But it’s already been a week since our last showdown. I should really start putting the pressure back on. I told Ivy I wanted this screenplay completed before the end of the year, and so far she has nothing to show me. Will better get his ass in gear too. I’m not fooling around about this. I’m taking this project seriously, and so should they. I’ve already put some feelers out. The interest is definitely there and I intend to capitalize on it.

I drain the last of the herbal tea out of my mug and slide it to the edge of the desk with the others. That new intern really has to do a better job of clearing them off and placing them in the dishwasher. She’s definitely not as good as Ivy was in that department. Every morning I’d come in to a neat and organized desk after walking away from a clusterfuck the night before. I never had to clean up after myself, so why start now? That’s what maids—or college bimbos—are for.

I still have Eric’s number on speed dial. All I’d have to do is push one little button and I’ll hear his voice. He probably won’t put Ivy on the phone, but it’s worth a try. I really don’t have anything to lose if he hangs up on me. Besides, I’m curious to know how he’s dealing with the whole Cassidy bombshell. Was it convincing enough to sew a seed of doubt in his mind? I surely hope so.

My fingernail is hovering over the button, when my intercom buzzes. Ugh, what now?

“Yes?” I say briskly.

“Ms. Price, you have a call on line one.”

I’m going to strangle this new intern. No wonder I can’t even bother to remember her name.

“Who is it?” I snap.

“Ivy Thompson,” she replies hurriedly. “I’m sorry, Miss Price. I know you already spoke to me about—”

But I don’t even listen, cutting her off by punching line one. Excuses, excuses—always excuses. But I got the catch I was looking for—albeit unexpectedly—and now I intend to reel it in.

“Ivy, dear. How are you?” The false sincerity is literally dripping off my tongue.

“Lauren, let me cut to the chase and save us both a lot of trouble.” Her aggressiveness assaults my ear. It’s so not like her. “I’m ready to write the script you want, but you’re going to have to do something for me in return.”

“Ivy, you’re in no position to—” I start in on her.

“Let me finish,” she interrupts, and I see red. “I’ll write whatever you tell me to about Cassidy, but I’m going to need a place to stay and a car and some money for living expenses. And I need someone to pick me up outside the Valu-Mart in the next fifteen minutes or the deal’s off.”

“Running away, are we?” I mock her.

“It’s none of your concern. Do you want me to write it or not?” She sounds nervous. “I don’t have time to play games with you. It has to happen now.”

“Hold on,” I say, placing her on hold before she can respond.

Thinking quickly, I hit another button, strumming my fingers on the desktop.

“Ryan, where are you?” I snarl into the receiver as soon as he picks up.

“They’re letting us out of school early because of the snow. I just got in my Jeep. Why?” he responds, and I can tell he’s not in the greatest of moods.

“I have an errand I need you to run. It’s important and it has to be done now,” I command, waiting for the inevitable blowback.

“Lauren, I really don’t feel like driving all over town in this shit,” he complains.

“I think you will when you find out who’s waiting for you,” I reply, tempting him.

He breathes heavily on the other end. “Who?”

“It’s Ivy. She needs you to pick her up in the parking lot of the Valu-Mart, but she says you have to hurry. She has to be out of there within the next ten minutes or so. Can you do it?” I ask, watching the clock.

“And where am I supposed to take her?” he asks, already revving his engine.

“I don’t know. I’ll call you back when I figure it out. Just go get her,” I implore.

“I’m on it,” he says, hanging up before I can say goodbye.

I lean forward in my chair and hit the hold button.

“Ivy, are you still there?” I ask, hoping I didn’t dilly-dally too long with Ryan.

“Yes,” she says anxiously. “So do we have a deal?”

“We do, and I’m going to hold you to it. You’re not bailing out of this. I don’t care if Eric comes begging and crawling on his knees. I’m going to have my lawyer draw up the necessary documents and you will agree in writing that you will complete this project the way I want it done. Are we clear on that?” I press the phone against my chin.

“We’re clear,” she responds, her voice clipped.

“Good, because you’re not wiggling your way out of this,” I warn, relishing this stroke of luck. “You can’t walk away from me this time. I own your ass.”

I hear her gulp, but she doesn’t fight it. “I’ll sign whatever you need. You have my word.”

“Someone’s on their way to get you, so just sit tight. It won’t be long. Stay on the line until they get there,” I order, remembering how good it feels to boss her around.

“How will I know who they are?” she asks, confused.

“Oh, you’ll know.” I smile, wishing I could be there to witness the look on her face when she sees who it is.

“Where are you taking me?” There is a slight tremor in her voice.

“I haven’t decided yet.” It’s going to be fun having this much power over her.

“I can’t leave the area, Lauren. I have to make my weekly doctor’s appointment. That’s non-negotiable.” Already she’s throwing a monkey wrench in my plans. She’s going to have to learn how to obey.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I reply, stringing her along.

“That’s not acceptable. You either agree or—” She stops abruptly. She’s getting all worked up over nothing. I wasn’t planning on transporting her out of town. I’m just not sure where I’m going to put her yet.

“All right, fine. I agree,” I groan. When she doesn’t say anything, I start to get annoyed. “What is it?”

“You sent Ryan?” she asks, her voice trembling.

Not this drama again. This girl needs to get a hold of herself. She claims Ryan attacked her the night of the gala, but I don’t buy it. Ryan told me what really happened when he came back to the theater, beaten to a pulp thanks to Eric. He related how she’d led him on for years and then tried to seduce him on the way to the film festival. I was so mad I could barely see straight. Ryan said that Ivy told Eric that he’d tried to rape her, and Eric went ballistic. I was livid that Ivy’s vicious lie was enough to convince Eric to defend her. I knew Ryan was just coming off of a bad break-up and that it was in no way connected to his supposed feelings for Ivy. I did spot a pair of women’s panties in the inside pocket of his jacket when I was cleaning him up, but I decided to ignore them, thinking it was probably another one of his fetishes that I’d rather not know about. If he wants to wear girly underwear, that’s his business.

I thought Ivy might provide a good smokescreen for him while she was at the Gazette, but no such luck. At least not once she got involved with Eric. I tried to dangle Ryan in front of her like a piece of forbidden fruit, but she didn’t bite. She couldn’t even play the role of Ryan’s beard properly. She is so clueless sometimes. I mean, it wouldn’t have been hard. He’s a good-looking kid. He got her the internship. It was the least she could do to pay him back and show some appreciation. But no, she had to screw the two of us over and get knocked up by the only guy in town worth a second look.

But now she’s going to pay. She’s going to earn her keep—and like it. So what if I sent Ryan to pick her up? She should be kissing my feet that I got someone there that fast. What does she think I am—a freaking taxicab company? She’d better wise up. I’m the one running the show from now on, not her.

“Just get in the damn Jeep, Ivy,” I reply without an ounce of pity.

“Send someone else,” she pleads, practically begging.