Page 16 of Hot Nights in Morocco
“ButRachel’syour assistant, not me.” His continual blurring of these lines is knocking me off-kilter.
“Rachel is neededhere. She’s an integral part of my production team, and I want someone to keep an eye on Max.”
“You make him sound like a dog.”
“If the shoe fits…”
“What do you need me to do for you in L.A., anyway?”
“Carry out your job description. What’s the issue? It’s not like I’m whisking you away on a romantic city break. This is business for the movie.Mybusiness.”
My face flushes. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
“Surprised that I need an assistant with me when I travel? What a radical idea.”
Now he’s just being a dick.
“I don’t think much of these job-sharing opportunities,” I grumble. “Don’t you have a team in L.A. to handle all this stuff?”
“Max has already signed it off. Are you going to sort out the tickets or not?” Jake roots around in the dash pocket before chucking something shiny, black, and exclusive-looking into my lap. “Here’s my card. I need two first class tickets booked immediately. Next flight out.”
“What, no private jet?” I mock.
“It’s been grounded for maintenance. It’s quicker this way.”
He has his own jet.
Of course he does.
I take his card and slot it into the front cover of my notebook. “Fine, I’ll do it. Now will you please stop biting my head off?”
But Jake doesn’t seem to hear me. His mind is already hovering somewhere above the Atlantic. I have a sneaking suspicion that, for once, his black mood isn’t anything to do with me.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, frowning at him. He doesn’t look like his normal, icy-cool self. Up close, his T-shirt is uncharacteristically crumpled. Beneath his Ray Bans, his eyes are squinting from lack of sleep.
“It’s fine.I’mfine,” he mutters, sounding anything but. “I need to be back in L.A. as soon as possible. This is important, Books.”
I’m not sure I like that nickname anymore. He’s making my most favorite thing in the world sound like an insult.
We screech to a halt outside the studios. After yanking on the handbrake, he chucks the car keys at me and exits the vehicle like he can’t get away from me fast enough. Sighing, I pick up my cell phone to call the airline and promptly get put on hold. I’m still waiting ten minutes later when Rachel’s jeep pulls up behind us. She disappears inside, only to reappear moments later with a wide-eyed aura of shock and awe.
“What’s going on with Jake?” she asks, peering in through the open window. “He’s sending me back to set to…um…take care of Max. Something’s wrong. He’s in his office right now yelling his head off at his lawyers.”
I blow out a breath. “He needs to fly back to L.A. He’s insisting I go with him.”
Will he try and kiss me again? Is this some elaborate orchestration of seduction on his part?Hell. No. I came here to find some direction in my life, not to let some Hollywood playboy spin me off course.
Rachel looks even more stunned. “But that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Maybe he’s planning to open the door mid-flight and lose me somewhere over the Canary Islands,” I venture with a grin. “At least my disappearance will spare him a union dispute should Max ever want to fire me.”
Rachel dissolves into giggles. The mutual antagonism between Jake and me hasn’t gone unnoticed by anyone. “Look on the bright side. Think of all that takeout waiting for you in California… I, for one, amsickof eating couscous every day.”
“I’d rather eat shit than endure Jake Dalton and his black moods for fifteen hours straight.”
“Hey, you can always pretend to be asleep.”
“He’d only kick me awake. Sleep deprivation is a form of torture, you know? Right up Jake’s street. Do you think there’s an issue with Global Studios?”
