The Decoy Girlfriend(92)
“What, that’s it? I know you’re not the type to bawl on the phone, but I expected something a little more effusive. At least a thank-you after I spent the night hammering out this contract with that ass of a manager.”
Moira really doesn’t like working with Gareth more than she has to. But when Taft found out during their last contract negotiation that Mandi was making less than him—despite being number one on the Banshee call sheet and a far bigger star—he insisted Moira and Gareth work together to ensure that they would have parity, at a minimum, moving forward. Even if it meant his taking a pay cut. He’s all too aware of the pervasive gender inequality in Hollywood, and it’s the least he can do to acknowledge his privilege and use it to be an ally and advocate.
“We’re already at the contract stage?” Taft can’t keep the surprise from his voice. As slow as Freya tells him things move in publishing, they’re often even slower in film and television.
Moira hums. “They’re really eager to get you both back to Dartmoor as soon as possible for filming.”
He dumps the coffee grounds into the filter and turns the machine on. “Um, can I think about it?” The silence stands for so long that Taft thinks the call must have dropped. “Moira? Hello?”
“Do you want me to go back to the table to ask for more money? Because I’ve gotta tell you, that’s a no-go. I thought I was a shark, but when Gareth pushes, he is shameless.” Moira snorts. “Trust me, he tried, and they won’t budge.”
“God, no,” Taft blurts. “The offer is great. It’s more than I could have dreamed.”
“Okay . . . so what’s the hang-up here, exactly? It’s not the indie movie we accepted, is it? Because I can get you out of it like”—she snaps her fingers—“that.”
He wishes he could be as honest with her as he was with Freya, but he knows how hard Moira works for him, getting him the best terms and advising him when to walk away when she can’t. The commission on this is going to be enough to pay off all her kids’ college tuitions. And Mandi is clearly leaping at the opportunity.
It’s the right fit for everyone.
But is it right for him? The question has nagged at him since last night and he isn’t sure he’s any closer to an answer.
“If it means that much to you, I’ll renegotiate,” says Moira. “Give me the rest of the morning to find spots we can push a little more, and then I’ll send you the contract to make sure you’re okay with everything. I think I can get us some equity points on the back end and ask for a signing bonus.”
“Can I have some time to think about it?”
Her exhale is frustrated, crackling in his ear. “Taft, talk to me. They’re literally throwing money at you and you’re not saying thank you?”
“Thank you,” he says automatically.
She sighs. “Not what I meant. Is there some reason you’re not excited that I need to be aware of?”
He gnaws on his lower lip. “This is just all moving really fast.”
“There are a lot of moving pieces in play right now. Fast is the only speed we’re on. And I know it feels like this all happened overnight—and yes, sure, if we’re being technical, it did—but you have worked your ass off. Your ‘overnight success’ was a decade in the making.”
“Yeah,” he says over the steady drip, drip, drip of the coffee machine.
He can’t be more eloquent than that when his brain is fast-forwarding through the next few years. If he says yes, what if he can’t escape the typecast? What if after the Banshee trilogy comes to an end, all the other roles dry up, filled by other actors who have proved their mettle in more prestigious roles?
Can he grow if he stays in his comfort zone, or should he take a chance on himself by pursuing a passion project that he’ll be paid a relative pittance for?
“You should know,” says Moira. “They want to keep you and Mandi together as a package deal.”
Taft grabs two mugs from the cupboard. “You mean as love interests in the movies? That’s understandable.”
“Not just the movies. They were thrilled with all the great press; one of the producers called me up to offer their congratulations that your showmance turned into true love. Guess they don’t know that the engagement rumors are a bunch of baloney.” Moira snorts. “If I’m being honest, the relationship is the main reason they agreed to the increased quotes we asked for.”
“Wait. Moira. They expect us to continue the showmance for . . . what? Both movies? That’s got to be at least two years!” He doesn’t even care that she’ll hear the anger in his words.
“It’s not like either of you is seeing anyone else. You get along. You’ve been living together for a month with no problems, right? Come on, this can’t have come as a surprise.”
“We had an end date.”
“Taft, sometimes we have to compromise to get what we want. You know that.”
He does. He wishes he doesn’t.
“That one is nonnegotiable,” says Moira. “Like last time, it’s a clause in the contract.”
“So if I say no,” he says slowly, “they’ll recast me?”
Without meaning to, he travels back in time, thinks about Once Bitten and not even having a choice about his future on it, and how different this decision is. Because now it’s in his hands and his alone.