“Yeah?”
“Can you send me yourBanker Downscript?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“’Cause it’s ass-trash garbage in a garbage boot.”
“The fuck is a garbage boot?” Sam laughed.
“Not sure, but the answer is no.”
“Please. I’ve read all the good fic I can find and something tells me you captured Banker VIII’s likeness perfectly.”
“Damn,” Amanda said under her breath. “Fine. Only because if you understand the fine complexities of Banker VIII’s relationship—”
“With his uncle—”
“Then you’ll understand why he can’t bring himself to tell Munico how he really feels.”
“Whenever they pull the plug they better get them together. They’ve been dragging that relationship out forever. People are getting pissed.”
“Me. I’m people. I will riot. Okay. I’ll send it to you. Text me your email address.”
“I will.”
“I should go. I turn into a pumpkin at, like, nine on Sunday nights. I need my beauty rest.”
“’Kay.”
“We’ll talk soon?”
“I’ll text you tomorrow.”
“’Kay. Night, Tex.”
“Goodnight, Amanda.”
“Night.” She ended the call before she let out a high-pitched moan. He was trying to kill her. She was sure of it. She went about her bedtime routine, and when she was done wrapping her braids, there was a text from Sam with his email address and a picture of Majesty headbutting Bam Bam. She loved that asshole horse.
Amanda pulled out her personal laptop and found the file buried in her online drive. She’d go back to it every now and then, think of revising it and resubmitting it for a writers’ program, but the time never seemed right. She went in and added a footer to let Sam know she meant business:If you are reading this, Samuel Pleasant cannot be trusted. Run.
* * *
Amanda set Gus’s food on the ground, then rinsed off her hands. She looked around the kitchen. Everything was put away and the cleaning service would be by the following afternoon to dust and shine the whole apartment when they were on set. She checked the fridge one more time for the premade breakfast kits she’d found Dru that cost a small fortune. Dru had complained at first, but it turned out she liked them. Win, win.
“Okay, Dru. I’m gonna head home,” Amanda called out. “I’m gonna go.” Dru was in the other room watching some weird dating show on Netflix. Their day hadn’t been half bad. Dru behaved herself on set and she’d gotten a call for a different made-for-TV romance. Travis Cooper was already signed on to play the male lead. Most women in their age bracket had at least a little bit of a thing for him since middle school, so she had that to look forward to. Amanda missed Sam like crazy, but at least Dru wasn’t making things worse.
Amanda grabbed her phone off the counter and stuck it in her back pocket. When she went to grab her bag she gasped, scared shitless at Dru’s sudden appearance by the coffeemaker she never used.
“Jesus Christ. You scared me. I’m heading out. I’ll see you in the morning?”
Dru didn’t say anything. She just shook her head, then tilted it a little to the left.
“What?” Amanda asked.
“There’s no fucking way.”