Chapter 2 – Bad Start

“3E...3E...”

Adeline wrestled with her bag, her file folder and planner in her hands and the keys that Stephanie had passed on over to her. Today was already off to a bad start – New York had changed in the several years since she had left and people had become much ruder over time. She was running late when she left her house and hit more traffic than she had planned.

She was dreading this first day. Last night's dinner had started off rough and Stephanie may not have thought it went so well, but Adeline had planned for much worse and was pleasantly surprised. She didn't have to use the knife, at least. They didn't talk to each other much, but as far as she was concerned that was a bonus. They simply introduced themselves to one another, ate their dinner, made small talk, and left at the end of the night uncomfortably but without any snags.

That was on neutral ground with a mediator, though. Today he was on his home turf and she had to handle him on her own, and between her gut feeling and Stephanie's warning she knew he would be a bit crabby.

Even though she had made time for a bit of yoga this morning and dressed in her favorite knit tunic and khaki slacks, she wasn't feeling the least bit relaxed or professional. Not only could she not find his apartment, but she hadn't even gotten the chance to grab a coffee before she got here.

She finally found the apartment, and struggled with the keys and all her things, but made it inside. When she stepped in, the whole place was eerily quiet and the first thing she noticed was the mess. There were a couple of t-shirts thrown over the back of the couch, dishes left on the end tables along with a beer bottle, and magazines laying in a messy pile on the coffee table.

She groaned and sat her bag and items down at his dining room table before walking over and first straightening the magazines. Then she threw the shirts into the hamper in the bathroom, picked up the dishes, and headed off to the kitchen to start the coffee.

One look in his sink made her groan again. She had a lot of cleanliness issues, but dishes were the one that drove her the craziest. She had to rinse her dishes and put them in the dishwasher as soon as she was done eating off them.

“I'm not a personal assistant,” she mumbled to herself as she added to the pile in the sink. “I'm this guy's keeper. Practically his mom.”

As the words left her lips, a pang suddenly stung her heart, but she pushed it aside.

“You,” she said, pointing at the dishes. “I'll get to you later. First, I need liquid energy.”

Luckily, she only had to search a couple of cabinets before she found the coffee and filters.

“First good thing that's happened to me all day,” she said. Still, after spilling coffee grounds and wasting five minutes trying to figure out how his coffee machine worked, she felt her patience dwindle even more.

After the coffee started and she took a breath, she prepared herself for her next job – waking him up. Stephanie had also warned her that this was part of her job. Apparently, he was a complete insomniac. Since he had slept through so many alarms in the morning, she had started waking him up in the mornings, and now it had become routine...well, to everyone except him. At least she was honest to Adeline and told her what to expect – he didn't like getting up early. He got angry when someone woke him up earlier than he wanted. Even nine in the morning was too early for him.

It was 7:45 now. He would hate her. No...he would loathe her.

She smelled the coffee wafting through the place as she walked through the living room and down the small hallway to the bedroom. The door was closed, so she knocked on it three times.

As expected, she got no answer, so she quietly turned the golden knob and peeked inside. She saw him on his bed, eyes closed and sprawled out underneath the covers.

She walked up to the side of the bed and smiled as she took in the sight. Such attitude last night, reduced to this while he slept...he looked peaceful. He actually looked adorable. If anybody heard of his reputation and then saw this, they'd never believe it.

The attraction was there – she saw why girls liked him. He was pretty cute, after all. His dirty blonde hair spiked out in different directions and she watched his chest rise and fall. If only his reputation didn't precede him, Adeline thought she might actually like him.

“Lance...”

She said it loudly enough that she thought she would wake him, but he didn't even twitch an eye.

“Lance,” she said a little more loudly, and when she got no more than a tiny stir, she grabbed his arm and shook it. “Lance, it's time to wake up.”

“What time is it?” he mumbled, barely audibly.

“7:45.”

“You're nuts,” he said, not even opening his eyes. “I'm not waking up this early, go back to bed.”

“You're waking up on my terms now, Sleeping Beauty.”

She expected a reaction, but he went back to not moving or batting an eyelash. She felt herself start to get annoyed.

“Lance,” she said, and shook his arm a little more forcefully, “seriously, it's time to wake up now.”

“Go the hell away.”

She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes upwards. He really was like a little kid.

“Lance, you're waking up whether you like it or not.”

“I'd love to see you make me,” he said, eyes still closed.

She smiled, but walked out of the room without saying anything. At the sound of the door latching closed, he smiled to himself at his success of getting rid of her and settled back in for a couple more hours of deep sleep.

Right before he got there, he was jolted awake by a sharp pain and something hitting his head.

“Ow! What the fuck, woman?”

He watched Adeline bend down and pick up an ink pen off the floor and wave it around in her fingers with a smile on her face.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Maybe for you, psycho,” he said, rubbing the spot near his eyebrow that the pen had hit.

“Like I said, you're waking up on my terms now. Coffee is almost ready and I have your schedule for the day all prepared. Come out whenever you're ready, but if you even think about going back to sleep, be forewarned...I have more pens.”

He watched her walk out of the room, swaying her hips with attitude. His eyebrow stung, and he rubbed the area with his finger. When he drew his finger back, he saw a tiny smear of blood.

“Fucking crazy ass...” he mumbled to himself as he pushed the covers aside and stood up out of bed. He walked over to his dresser and leaned into it, checking out his wound in the large mirror. It was no bigger than a quarter of an inch, but it was still bleeding.

