Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 103931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Unsurprisingly, he doesn't take it.
Typical egotistical ass.
His condescending stare makes me shiver, and I hate it. I don't like feeling beneath anyone, especially men in this industry. I've worked my ass off just as hard as the rest of them to get where I'm at, and I deserve some respect.
“I think we're past handshakes, don't you?”
My breath hitches, and for one second, I'm afraid he will drop all decorum and speak out loud about what I allowed him to do that night.
He sidesteps me. “Plus, I wouldn't thank me yet.”
Oh, thank you, God.
I pivot my body to follow his movements, and my eyes widen at what I see. Paxton Ramsey looks at me as if I am a bug on the floor he wants to flatten.
Despite him thinking he has a reason to hate me, I'm still surprised by his behavior.
From everything I've heard about this man, he's not an asshole. The look of disdain on his face says otherwise.
“So, please inform me what is so urgent that we had to meet. It's highly unorthodox.”
My hand falls to my side, and I tap my fingers along the side of my thigh.
“I'll be frank.”
He cocks his head. “This should be good.”
I draw in a breath and then exhale, trying to push our past aside. This is business.
“I don't think my client is being offered her fair share.”
His hands shoot into the air. “This contract has been on the table too long. And to be frank,” he mocks, “I don't understand why you think it's appropriate to meet with me.”
“Well, I—”
He cuts me off. “If your client doesn't want to sign, that's not my problem. And it's certainly not my problem that the studio doesn't want to pay her more.”
“If you'd let me speak,” I half yell, yet it doesn't even get a reaction from him.
He's a stone wall of pissed-off man, and it's chilling.
“They are offering her five hundred thousand for her role in the film. Your client is making closer to ten million for his role. How is it even debatable she's getting railroaded?”
“Are you really here to compare your client's pay stub to mine? Brad has a track record of box office smashes . . .” He levels me with a hard stare. “You think she deserves what he gets?”
“I'm not saying she deserves the same amount, but I think she deserves at least a million. She will bring a unique energy and talent to the project. She might not have the same mileage to her career that Mr. Wright has, but she’s fresh, crisp, and sought-after. You and I both know she’s received high praises for her role in Sunset High,” I reply fervently, my voice rising with every word.
Paxton lets out a dry laugh. “It’s her first role. We have no idea what she'll bring.”
I place my right hand on my hip. “This isn't her first role.”
“I hardly think her previous appearances are relevant here. This will be her first feature film, and that’s the only thing that matters. The stuff before was child’s play.”
My heart hammers in my chest, but I refuse to back down. “And who are you to say that?” I argue matter-of-factly.
“The man you saw fit to ask a favor. Because that's what you're about to do, right?”
I glance away. “I think both parties will have to make some concessions.”
“You think my client has to make concessions?”
My eyes snap back to him, eyelashes blinking rapidly. “I didn't mean it like that.”
“Don't backpedal now,” he says with a smirk. “You're greedy. Always wanting what isn't yours. Guess the apple doesn't fall far at all.”
I pause and consider my options. It's clear he's in no mood to speak rationally with me. We've argued long enough, and I can see no end in sight for this dispute. I search his face for any hint of leniency, but it's just a blank slate.
“Okay, let's meet somewhere in the middle,” I say finally. His expression shifts to stone-cold.
“My client is arguably the biggest actor in Hollywood.”
“And imagine how good his reputation will be once the media finds out that he offered a piece of his salary because he believes the gap between the leading man and woman shouldn't be the Grand Canyon.”
He smacks his lips together. “Practicing your speech?”
“Just imagine the headlines, Mr. Ramsey.”
His eyes roll, and he huffs a laugh. “And what exactly are those headlines, princess?”
“Princess?” I arch an eyebrow. “The sexism doesn’t sto—”
“Seeing as your dad's a Hollywood king.”
His words stop me cold, and I turn my head, not letting him see how his comment affects me. If he only knew how cutting they were.
He'd probably rejoice.
I blow out air, pushing my shoulders back. I need to stay strong in front of this man. If I give him an inch, he'll take a whole mile.
I need this more than he does.