TWENTY THREE

Ryder

No matter how impressive Samantha's sister appeared to be, I was unable to offer an entry-level position to her friend. The number of persons who applied for such jobs was close to the number of people who submitted headshots.

There were literally hundreds of individuals vying for a spot on the lowest rung of the most impressively glistening ladder. It didn't make any sense to give Lexie a job in the mailroom because she was going to law school in a year, despite the fact that I didn't mind a small bit of favoritism for family members or friends. Instead, I collaborated with human resources to organize a paid internship with a defined termination date that was equivalent in pay to an entry-level position. After that, I requested Mina to pick up the girl at the airport and had my house management get her apartment ready for her arrival.

After that, I stopped giving it any more thought.

I was quite busy with several things. The business had been struggling for a few years, and throughout that time, manufacturing had been postponed or halted entirely. However, things were beginning to look up. I was ultimately successful in my search for an actress to play Sasha, Julius's wife; nevertheless, this did not significantly reduce the number of tasks on my to-do list. Some of the more senior members of an organization believed that because of their years of service, they had earned the privilege of taking things easy.

They weren't responsible for any of the selling, following up, or negotiation that needed to be done. But I couldn't do it. Although I wasn't as old as some of the other people working in the sector, I was still eager to gain experience and expertise in the field. Leave my mark. You owe me a significant sum of money. Right at this moment, I was attempting to get one of my actors top billing in a movie where he was obviously the star, but he was playing opposite another renowned celebrity who believed he deserved it.

I detested receiving gifts from other people more than anything else. In the event that it did not work, my backup plan was to criticize his box office statistics and bring attention to his most recent inappropriate behavior. Having to deal with Samantha's mother was the first thing I had to do, though.

I went to Lyndon's office on the other side of town, despite the pile of work that was waiting for me at my desk. Due to the fact that he worked irregular hours, I made sure he was aware that I would be arriving. His building in the downtown area was designed from top to bottom to subtly convey a sense of security without being overt about it. Doors that automatically lock themselves as you walk away are strong, gorgeous, and heavy. The corridors were spacious, and there were no hidden nooks or crannies anywhere along them. Your confidences are safe within your office because it is inaudible there.

I was allowed entry by his assistant. "He's been looking forward to seeing you."

I often make time for idle chatter, but today I couldn't bring myself to relax. It was quite inconvenient for me to have to deal with Kim when I had other, more essential things to take care of. I couldn't believe I was still required to, considering the only thing we had in common with each other was an adult daughter from a very long time ago. I couldn't believe I still had to.

I let out a deep sigh and muttered, "Kim is getting into trouble once more," as I closed the heavy door behind me.

There was no indication of emotion on Lyndon's face. "What exactly is she trying to find?"

"Gain additional funds."

You wouldn't have been able to notice the sneer that was on Lyndon's face if you weren't as familiar with him as I was.

"She does, without a doubt. She is aware that there are no more quarters in the piggy bank, so she gives it one last shake before putting it away."

I nodded my head and wished, for the hundredth time, that when my lawyer was negotiating with hers for full custody of Samantha, I had insisted on a lump sum payment. Samantha was my firstborn child. Instead, I was required to make child support payments to a lady who had never participated in the care of our child. Worse yet, I was required to pay it until Samantha graduated from college, which meant that Kim had another year to coerce financial support from me.

"What exactly is it that you need me to do for you?" Lyndon inquired while pressing his fingers together.

“Dirt.” I pressed my thumb and fingertip into the fissures that were located around the bridge of my nose.

"I'll resort to any means necessary in order to keep her at bay. I need an evidence that she has returned her drug use. A proof that she is being compensated for blow jobs."

When I turned around to face Lyndon again, he was nodding his head but had a perplexed expression on his face.

I responded by saying , "if I thought that would end it, I'd just give her a last payment."

"I know."

Even though I was aware that Lyndon, of all people, was not evaluating me, the scenario was nevertheless embarrassing for me. Even though Kim had been a pain in my behind for the past two decades, I didn't appreciate the fact that I was asking Lyndon to do something that he didn't want to do. Because I loved Samantha more than anything else in the world, not because I ever genuinely cared for her in the first place.

After a minute had passed, Lyndon remarked, "I'll see what I can do." His brilliant green eyes stared at me over his hawk-like snout. The furrows between his eyebrows deepened into clouds. What would you like me to do in the event that I am unable to locate anything?

I had no trouble understanding what he was getting at at all. Did I want him to put something there in the event that he didn't locate anything? Even though it wasn't part of Lyndon's regular repertoire, he was willing to arrange it for me. I gave it a cursory examination for a hundredth of a second. In the end, I responded, "There's no need." If I know Kim at all, there's got to be something hidden away.

Lyndon gave a neutral nod in response. My buddies were familiar with Kim. When Samantha was younger, we gave it a few of attempts to be successful before giving up.

They never liked her, but they didn't admit it until shortly before Samantha's fifth birthday, when we broke up for the fourth and final time. They have been sitting in the front row of her crap for the last sixteen years. Samantha was kept in the dark despite our best efforts by all of us. Even though she and Kim weren't particularly close, she made sure to take her daughter on a vacation every year.

The yearly celebration of Samantha's birthday. I never told her how Kim started pushing for increasingly more lavish trips while hardly noticing how old Samantha was getting while she was turning it, and I regret not doing so now.

As Lyndon led me out from the building, he warned me, "She'll be doing this to you too. For the next twelve months, be sure to keep your nose clean and your behind covered."

