How to Land a Movie Star novel · Chapter 11 of 24

Chapter 11: The Photographer

"Don't open it," I said.

"Too late," said Marj, and slid the chain off the door.

The kid on the step could not have been more than twenty-five.

He was thin and wet, with a rain jacket zipped to his chin, and a camera bag clutched against his chest.

His eyes were red from crying, and he looked at me, and the color left his face.

"You're her," he said.

"Hello."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I swear to God I didn't know."

Marj looked at him for a long moment over her glasses.

"Come in before you drown on my step," she said. "Don't touch the ficus."

She put him in the kitchen chair, still warm from Wills's pad thai.

The second cat climbed into his lap without being asked.

He gripped it.

"Who sent you here?" I asked.

"Nobody. I looked up your boss. She's in the phone book."

He swallowed.

"I've been sitting in my car on your street for two hours. I heard the audio at nine. The kid in the school play."

"You took my picture," I said.

"Yes."

"On Wednesday."

"Yes."

"I want to know everything."

He nodded very fast.

"I'm freelance. Nobody pays me unless I get the shot."

He rubbed his eyes.

"Last Monday a woman called. She asked if I wanted five thousand dollars for one frame."

"Cash?"

"In a coffee cup, at a place in Studio City. The money was wrapped in a napkin under the lid."

He took out his phone with a trembling hand and thumbed to a screen.

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