Page 47 of Work It Out
Jared appeared behind him, hard eyes immediately finding Jake. “This asshole belong to you?”
Jake wanted to take up Blaine’s favorite hobby and growl. “I wouldn’t phrase it that way, but yes. He’s my agent.”
“That tracks.” Jared looked Shawn over like something he narrowly avoided stepping in, then shifted his attention back to Jake. “Your agent goes running around private offices uninvited again, his pompous ass will wake up in the parking lot with one hell of a headache.”
Shawn whirled on him. “Are you threatening me?”
Jared just walked away.
“What are you doing here?” Jake asked before Shawn could get his rant on.
“What do you think?” He shoved the hair out of his eyes. “When they told me Vicky had gone missing, I figured the only way to get out of this alive was to come tell you myself. So I hopped the first plane from LAX to BFE.”
Sure, Jake thought. Some truth lived in there somewhere, but he hadn’t come all this way to avoid an uncomfortable phone call.
Shawn’s lips tightened and he glowered at Vicky. “You can’t go running off like that.”
“Check your tone, Shawn,” Vicky replied. “I don’t answer to you. And you probably flew into Flagstaff. It’s hardly BFE.”
“Does this look like Flagstaff to you?”
“My office is getting cramped.” Rayah’s eyes narrowed on the agent, then Jake. “Why don’t you take your meeting in the conference room two doors down?”
He could’ve kissed her. Vicky didn’t need Shawn’s shit right now. If the guy weren’t such a shark in negotiations, Jake would’ve dumped him years ago. He squeezed Vicky’s shoulder. “I won’t be far.”
“Go on, before his head explodes.”
“Sorry, Vic.” Shawn tried to sound contrite, but he should leave the acting to them. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Rayah shivered when Jake leaned close to steal a whiff of lemons on his way out. Smiling to himself, he whispered, “Thank you.”
The door to the office had barely closed behind him when Shawn started in. “What are you doing here? No way these bumpkins are half as qualified as any trainer on the list I sent you. Speaking of, I heard back from Kyle Walker. He’s agreed to take you on.”
“Damn it, Shawn. I told you. I don’t trust anyone but—”
“I know, I know,” Shawn interrupted. “You don’t trust anyone but your miracle trainer to keep your condition a secret, but that’s what NDAs are for. And he already trains three MMU actors. The studio knows what kind of results he produces. If I could just tell them you’re working with Kyle—”
“No means no, Shawn. Look, it all sounds great in theory, but there’s no guarantee Kyle and his staff would keep their mouths shut.”
“Oh, and you don’t think these people would sell you out for a chance to claw their way out of hillbilly hell?”
Jake grabbed him by the arm, marched him into the conference room, and slammed the door. “No one but Pierce even knows, but it wouldn’t matter if they did. Everyone but Pierce moved here specifically to work for Rayah. They might care about protecting me, but they’d do anything for her.”
“I knew it.” Shawn stared at him like he was contemplating calling the guys with the fitted jackets, but settled for shaking his head. “She’s why you’re being so stubborn about this, isn’t she? Jesus, Jake. Fuck her out of your system and come home. We need this. You can’t afford to mess this up just so you can screw the help.”
He would’ve given a lot to fire Shawn in that moment, but he didn’t have the energy to look for a new agent. He also couldn’t afford to make an enemy of Shawn, at least not before he landed the role. He was too well connected at the studio. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t call him on his bullshit.
“First off, let’s assume by her you mean Rayah. She isn’t the help; she’s the owner. And unless you want to be wheeled out of here on a stretcher, you’ll keep it respectful where she’s concerned. Second, she doesn’t hire ‘bumpkins.’ Her staff is packed full of experts at the top of their chosen disciplines, most of whom are big-ass, super-protective dudes. Of course, the blonde is probably the one to worry about. She has that ‘bodies in the basement’ vibe, and I don’t think it’s an act.” Jake would cheerfully strangle Shawn himself before any of them got a chance, but there was no need to get into that.
“Right.” His agent had that gimlet look that didn’t bode well—probably because of what Jake hadn’t said—but he simply turned to stare out the window for a long second. “You know the online rags are already rumbling that Vicky left Mark for you, right? When they catch wind of her running straight into your arms the second he died, it’ll be way more than a rumble. I don’t think you want Fitness Barbiein the middle of that. Vic’s fans will eat her alive.”
Shawn was a prick, but he was right about one thing. A huge chunk of Vicky’s fan base was weirdly fixated on a romantic relationship between them. They lost their collective shit every time they were photographed together off set.
What a mess. He should send Vicky right back to L.A. with Shawn. He didn’t need the added scrutiny, and Rayah didn’t need the drama. He wouldn’t do it, though, not if she wanted to stay. And he didn’t think Rayah would, either.
Jake let his breath out slow. “Let it go, Shawn. You’ve made your position clear, but trying to talk me into leaving is a waste of time. I’ve made my decision and I’m going to see it through. Besides, I paid up front and the fees are non-refundable.”
“Oh, I could get your money back,” Shawn promised. Then held up both hands when he noticed the look on Jake’s face. “Fine. But if the part goes to one of the Chrises, I’ll never forgive you.”