She had some nerve – walking into his house, into his life, and taking over from day one like she was Stephanie.

Psychotic – that's what she was.

He grabbed an old pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt off the dresser and quickly got dressed, surveying the cut in the mirror one more time before he walked out of the room.

“Well, you decided to join the living,” she said as he walked into the kitchen.

“You're fucking crazy,” he said. “You know that?”

“That's what I'm told,” she responded as she sat a cup of coffee at the table in his usual spot.

“You made me bleed.”

“Oh, you poor baby. Should I get you a band-aid and a lollipop?”

He gritted his teeth. “You threw a fucking pen at my head!”

“And tomorrow, you'll know to wake up when I tell you to,” she said. “I might try throwing my clipboard at your head next. Now, what do you take in your coffee?”

“A little sugar and a pain killer – for my head,” he spat. “Maybe you should try yours with a side of Haldol.”

He grimaced as he touched the cut again, and she rolled her eyes.

“I'm not going to beat around the bush,” she said as she grabbed the canister of sugar and a bottle of Tylenol and slammed them on the table in front of him. “I run this part of the show. All the behind-the-scenes type of stuff that you can't or won't do, or think you're too fragile to handle on your own...I do it. I've been doing this for five years. I'm good at this.”

She continued to stare at him as if she expected him to speak, but he didn't dare interrupt her tirade.

“I could be working for fucking Julia Roberts right now, between my reputation and my husband's push in the industry. I don't have to work for people like you.”

“Then why do you?” he asked. “Why don't you go work for Julia Roberts? I'm sure she'd like to have you more than I do right now.”

“Because without me, people like you would fall apart at the seams. You can't handle the pressure of your own lives. You can't even handle a little cut on your head.”

She smirked at him before she backed off and walked to the sink. It made him angry. Who did she think she was anyway?

“I can handle myself fine, thank you,” he said. “I don't need you.”

“Yeah?” she asked. “What were you planning to eat today?”

She opened the refrigerator door to show him the almost-empty milk jug and single beer.

“Steph would have gone today.”

“Yeah, Steph would have gone today,” she said, and closed the door. “Steph isn't here anymore. You needed her, and now you need me.”

She watched his face as he realized that she was at least somewhat right, and grinned to herself when she turned around to stir creamer into her own coffee. This was the plan all along – to blindside him before he ever got to her, to get the best of him first. She knew if he had the opportunity to get the best of her, he would hold that control over her and never let her forget it.

Of course, she didn't plan to throw a pen at his head and hurt him in the process, but that was collateral damage and at least he knew now that she wouldn't take his shit.

“Listen,” she said, grabbing her coffee and sitting down in the seat in front of him. “We got off to a bad start. I'm sorry about your head. I know you don't like change. I'm not fond of it myself either. I'd rather be in Los Angeles with my husband right now, and you'd rather have Stephanie back. But you won't be getting her back.”

She chuckled when he gave her a dirty look.

“I graduated from USC with my MBA at twenty-two years old. Over the five years I've been doing this, I've worked for several different celebrities. This is not my first time at the circus – I more than know my way around this industry. I'm totally capable of handling your life for you if you'll hand it over. And you don't even have to like me.”

“Good,” he said. “Because I don't. And I won't.”

She sighed and shook her head.

“Fine. I've said what I needed to say, and I think you have, too. I guess we should get down to business then?”

He shrugged. “Whatever.”

Inwardly, she groaned. Sure, Stephanie had warned her that he was a tough customer and had the tendency to act like a child – but it was one thing hearing it, and a different thing experiencing it and putting up with it.

“Whatever,” she said with the same nonchalant attitude. She pulled the old planner that Stephanie had passed over to her out of her bag and opened it. “I have you scheduled for a casting call at ten this morning.”

“No you don't,” he said.

“It's written down right here,” she said, pointing to the space that said 'Casting call – 10am' in Stephanie's handwriting.

“I see it's written down, but I canceled that yesterday afternoon. I'm not reading for that role anymore.”

“Okay,” she said. “Is there a reason that you canceled and I didn't know about it?”

“Because it's none of your business,” he said, his tone warning. “Now, can we move on?”

“Fine,” she said tensely. “I have you scheduled for a lunch after that, and from one-thirty to five I have you down for a practice round at the golf course for the charity tournament this Saturday.”

“That will probably run late,” he said. “Is that all?”

“That's all I have down for today.”

“Good.” He grabbed his still-full coffee cup and stood up out of his seat. “I have a few things for you to do today, too. You might want to write them down.”

She sighed and pulled out a pen.

“There's the grocery shopping of course. Then I need you to pick up a couple of things at the dry cleaners, take my dogs for a run at the park, and I need some gas put in my car. Oh, do you think you could take a few of those dirty clothes to the laundry? I need some clean shirts.”

She forced herself to smile.

“I will get that done for you. Anything else?”

“A few things – but I think I'll save those for tomorrow.” He poured his coffee into the sink and placed the dirty cup with the rest of the dishes. “I wouldn't want to put too much on your plate your first day.”

“How generous of you,” she mumbled sarcastically.

“Looks like I don't have anything to do until later this morning, so I'm going back to bed. I'd suggest you start on that list though, it's pretty long. I guess I'll see you later.”

He walked out of the room with little more than a wave of his hand, leaving her alone. She clicked her pen and started writing out her unexpected to-do list for the day, mumbling to herself.

“I will not kill him, prison orange is not my color...”