvey wasn’t deterred. “Which is why,” he said, “Ella should sign with my agency.” He turned his penetrating stare on me. “I may not be able to empathize with your situation, Miss Rodriguez, but I do understand it would be a very difficult and sensitive issue for you. What you’re failing to consider is that the media has already thrust this mess on you, whether you want it or not. It won’t go away. But if you embrace it, if you take control of it rather than letting it control you, it wouldn’t have to be so painful for you.”
I hated that he had a point. He was right that this problem wouldn’t just disappear if I stuck my head in the sand long enough. Eventually, I’d have to face it.
“I did see the news Christmas Day,” he said. “My heart went out to you and your family for having to endure that. Especially because of a video posted by Erik Clarke.” He said Erik’s name with as much loathing as I felt for the lying little jerk, which softened me and maybe even endeared me to Mr. Buchman a bit.
“I heard the things they shouted at you,” he continued. “I know why they tackled that man to the ground, even if they didn’t show it on camera. It wasn’t hard to guess. Miss Rodriguez, I hate to say it, but that pervert who exposed himself to you will not be the last of his kind, if you don’t take action. That is what my team would like to do for you. We could help you limit those kinds of experiences.”
“How?” He sounded so confident, but it felt like an impossibility.
“By turning you into a hero instead of a martyr.”
The force of his statement hit me hard, as did the meaning behind it. The air left my lungs, and it took all of my strength not to show this man how much he’d just affected me.
“A lot of doors have just been opened to you. Opportunities you don’t even know exist. Endorsements. Modeling for basically anyone you’d care to work for. Numerous charities who would like your endorsement or help to support their causes. Your biography. A documentary. Everything from the major motion picture rights, to your own reality TV show, to a worldwide motivational speaking tour. There are so many ways we could spin your current situation.”
My jaw fell a little further with each new suggestion he gave me. Brian and Scott had showed me the list of e-mails Scott had—it had mostly been guest appearance requests from people like Kenneth Long, Connie Parker, and Celebrity Gossip, and a long list of publishers and studios that were interested in advertising on my blog or having me review their projects.
What Mr. Buchman was suggesting was leagues above that. Worldwide motivational speaking tours? My own reality TV show? Not that I wanted any of those things, but who in the world would be that interested in me? I wasn’t a hero. I was a complete disaster. An insecure emotional wreck.
Seeing that he’d overwhelmed me, Mr. Buchman toned down his intensity, softening his voice in an attempt to make his next words hit with less severity. “Do nothing, Miss Rodriguez, and everyone who has ever disparaged you wins. Stand up for yourself, and all of those pathetic, weak-minded bullies will see that you aren’t a victim. So far, everything you’ve done, from that media footage of the two of you at FantasyCon, to stopping your blog posts and removing all comment features and contact information, to hiding from the media, and your terrified stroll to your car on Christmas Day, even the way Brian hovers around you so protectively tonight shows the world that you are every inch the meek, mild, terrified lamb ready for the slaughter. That crowd on Christmas Day was so out of hand because those people saw a victim. They sensed prey.
“You may be overwhelmed and in over your head at the moment, but watching you with my agents a few minutes ago, I know you can handle it. Show them you are strong, and they will back off. They will fear you. There is an inner strength in you. The same strength that had my agency falling over themselves at Brian’s feet when he showed up demanding we cut all of our bullshit because he wasn’t taking it anymore from anyone.”
A startled snort of laughter escaped me that made Brian chuckle. “Yeah, that sounds like Brian.”
“It’s you, too, little miss Ellamara’s Words of Wisdom,” Brian teased.
I was as grateful as Harvey to have the tension broken. He nodded with the smile back in place on his handsome face. “Allow my agency to help you get your head above the water. We can corral all of the chaos surrounding you right now and use it to your advantage. It wasn’t Erik Clarke’s suggestion on Celebrity Gossip that’s fueling the public right now—he merely threw out an idea. Those people are reacting to you and your statements in that lingerie store. You’ve inspired the world, Ella, and now you have power at your disposal. A lot of it. Don’t let it go to waste.”
I blew out a breath, recognizing the end of his speech. It was a good one. I’d give him that. “You’ve definitely given me a lot to think about,” I said honestly.
“Good.” His answering smile was almost as much pride for me as it was for himself. “Hopefully, I’ve persuaded you.”
The man was relentless…and very good at his job. “You’ve left an impression.” I grinned, and he matched my dry smirk, knowing exactly what was coming. “I still plan to meet with all the others, too.”
He laughed, accepting his defeat with grace, because he was sure in the end I’d come back to him. “You do that,” he said. “But do me a favor.” He pulled a business card from the inside breast pocket of his tux and handed it to me. Brian gasped softly when he saw that the card had Mr. Buchman’s personal contact information on it. “If you should decide to go with ICM or good old Bill Morris, do me the courtesy of calling me before you sign so that I can have one last chance to counter any offers they may make that might sway you to them. I would take you on as my personal client, if that’s what it takes to sign you.”
Brian gasped again, louder this time. All I could do was stare at the business card that had the personal e-mail and phone number of the head of one of the largest, most powerful talent agencies in the world. It seemed so surreal. When I finally found my voice, I looked up again to see Mr. Buchman waiting for a response to his request. “I’ll do that,” I said, “if you’ll answer one question for me. Honestly.”
Harvey nodded, brows raised in curiosity.
