Chapter 2

 

Mary

 

“Another PR guy bites the dust,” I muttered as the crying, bug-eyed old man leaves my agent’s office.

Really, why did he think we’d be a good match anyway? The guy lasted an entire two weeks, and the only thing he accomplished was getting the paparazzi to get my good side in the one picture they were able to get of me leaving Whole Foods.

Murray sighed. “Well, we’ve got one more place to try and if this guy doesn’t work, then maybe it’s time you take up the offer to be a celebrity endorser on QVC.”

“Ha, ha. Real funny.” I rolled my eyes.

I’d been acting since I was in the womb. My mom still showed people how I would kick right on cue for the prenatal vitamin commercial she did at nine months pregnant.

Since then I’d been in beauty pageants, local print, and commercial work until I landed my first role on a soap opera as a main character’s daughter for ten years.

But my big break came when I was eighteen and Vamps in the City was green lighted.

I thought I’d be on that show until the end, and who the hell knew that show would last past the ten years it had been on.

But of course, the publicity of having me around wasn’t good for them, and they killed off my character. Of course, I could still come back at some point with some ridiculous story of a vampire rising again, but I had a feeling the production company was done with me.

I was never meant to be the star of that show; it was reserved for the director’s daughter, Tori. But people always seemed to like the bitchy blonde best, and I was the household name. The sex tape was just the final nail in my coffin.

Literally and figuratively. They freaking let her character stake me.

And that was back in November. Now in May, I was still searching for a movie role, hell even a cameo on some underrated sitcom. But no one was clamoring to get me, and that was where PR came in but was failing miserably.

Murray nodded. “He’s from Tate & Cane. His secretary arranged a dinner meeting over tapas for the two of you tonight at seven.”

“Tapas?” I raised an eyebrow. All the other publicists I met with were women who met over coffee or old men who wanted to get drinks at a hotel bar.

“Yes. He’s a young guy, with an impressive social media following. He knows your target audience and should be able to give everything a fresh perspective,” Murray said, waving his hand in the air.

I picked up my phone, wondering if “impressive following” meant this kid was some kind of Instagram model. “What’s his name?”

Murray ran his hand through his hair then picked up his phone, scrolling through it. “Um. It looks like Chris Garcia.”

“Gee, that isn’t common or anything,” I muttered, typing the name into Instagram and the first guy that came up was a stunner with a black and white shot. He had piercing eyes, both ears dotted with diamond studs, and a body that did not stop, not even at that perfect V dipping into his jeans.

I shook my head. Sex was what got me into this situation, albeit fake sex, but I couldn’t think about that with my future publicist.

I read through his profile and scrolled through his pictures with a lot of girls commenting some lewd things, but he seemed to have a knack for getting people talking.

“Is this the guy?” I asked, flipping my phone around to show a photo of Chris, shirtless, with a Mets cap on and giving the bird.

Murray’s eyes widened. “Um. I’m not sure. I guess we’ll find out tonight.”

“We? I think the meeting is just with me.”

Murray raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want me to join you?”

I knew how it would go if he came. He would spend the entire dinner discussing strategy and act like he was my dad who needed to take care of me, even though I was almost thirty and had done just fine without my dad in my career.

Smiling I stood up from the table. “I got this.”

Smoothing out my dress, I grabbed my purse from the table with my other hand. “Now if you excuse me, I have to go get ready for my dinner meeting.”

With that, I coolly walked out of the room and didn’t let out a breath until I got to the elevator.

This was my last chance with a PR person, and I was trusting my career and image to a guy who I could have probably gone to high school with. A very attractive guy but one who didn’t look or act like the typical PR agent.

Hopefully, that would be a good thing, for both of us.