I'm with Cupid by Jordan Cooke

Author:Jordan Cooke
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2010-08-17T04:00:00+00:00

Max’s Trailer—9:46 A.M.

“What is it, Max?” said Corliss, who’d jogged all the way from Tanya’s condo. “I didn’t think you’d be in until later. What with the Emmys and all last night.” Corliss wondered if he’d read The ’Bu-hoo yet this morning. She gritted her teeth and hoped he hadn’t.

There were deep rings around Max’s eyes. “Please don’t mention last night, Corliss. I was up until 4 A.M. with Mingmei Rothstein discussing our astrological signs and trying to find excuses why I couldn’t give her a full-body massage.”

“Yikes.”

“And this morning I come into the office to find even more bad news.” He opened his jar of painkillers, popped a few, and crunched them.

Corliss winced as Max crunched. “Nothing about any one of our stars, I hope?”

He gave her a desperate look. “Not unless you consider Legend one of them.”

Corliss sighed. “Uh, not exactly.” She felt terrible that she still hadn’t been able to find a nanny for Legend. His presence always seemed to weigh on Max in a way Corliss didn’t really understand. Then again, she never had to take care of a hyperactive preschooler with an unhealthy interest in bodily functions. “What is it this time, Max?”

“He egged the camerawoman’s Subaru Outback.” He pointed out the window of his trailer in the direction of the carnage. Sure enough, there was the camerawoman’s Outback, glistening and sticky yellow in the morning sun. “It’s embarrassing enough having that kind of car parked next to my Porsche Boxster, but to have it covered in eggs is really too much.”

Corliss pretended to be as appalled as Max—“That’s terrible!”—even though she found it pretty funny.

“The higher the sun gets in the sky, the more the paint on my Porsche absorbs the smell. I might have to have the whole thing repainted. And macadamia metallic is hard to duplicate.”

“Want me to run a hose out there and take care of things, Max?”

“No, thank you. I’ve just dispatched twelve of my assistants with toothbrushes. What I do need you to do is please, please focus on the nanny search. I’m dangerously close to the end of my last good nerve, Corliss, and we’ve got some very important scenes to shoot this week.”

His manicured hands were actually trembling. Corliss knew she had to comfort him—but she didn’t want to sugarcoat the truth. “I’ve been trying, Max, I really have. But it’s extremely hard to find a top-notch nanny in a city full of rich people who don’t want to take care of their own children. Nannies go like that.” She snapped her fingers; Max flinched.

“Corliss, no snapping fingers.”

“Sorry.” She pulled up an Eames stool and gave Max her most compassionate look. “What in God’s name are your parents doing on safari for so long anyway?”

Max glanced at his iPhone despondently. “Apparently my father is in the African desert riding on top of some elephant that doesn’t get reception.”

Corliss thought this was strange, but she certainly wasn’t about to argue with Max when he was in a state like this.

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