A smoking hot New Adult series by Maggie Marr!
Honoring her mother’s last wish, Lane Channing vows to follow her dreams. She takes the ‘big risk’ and leaves her small Kansas town behind and heads to LA, the city of dreams. She’s got a stellar job lined up, an old jeep, and 20 bucks to last her to her first paycheck. Her hopes shatter when she arrives to find her job’s been given to someone else. Now she’s broke and will soon be living on the streets if she doesn’t do something fast. Welcome to cutthroat – Lane is most certainly not in Kansas anymore.
On the cusp of success…
Dillon MacAvoy has one goal–to become a star–whatever it takes. Even if it means honing his bad-boy can’t-be-tamed-and-forever-single image. Besides the image isn’t far from the truth. Dillon cares only about his younger brother and his career. He’s on the brink of superstardom if he can just decide on the next right script. But for that, he needs a script reader he can trust.
In a strange twist of fate…
Lane Channing is Dillon’s last chance. If Lane lasts the summer without becoming MacAvoy’s latest conquest, she’s guaranteed a job in entertainment. No problem, as long as she can ignore the heat that pulses through her every time Dillon is in the room. After all, love and commitment with a sweet, hometown girl would only ruin the Dillon MacAvoy brand.
How about a little taste?
I might have been straight out of the fly-over states, but I wasn’t a moron. I definitely didn’t appreciate the looks or the attitude being shot my way. I stood in the center of the human resources department in my new suit and my new heels with my new bag and my new haircut, expecting to start my new job.
“What do you mean my job is gone?” My fingertips tingled and my heart jolted in my chest. I stared wide-eyed at the blonde behind the human resources desk. She settled her chin on her hand. She looked bored. My problem was definitely not her problem. A part of me wanted to reach over and shake her.
“A client needed a summer internship for his brother.”
“But you have something else for me, right?” My voice grew louder as the idea of what was going down sank into my brain. “I just drove two thousand miles for a summer job.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I need the money.”
Her eyes slitted and she tilted her head. “It’s an internship,” she said. “You don’t get paid for an internship in entertainment.” Her eyes roamed over me and my sixty-dollar suit like I was a hick from Hicksville, USA. When was the last time this little girl had ever paid for anything on her own? Her HR assistant gig wasn’t paying for those Loubies on her feet, which were peeking out from under her desk. Damn, those were some great-looking shoes.
“What kind of company doesn’t pay a person for summer work?” I asked.
“The kind of company that gets five thousand résumés a week.” She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling as though she was educating a Neanderthal and not someone who’d just locked down her third year of college. She resettled her gaze on me. “Who do you even know to get in here?” she asked as though there had been some tragic mistake other than CTA giving away my internship to some overindulged rich kid and me believing my internship would be paid.
Who did I even know? I cocked my hip to the side and sucked in my cheeks. Little Miss Attitude was not so great at HR. “A friend of my mom referred me,” I said. “But I nailed the Skype interview.”
“Who’s your mom?” She twisted her blond extensions between her finger and thumb, suddenly interested that maybe I was somebody she should know.
A piece of my heart broke with the word mom on her lips. Who was my mom? She was my world—had been my entire world—with her wild, curly golden hair and bright blue eyes, eyes that always seemed to smile even when things were remarkably bad. Tiny pinpricks of heat started at the backs of my eyes and I swallowed and forced myself to concentrate on the entitled girl in front of me.
“That’s not important.” I cleared my throat and looked around the gray room full of cubicles. “Is there anyone else I can talk to? You know, about a real job?”
I’d rolled into L.A. on gas fumes and grabbed a bed and a shower in a Best Western. I didn’t know a soul in Los Angeles. I had approximately seventy dollars to last me until my first paycheck, and I dearly hoped one of my coworkers needed a roommate for the summer. Call me a gambler, call me a risk-taker, call me crazy—I’d been called worse—but when I found out I’d gotten the gig for the summer at CTA, the biggest entertainment agency in L.A., I didn’t think twice about hitting the road from Lawrence for my opportunity of a lifetime. Especially after the hell of the past year. The only problem was that it appeared that my “opportunity of a lifetime” had evaporated.
“You can talk to Nancy,” the blonde said and jerked her head toward the door. “She’s the head of HR, but she won’t have anything for you either. Not if you need money.”
A flush blossomed on my neck and bloomed on my cheeks. Who didn’t need money? Oh, right, rich kids with trust funds and parents that stole other kids’ jobs. Yes, I was one of those people that needed money. No daddy to bail my ass out, no mama with a trust fund to pay for my entire life. I had to actually work and get paid to have clothes, a car, a place to live, and even school.
“Take a seat. I’ll see if she has time.”
Half a day later, after meeting with two other people, both of whom seemed grandly perplexed that I would assume my internship was paid, I had no job, no internship, and in twenty-four hours most likely no place to stay.
Man! I’d hate to be Lane right about then…but things do pick up, I’m sure. Can’t wait to read this one! Look for a review in the next week, or so.
About the Author
Maggie Marr grew up in the Midwest and made the move to Los Angeles to work in the movie business. She was a motion picture literary agent for ICM before becoming a full time writer. She’s written for film and TV and ghostwritten for celebrities. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband and children.
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