Sherri forced a desperate little smile, her hand rubbing her neck, and squeaked, “You’re welcome.”

Chloe handed over the legal paperwork. “All I need,” she told Betty’s assistant, “is for you to knock on my neighbor’s door and serve her this. Think you can do that, Brianna?”

“Uh . . . yeah . . . sure. Of course. No problem. That should be really easy. Uh-huh.”

Good Lord. What had Betty done to this poor woman?

Over the years there had been a few new Crows who came in and thought that working for the Betty Lieberman would be the best thing ever for their second life careers.

Most didn’t last a week. One ended up in jail during a holiday weekend. Not because Betty put her there but because once security pulled her off Betty and dragged her out of the building, she began beating the hell out of the cops.

So, yeah, Betty was the worst boss in all of humanity. But she was also the best agent in the known universe. It was when Betty agreed to sign Chloe as a client so that she could sell the movie rights to her books that Chloe had realized she’d finally made it, at least career-wise.

No matter what, Betty always had her clients’ backs. But to work for the woman . . . ? Especially as her assistant. That was another level of hell that most normal people couldn’t handle. Yet the ones who did went on to very great things.

Although, Chloe didn’t think Brianna would be one of those. She was a twitching mess. Still beautiful, but at twenty-six, she was starting to look more like thirty-four, and that was never good for a woman in Hollywood.

Thankfully for Chloe, she was a book writer. And as far as the literary world was concerned . . . she was hot!

“Now she may not be home at this hour. She has an erratic schedule. But Betty says it’s okay for you to wait until she shows.”

“Okay.”

“I really appreciate this, Brianna.”

“Sure . . . of course! No problem. Anything for you. Okay.” She got to her wobbly feet. “I’m on it!”

Wincing, Chloe also stood and ushered the woman back to the front door. As they neared it, a small group of Crows ran by them and out the door.

“Everything okay?” Brianna asked.

What could Chloe say with everyone acting so weird? “Doubtful.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Brianna hated this. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to help Betty’s stupid friends from her old sober house serve their stupid papers.

She should be a VP by now. She should be running a studio. Not getting coffee for Betty “That Bitch!” Lieberman or ducking water bottles thrown at her head.

Almost every assistant that Betty had had over the years had made it big in the industry or in any industry they chose to work in. In any country. Of course, there were a few who hadgiven up their careers completely. One former assistant now worked on a pig farm somewhere in the Midwest and refused to even go to the movies anymore. Another woman was said to be backpacking through the Australian Outback, her family getting the occasional postcard with crayon-written conspiracy theories about Nordic gods and the end of the world.

But that was not going to happen to Brianna. She was going to own this town and Betty was going to be the one to get her there. Even if that meant Brianna had to go home at night and stab at her pillow with a ten-inch chef’s blade, then so be it.

Brianna knocked on the door and waited.

You know, she really couldn’t complain. If there was one thing Betty did do right by her employees, it was paying them well. As her assistant, Brianna made more than two hundred grand yearly. And that wasn’t including the bonuses she received throughout the year for this and that.

Brianna knocked again and waited another minute or two. But still, there was no response.

Determined to find someone to hand this stupid stack of legal crap off to, Brianna tottered her way around the mansion. She should have slipped on her running shoes before heading over here. The shoes she currently wore were not conducive to walking and she knew that, but she hadn’t thought this would be a complicated endeavor.

“A Harvard degree and this is what I’m reduced to,” she muttered, carefully making her way across the beautiful lawn that surrounded the mansion.

Brianna finally reached the back door. She knocked but still no one answered. That seemed strange. A place like this always had a staff. Usually a very sizable one.

Of course, Betty didn’t have a large staff for her big home either. There were lots of rumors why. Some said it was because she still seemed to have a strange nightlife. The one that had put her in Giant Strides in the first place.

But Brianna thought it was strange that Betty had so many girlfriends. She was a bitch and prided herself on being a bitch. Yet these women of Giant Strides—who seemed to have a very unhealthy attachment to their rehab center—adored Betty.

So Brianna was pretty sure Betty was a lesbian. How else could women of all races, economic levels, and looks be friends unless they were fucking?

Still no answer! What was going on?

Determined, Brianna tried the door. It was unlocked. She eased in, leaving the door open behind her in case she had to make a mad run for it.

She knew this was basically breaking and entering, but she didn’t have a choice. The cops would have to understand. She worked for Betty Lieberman, for God’s sake!

Brianna continued to move through the house. It was as she expected. A rich person’s house, but with a lot more gold things. The woman who owned the place must be a fan of gold. Gold and white. Bright white.