Read Online Unscripted by Natalie Aaron and Marla Schwartz - Free Book Online

my first big booking. Hey, they’re an ABT show, we’re an ABT show, and we’re family, right? Yeah, the kind of family that drinks together in silence while plotting each other’s deaths.
    “This is Sasha.” She sounded curt.
    I gave my spiel on how fabulous our clip show was, which was followed by a long pause on the other end of the line. Sasha finally asked, “Who have you booked?”
    At the time, the only person we had booked was a former child star who was currently working mall security in Northridge.
    “Well, we’ve just begun the process, but we are expecting some great people,” I chirped.
    “Call me when you actually book someone I give a shit about.”
    Click.
    After a couple of days, and a couple of hundred phone calls, I booked the creators of Four Deuces. So with great trepidation, I called Sasha. And her response?
    “Call me when you’ve actually booked an actor. From the show.”
    Click. So pleasant. Like an old friend.
    Now, I wish I could say that I’m exaggerating this woman’s behavior, but alas, I am not. I have no idea what she looks like, but if voice is any indication on appearance, then she’s a plastic, cadaverous hag who smokes at least a pack a day, and if you wrung her dry, the only thing that would flow out of her would be martinis and Botox.
    A week ago, I finally scored the other two actors from Four Deuces. I was damn proud of myself. I actually expected the witch to cave. I knew that Casey Moore, the break-out star of the show, was untouchable. She’d recently crossed over to film and was currently starring in a romantic comedy with Jake Gyllenhaal. So John Taye was the last get.
    And what did Sasha say? “Call me when you get Casey.”
    Biggest bitch ever.
     
    I try to look busy as I see Will walking toward my desk carrying a highlighted piece of paper. Wow, he’s actually going to initiate a conversation with me. Middleman Peter must be out of the office or something.
    “Abby.”
    “Uh, yeah. Hi. Hi. What up?” Oh my God did I actually just say, “what up?”
    “I want to do a segment on famous guest-stars that were on ABT. So I need you to try to get these people ASAP.”
    Will hands me the list and walks off without waiting for my reply. I resist the childish urge to make a face at him.
    “He’s like really hot, don’t you think?” Christine whispers as she cranes her head over the cubicle wall for one last look.
    “Eh, he’s okay, I guess.” I’ll admit that I thought he was attractive. For about two seconds until he opened his mouth. That stellar personality is draining the good looks right out of him.
    Crap.
    I look down on Will’s list. The first name is Luke Canyon, action star extraordinaire, and client of, can you guess it? Sasha Leeds. Okay, desperate times, desperate measures. In my world, that translates to pawn your dirty work off on the person below you, in this case, Christine.
    “Christine?” My voice is whiny.
    “Umhum?” she says, her cute dimples disappearing as she frowns down at her calendar. Christine has started scheduling the interviews and is having her own problems trying to fit four of them into one shoot day.
    “Would you mind if I put your name as the contact on a request letter?” I try to sound innocent.
    She looks up and stares at me. “Who is it to?”
    “Um, Sasha Leeds.”
    “Please don’t make me.”
    “Come on. I’ll buy you lunch.”
    “That’s like so not worth it.” She turns her head to make sure no one is around. “Look, just fax it over and never follow up. Nobody here will ever know. Like he’d say yes, anyway.”
    “Ahh, now the student is teaching the teacher.” I laugh as I open up my laptop to construct the request letter (not even bothering with a kiss-ass plea). As I fax the letter off I smile to myself. Poor Mr. Canyon will just have to be one of the unfortunates who slips through the cracks.
    At 2:00, I’m drinking my second latte of the day when my phone rings.
    “This is