“Why do you want me so badly? You, I mean. Personally. You could have let Brian’s agents handle me tonight. I assume they’re some of your best. If Brian really caused the stir you claim he did, I can’t imagine you’d pair him with anyone but your top agents. But spending a good twenty minutes with me when everyone at this party probably hopes to gain your attention at some point? Why? It doesn’t make sense. I may have a little hype right now, but I’m not star client material. I have no plans to be an A-list actor, the next chart-topping pop sensation, or even a supermodel. I’ll never make you the kind of money someone like Brian will, so why give me your personal contact information? Why offer to represent me personally?”
When Harvey narrowed his eyes and suppressed a smile as if he were a cat caught with his whiskers in the cream, I shook my head at him. “Truthfully,” I warned him, “or you’ll lose my trust, and I’ll cross you off the list of possibilities right here and now.”
Brian didn’t gasp again, but his whole body stiffened. Perhaps it was audacious of me to be so direct, but it didn’t make sense, and I didn’t like that.
Harvey chewed on my request for a long time, stretching out the silence between us until it was nearly suffocating, but I refused to let him off the hook. When he finally decided that whatever secret he held was worth sharing in order to keep me from walking away, he said the last thing I ever expected. “It’s because I have a daughter.”
He waited out a shocking bout of emotions, swallowing hard and taking a controlled breath before speaking again. “I have a smart, funny, caring daughter just a couple years younger than you. She is a beautiful young woman…with a strong Jewish nose, and my tight, frizzy curly hair, and my wife’s freckles. The height gene skipped her, and she’ll never be as thin as the girls in the magazines. Her beauty is unconventional, and she believes that equates to ugly. The kids at school act like her friends because of my status, and then they mock her behind her back. The only boys who ask her on dates are ones looking for an in.”
He took another breath, as if needing to suppress a great deal of rage ignited by his protective instincts. I knew those instincts well. My father had them in spades. He’d banned Brian from his property, essentially cutting me from his life because he’d been angry that Juliette and Anastasia had been humiliated and put in danger on Christmas.
“The other agencies will want you because you will make them quick and easy money with your current attention and your A-list boyfriend. I don’t want to make money, Miss Rodriguez. I want to make a statement.”
His speech stole the air from my lungs. I was nearly moved to tears from it. I was also terrified, because he’d just made my decision infinitely more complicated and impossible to make. He’d made it real. He’d made it personal. From now on, every time I was faced with this topic, I would picture that adorably awkward teen girl struggling through high school, heartbroken and lacking self-confidence because she didn’t feel beautiful enough.
Part of me wished I could unhear his story. But I’d asked him for the truth, and even though he hadn’t wanted to give it, he did. “Thank you for your candidness,” I whispered, still struggling to find my voice.
“Mr. Buchman,” Brian said quietly, “my heart goes out to your family. More than you know. Because even with my support, Ella still struggles the same way your daughter does. It makes me want to set fire to the whole world sometimes when I have to hear the things people say about her.”
Mr. Buchman’s face fell slightly, and he gave me a sympathetic smile.
“Imagine,” Brian said, “putting your daughter on TV, and on the front page of every magazine, in her underwear no less, so that she feels more vulnerable than she’s ever felt in her life, and then circling all of those things she feels make her ugly with big red permanent markers so that the nation can gawk at her and debate whether or not she’s beautiful, or whether she deserves to be with someone more beautiful and perfect than her.”
“I can’t,” he said simply. His face had gone white at the picture Brian painted for him, and he swallowed hard. “I could never ask my daughter to go through that.”
“And yet, that’s what you’re asking Ella to do.”
I leaned against Brian, suddenly lacking the strength to sit up on my own. Mr. Buchman’s eyes fell on me again, with a mixture of emotions. “I know that,” he said. “I know what I’m asking of you. And I know that asking you to do it makes me a hypocrite. But I’m still asking. Begging. Please consider it. Because it’s already happening to you, whether you like it or not, and you have the power to do something about it. Maybe you couldn’t change the world, but you could change the lives of those who suffer from insecurity the way you do. You could be someone to look up to. Someone to make them believe If she’s beautiful, and worthy of a man like Brian Oliver, then maybe so am I.”
His voice gave out, and he had to take a moment to compose himself. Brian and I both sat, stunned, that this man, probably one of the most powerful and influential people at this party—which was really saying something—was practically on his knees in front of me.
“Brian, you love Ella, don’t you?” he asked.
“More than anything in the world,” Brian replied, startled by the seemingly random question.
Mr. Buchman nodded. “Someday you’ll have children, and the love that you have for Ella right now won’t even compare to the joy those kids will bring into your life. And when they start to grow up, and you see them suffer, and you’re unable to stop that pain, then you will understand how I could ask such an impossible task of Miss Rodriguez. Of the both of you.”
He sucked in a deep breath and sat up straight, placing his hands on his knees. “And now…” He blew his breath out slowly. “If you’ll excuse me, I do believe you were right that I have other guests I should probably attend to. Thank you both for your time, and please think about it.” He rose to his feet, pointing at the card in my hand. “Hang on to that, and remember your promise. Call me first if you decide to sign with another agency.”
“I will,” I murmured.
“Thank you. Enjoy the party, you two, and Happy New Year.”
With that, he slipped away, leaving a very stunned Brian and me sitting speechless on a sofa, staring at a business card.