Nineteen
My heart remained surprisingly steady as I walked into Bud’s office. The last three times I had been in here were pure stress. First, getting dressed down for the disaster on One Straight Guy. Second, getting my probationary assignment to produce the pilot episode of Try It On. And finally, the last time, when he had praised my work and offered me my dream job. I hadn’t known going in whether it would be good or bad, and so I’d been more than a little freaking out.
This time, though, I felt completely under control. For the first time in a long time—maybe since the day I decided to become a film major and forge my career in this crazy industry—I was in charge of my own future. I was responsible for my own destiny.
The job was mine to take. Or leave.
Everything was in my hands.