I snorted. Because of the competing priorities of my profession and my role as a sole parent, I hadn't had a lot of spare time to leave a dirty trail for Kim to investigate. "Sure, I'll step down from my position as a member of the exclusive erotic asphyxiation club."

“It’s only for a year, pal.” Lyndon gave me a pat on the back, and we both smiled at his antics. My temples experienced a momentary reprieve as the strain relaxed. Even though I had to deal with an absolutely insane ex, at least I could count on my close circle of friends to support me through it all.

I left his office and proceeded uptown to meet a customer for a late lunch when I finished my work there. It wasn't something I was looking forward to at all.

I was asked by Preston White to persuade Julius to include him in a forthcoming production of a World War II epic. I must have informed him at least six times that Julius was not going to remove that decision-making authority from the hands of the director. Nevertheless, I was planning to tell him once more, this time while drinking a martini that cost thirty dollars, and I was going to make damn sure that he heard me this time.

Preston must have repeated himself a thousand times before saying, "I just think this is my role."

I quickly drained my own martini and continued. I rarely drank during the day, but I felt like I needed something to take the edge off before I either hit Preston in the face or told him how the director actually felt about him.

When I brought up his name, a number of unfavorable adjectives were immediately offered as ways to characterize him. He was obnoxious, irritating, exaggerated, and full of himself. And to top it all off, he is terrible at everything.

I asserted my conviction by stating emphatically, "I'm telling you, it's not. Baz az is interested in an unknown. It is impossible for me to change his mind. Julius is adamant about carrying out his plans. You won't be able to sway his opinion regardless of what you say or do. And if you keep behaving like an idiot, the next great part that was destined for you will pass you by."

Several times over the course of this very late meal, I had the thought that I should just get rid of Preston and spare myself some grief. It was difficult to get rid of anybody who demanded more than twenty million dollars.

While Preston was reiterating the reasons why he was the most qualified candidate for the job for the hundredth time, I pushed my empty martini glass across the bar and looked at my phone. It came as a shock to learn that I had ignored Samantha's calls for three consecutive times in a succession.

I responded, "Hold on," and Preston was immediately brought to a halt in the middle of what he was saying. I got up from the bar stool and moved to an empty area of the bar where I could call her back. I am relieved that she responded immediately and sounded completely fine.

"Hey, are you having any problems?" I went ahead and asked. It's out of character for her to call multiple times.

She responded with a "Oh yeah, of course" as if she were unable to comprehend the reason why I would be concerned. She didn't realize that it was a behavior I'd picked up when I was younger than she is now and attempting to manage a toddler on my own, and she didn't comprehend why I did it either.

I just wanted to let you know that Lexie wasn't picked up at the airport when she was supposed to be.

I made a sad face and looked at my messages. I had also missed a phone call from Mina and a text message from her telling me she had to go to the hospital. Contractions. False alarm, another text telling me not to worry. Preston, stop taking my attention away.

I told Samantha, "Tell her to take a cab. The business will pay her back."

Preston was ordering another martini over at the other end of the bar. That jerk. I wasn't going to sit around all afternoon and watch him drink gin. When the bartender turned his back, I made a motion like I was going to cut his throat. I didn't hear what Samantha had to say. How to make Lexie feel like she belongs.

I said, "I'm making her feel welcome."

"With a job that most recent college graduates would kill for and a free place to live in one of the most expensive cities in the world."

"Dad," Samantha huffed. "Don't flaunt our power in front of her. I told her that you were glad to see her. Having her take a taxi isn't exactly a way to welcome her to Los Angeles."

"Well, the job and condo don't exactly say 'Get the fuck out,'" I said, ignoring the part about privilege. But I knew it was already too late.

My daughter could talk to me like a haughty, annoying, arrogant, and over-the-top actor could never do. It was also a way to get out of this endless lunch. I cut off whatever Samantha was saying that made her so angry.

"I am on my way."

Lunch was only a few blocks from my office, which was lucky. I went straight to the valet stand and was on the road in a few minutes. It didn't matter anyway. In Los Angeles, rush hour traffic seemed to go on all day.

To get to the Westchester area, it took me a while. I used the time to follow up with a few people. I made the drive go by pretty quickly by calming down nervous actors and telling them that I was sure their audition had blown the fucking socks off whoever they were auditioning for. I was standing in the terminal before I knew it.

I looked around quickly to see if anyone was standing alone. I only saw a few families, a group of students, a few couples, and what I think was an aspiring model or actress. A tall, beautiful blonde with a bright smile. She was wearing tight jeans and a short, loose shirt that didn't cover up her large breasts. In LA, there were so many thin models with flat chests that it was nice to see a woman with curves. I

As I called Samantha, I looked at her in a curious way.

I asked, "Where the hell is Lexie?" when she answered. "If she took a taxi anyway..."

"She told me to meet her at the coffee shop," I said.

"No, she's not," we replied.

Both the model and the actress had long, wheat-colored hair that was pulled back behind their ears. Her button-down top with short sleeves rode up, exposing a portion of her toned and flat tummy. An actress, I determined. She did not have the physique necessary to be a model. A figure like that of a starlet from the 1950s, with an hourglass form. Lyndon advised me to keep my nose clean, but it didn't rule out the possibility of having a conversation with a lady, did it?

Samantha let out a sigh before confirming, "Yes, she is. Just now, I sent a text message to her. She is currently standing in the exact same spot as the sign. She is carrying a bright red suitcase, and her outfit consists of a gray shirt and dark jeans. It is impossible to miss her."

The blonde had just been looking at her phone when she suddenly looked up and glanced in my direction.

I was overcome with passion, and suddenly I was given a nasty shock.

The name of the stunningly beautiful woman was Lexie.