“Do you mind if I keep you company?” A charming smile danced across Mike’s manager’s lips as he closed the door.
Maggie glanced at his face. He was a handsome guy; anybody could see that. Over six feet. Athletic. Gray eyes. Blond hair. Symmetrical. A few years older than Mike. “Sure.” This week was getting shittier by the day. A little company might take her mind off things for minute.
He sat, unbuttoning his jacket. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”
“We might have crossed paths once or twice. Mike’s agent is my mother.”
“You’re Andrea’s daughter? Maggie Dawson,” he said slowly, as if he felt stupid not to catch the last name resemblance.
“The one and only.”
“So humble.” His laugh made her laugh. He was one of those people. “And pretty.” A glint of mischief flickered in his eyes. “Very pretty.”
She tilted her head, measuring him. She was unable to decide whether he was being honest or just saying things to get in her pants. “I have a boyfriend.”
“I’m sure you do. It’d surprise me if you didn’t.” He sipped on his cocktail. “What does the one and only Maggie Dawson do?”
She scratched her forehead. “That’s a…tough question to answer.” She couldn’t risk telling him the truth. He’d tell Mike.
His jaw flexed. “Is it?”
She giggled. “Yeah.”
“I see. And what did you do before that?”
She giggled again. “Okay. I used to be an architect, then I quit to be a writer.”
“Screenplays?”
“I fiddled a little with that but not for long. They’re not really my jam. Novels is more like it.”
“But…?”
Her gaze drifted to Mike. He was talking to some woman in a skirt so small it could also be a headband. She couldn’t keep her hands to herself, and Mike didn’t seem to mind. “Somewhere down the road, I lost interest, again. The novel remains unfinished, and I continue to stay undecided about which career to make mine,” Maggie replied.
“Let me guess, now you’re going to try something completely different?” James asked.
She glanced at him. “You guessed right. Being good at something isn’t enough when it doesn’t make you feel what you wanna feel.”
“A girl with passion who’s not afraid of taking risks and exploring new things.” He leaned forward. “You’re a dangerous person, Maggie Dawson.”
“Unlike you.”
He stared at her, his eyes curious.
She nodded toward Mike, who was talking to a short man in a blue suit now. “You and Andrea have been pressuring him into taking projects he hated, unwilling to take any risks to explore his talent and take it to the next level.”
James sighed, his eyes fixed on the glass door. “You don’t know anything about this business. Risk-takers, especially sex gods like him, most likely fall from grace. The success rate is less than seven percent. Seven.” He looked directly into her eyes. “Impulsive people who have no sense of consequences ruin lives, even their own.”
She scoffed. “You think you’re looking after him, protecting him from ‘impulsive people and their influence’?” She made air-quotes. “C’mon, James. You’re just playing it safe so you can keep squeezing him for money.”
“Everybody plays it safe,” he continued. “Directors don’t see Mike the way he wants to be seen now. They won’t cast him in those movies. Producers aren’t willing to take any risks either. What are we supposed to do?”
Her eyes flicked at him, challenging him. “Look for fresh voices. Undiscovered talents. Do you know how many writers and directors are sitting out there hoping, praying for an opportunity like that? Hire a talent scout or organize a Twitter pitch party. Hold a fucking online contest for all I care. Let the world amaze you with what it’s got.”
He propped his head on three fingers. “That’s a…pretty good idea.”
“I know. It’s a great idea.”
“But what about production? Who’s going to take a chance on a debut writer or director?”
“If you look hard enough, you’ll find one. And even if you can’t, Mike can produce it himself. What’s the point of having all that money if it doesn’t buy you the freedom you need to go after what you want?”
Mike returned, carrying a small tray of rolled joints, a bottle of vodka, and a couple of glasses. “Sorry I took so long. That Greg guy wouldn’t shut up.” He placed everything on the table and sat. “Shit, I forgot the ice.” He looked at James. “Could you bring some?”
James stood. “Sure.”
When he exited, Mike stared at her. “So…what did I miss?”