in a traffic accident a couple days ago. It wasn’t too bad.”
Nicole wasn’t sure she was telling the complete truth. Something difficult was going on in Chelsea’s life.
“I’m glad it wasn’t serious. Was anyone else involved?”
“There was the other driver and my boyfriend. That is, not anymore... I mean, we’d just broken up. It was his car. They say it wasn’t his fault, but...you know.”
The phone rang and Nicole sighed. “Sorry, I need to answer that. We don’t have an office manager right now and the temp agency didn’t have anyone to send today.”
It turned out to be a photographer who’d seen their website and wanted a go-see with three of the agency’s models. Nicole took down the details and swiftly texted the clients.
While she’d been on the phone, Chelsea had wandered away. When Nicole went looking, she found her visitor standing in the reception area, straightening files on the desk.
Chelsea turned and looked at Nicole. “I don’t suppose you’d consider hiring me as your office manager.”
“You’re looking for a job?”
“I worked out my notice on my last position and haven’t started looking, but I’m getting my résumé together.”
“You don’t live here.”
“On the flight up I was thinking it might be a good idea to move away from Los Angeles. I’ve really liked Seattle whenever I visited Jordan.” Her face fell. “But...but I guess you wouldn’t want to hire me. I mean because he’s writing the articles and the way our moms... I mean, I’d never say anything to Jordan about anything here at the agency, but it wasn’t fair to ask.”
Nicole couldn’t deny that privacy was a concern. On the other hand, she had nothing to hide. She wouldn’t hire Jordan’s little sister just to prove that, but it would be a side benefit should Chelsea prove to be suitable.
“What sort of work experience do you have?” she asked, playing for time to think.
“At the company where I used to work I started out as an office manager, though I’ve been in HR for the last three years.”
Chelsea had experience a talent agency could use, yet the last thing they needed was a scared rabbit in the office. Nicole hesitated, but Moonlight Ventures was supposed to be about encouraging people to become their best. Why couldn’t that apply to an office manager, as well as other clients?
She took an application from a file drawer. “Fill this out if you’re really interested.”
Chelsea’s expression brightened. “I’ll do it right now.”
“One of my business partners should do the official interview. He’s just here until the end of the week, so he’ll probably want to see you this afternoon.”
“So soon? I don’t, that is, I...” Chelsea looked alarmed and gestured nervously toward her face.
“Don’t worry, it’s fine. We’ve all been there in one way or another.”
Still looking apprehensive, Chelsea sat down to work on the application. The fact that she didn’t cut and run seemed a point in her favor.
Nicole walked down the hallway and, with a brief knock, slipped into Adam’s office. He was intently watching a video. Prospective clients had begun inundating them with portfolios and DVDs of amateur performances. Reviewing them was at least half of how he’d spent his time since arriving.
He glanced at her. “This one is painfully awful. It’s from the stage mama of all stage mamas. She’s in the video more than her child.”
Nicole had already known that parents who pushed their kids unbearably would be one of the less palatable aspects of working as an agent. Over the years she’d come to the conclusion that parents were often trying to fulfill their own dreams through their children.
“I have someone interested in the office manager’s position. She’s filling out the application right now and I wondered if you had time to interview her.”
“That’s fine,” Adam said. “Beats watching this and we have to get somebody hired. You can’t do everything alone and I won’t be here full-time for another two months, give or take. Not that you haven’t been doing a terrific job. Agency revenues are already higher than when Kevin owned Moonlight Ventures.”
Nicole was glad she didn’t need to explain the circumstances, just let Chelsea make her own impression. Hopefully, letting her interview was the right thing to do.
JORDAN STARED AT his sister in stunned surprise. “You did what?”
“I got a job. When I went looking for you at Nicole’s agency, it turned out they needed an office manager. So I applied and interviewed with Adam Wilding, who’s even more delicious in person than in his pictures. I start tomorrow.”
Her words were fast and nervous, her hands twisting together. Jordan hated seeing her that way. For a while she’d come out of the shell she’d forged to protect herself from the constant tension in the house between their battling parents, then a string of cheating boyfriends had damaged her newfound confidence. The latest, Ron, hadn’t been physically abusive, but he’d done his best to convince her that she was lucky to have him, and any issues between them were all her imagination.
Jordan sighed. His sister’s new job would complicate doing the articles for PostModern. He’d need to have a discussion with Nicole about her motives in hiring a relative of the journalist writing about her and the agency.
“Congratulations,” he said. “Shall we look for an apartment over the weekend, or would you rather stay at my condo while you get the lay of the land first?”
“I don’t need to do either, at least not right away. Nicole has a guesthouse over her garage, and she says I can rent it while I get used to the Seattle area and figure out where I want to live permanently. Your place only has one bedroom, so this is much better than sleeping on the couch and crowding you. I know Terri usually stays on your boat when she’s here, but this, uh...is best for me, I think.”
Jordan wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or grateful. For months he and Terri had been encouraging their baby sister to break things off with Ron. Chelsea had struggled with the idea—hardly a surprise with the less-than-blissful example of domestic life in which they’d been raised. She probably believed that was how relationships worked. Now, after one visit to Nicole George’s talent agency, she had a job that was twelve hundred miles from Ron Swanson.
Jordan decided it was something to celebrate, no matter how it had come about, or how many complications might ensue.
“Could we, um...go over to Nicole’s right now?” Chelsea asked. “That way you could see the guesthouse with me.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
In his small two-seater sports car, he noticed Chelsea gulping and turning pale.
“Are
