Page 2 of PR Stunt

Buzz buzz.

Either way, I’m looking forward to going home. I’ve been going nonstop for four years now. It isn’t that I don’t love my job. But my smut books and the Malibu sun are calling my name.

Buzz buzz.

Who could possibly need me this urgently? Reaching behind me, I grab my phone from the table.

Four missed calls.

Eleven texts.

All from Anna. I look at the last four, not bothering yet to scroll back.

Hey Char, there’s a major event this Friday. The director of Love in Rewind will be there. I think it’s a great networking opportunity. Want me to RSVP for you? P.S. Have the best time today on your last day!

How did everyone react to the smoothie bowls at lunch? Did you get any pics of the crew or the truck? Would be great content for socials.

You booked the What’s in My Bag campaign! I scheduled a Zoom call for tomorrow morning at 9:00.

Hi. Me again. :) I talked to the A.D.s. I know you’re wrapped.

I smile despite myself. She’s relentless. And annoyingly effective.

My phone rings again.

“Hi, Anna.”

Anna is my agent, part-time therapist, and full-time chaos coordinator. She’s probably pacing her kitchen with her AirPods in, laptop open, juggling three calls and a crisis I don’t know about yet.

“Finally,” she says, and I can practically hear her shuffling papers. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you. How was the last day? Were the smoothie bowls a hit? Any photographers hanging around? And how are you feeling about how it all wrapped?”

“It went great,” I say. “We got it in two takes. I’m really excited to see how it all comes together, and yes everyone loved the smoothie bowls.”

“Okay, good. I’m lining up press for when you land. We’ve got a podcast request, two magazine holds, and I’m negotiating that brand extension we talked about. Also, do not comment on anything speculative. I’ll send you approved language.”

She’s typing now. I can hear it.

“Wonderful,” she says quickly. “I can’t talk long. I’m about to jump on with publicity and then clean up a red-carpet quote that went sideways.”

I laugh. Classic.

“Just wanted to check in. Text me when you board. I’ll chat with you tomorrow. Have a safe flight.”

“I’ll call you when I land.” I pause, glancing at my packed bags. “Actually, scratch that. Let me have one day of peace before you throw me into whatever you’re scheming next.”

Still in my black blazer dress from wardrobe, I sit up and walk over to my bags. After changing into a two-piece sweatsuit, I hang the blazer neatly in the closet. Instead of getting cleaned up by hair and makeup today, I head straight for the door, too excited to get home to my bed. A quick selfie in the mirror, something I take on every wrap day. It will be perfect for the photo dump when the movie comes out. With my trucker hat on, I step outside to meet my driver. A man in his late forties with dark hair and a suit turns around as I walk down the trailer steps.

“Hi Charlie. Ready to go?”

“Hi. Yes, all good to go,” I reply with a smile.

He takes my bags, opens the door to the black Cadillac Escalade, and I climb in. He gets behind the wheel, and we pull away from the circus.

The paparazzi’s words echo in my mind.

Any new romantic interests?

No matter how many awards I win or how many films I lead, the conversation always seems to circle back to the same thing. Who am I dating?