Hollywood Happily Ever After (A BWWM Romantic Comedy)

Chapter One

It was an oppressively sunny Southern California day as Olive Hunter made her way from her apartment in Topanga Canyon to her office in Santa Monica. All of her coworkers told her she was insane for picking a place in Topanga, but while they fought their way in through the traffic on the 10, Olive got to take in the sights of the SoCal beaches as she made her way up the Pacific Coast Highway. Sure, her roommates sucked and she mostly ate food she could buy on her gas card, but the view more than made it worth it.

Olive had moved to Los Angeles from New Jersey five years before, the first in her distinctly East Coast family to make the journey to the dreaded West Coast. In Jersey, her middle-class African American family fit right in, as she had grown up in one of the state’s many culturally diverse neighborhoods in Newark. But it had been a hell of a culture shock when she got to California, and discovered diversity in Hollywood wasn’t an actual thing. But Olive had grown up desperate to be a filmmaker, and the best schools to learn to do that were in LA. So the minute she turned eighteen, she was on a plane and bound for UCLA to study directing and screenwriting. And for the most part, she had loved her time there.

But getting out of school into the real world of filmmaking had delivered yet another harsh blow of reality. Despite the connections she had made in school, and the many friendships she had developed, the idea that she was just going to jump out of school and start making movies had been a bit naïve. Olive had no money, and she had been so busy learning how to be a director and a writer, that she hadn’t actually managed to build a name for herself. So she had been forced to beg, borrow, and steal her way into an internship with Stardust Filmworks, an independent-film production company in Santa Monica that was known for finding unrecognized talent and developing it.

In the span of a year, Olive had made her way from marketing intern, to secretarial assistant in the reception center, to actual receptionist. It was only when she shared an elevator with Agatha Bellemare, the newly elected head of the studio, that she finally managed to beg her way out of the reception pool. After telling Agatha about this fabulous young-adult series she was reading that had huge thematic potential, Agatha brought her on as her assistant, and the rest, as they say, was history.

Today, as she panic-parked outside Starbucks to pick up Agatha’s skinny soy vanilla latte, she was hoping that she might actually get the chance to sit in on a production meeting as the studio prepped for shooting on The Euphoria of Underground Caverns, the YA novel that she’d introduced to Stardust in the first place. At ten a.m., Agatha was meeting with Sebastian Jones, who would be directing the film, to discuss potential casting of the lead roles. And since Olive had been obsessed with the book since she read it, she had some ideas she wanted to share.

Olive also knew that Agatha wasn’t remotely prepared for the meeting with Sebastian. Most of Olive’s job was keeping Agatha organized, reminding her when she had meetings, and stopping her from double-booking when she forgot about meetings she was already late for. Agatha was great at her job, but she was a scatterbrain, and without Olive by her side, she wouldn’t be able to find her way home every night.

So Olive was more than shocked when she ran into Agatha’s office and found her boss already there. She was talking a mile a minute on the phone and was practically buried under a stack of papers that Olive had never seen before. When Olive rushed over to give Agatha her coffee, Agatha handed her an envelope and waved her to the corner of the room. Olive opened her mouth to protest, but a furrow of her employer’s manicured brow made it clear her best option was to do as she was told.

Once settled in an armchair out of Agatha’s line of sight, Olive opened the delicate gold envelope and marveled at the custom art deco Atelier Isabey invitation inside. She ran her fingers over the script, and was so lost in the beauty of the design she barely even noticed what the invitation was for. When she did, she almost threw up all over it.

We Request the Pleasure of Your Company

At the Marriage of

Kallie Wayy-Singer

and

Ash Grace

At The Wonderland Private Villas & Resort

Pecatu, Bali

From April 5th to April 8th

Accommodations will be arranged by the bride & groom

All additional materials will arrive separately by messenger

In lieu of gifts, please make a donation to a charity of your choice

Regrets Only

Olive’s mouth dropped open and she looked up at Agatha, who was still babbling like a maniac on the phone. Today was April 2nd, which meant that Agatha’s plane must be leaving soon. Didn’t it take days just to get there? Olive’s mind raced as she tried to anticipate all the things she’d need to start doing to ensure Agatha was packed and at the airport in time. Agatha would need a dress from one of her designers, something that no one had been seen in before, plus all kinds of fancy resort wear. Olive would need to cancel all her appointments. She’d need to find a way to get Agatha booked for last minute spa appointments to get her hair done, body waxed, and nails done? Shit. There wasn’t going to be enough time.

And what about that meeting with the producers tomorrow? Olive knew that some were scheduled to come in later that night. The one’s coming in from the East Coast might already be travelling. She’d never be able to cancel.

What was she supposed to say to them when she got them on the phone? "I’m sorry, the head of the studio decided to blow you off in favor of a going to Bali for a wedding? Damn it.

Olive stared at her boss and shook her head with disbelief, feeling lightheaded as she tried to steel herself for the day to come. She knew the next twenty-four hours would be the most challenging of her career thus far, and she hadn’t even had her own damn coffee yet.

Finally, Agatha hung up the phone and waved Olive back over.

Olive, my love, did you read the invitation? Can you be ready to go by tomorrow morning?

Olive wasn’t entirely listening; she was mostly running a tally in her head of things she needed to do to get Agatha out of the office on time. Let me call up to Vivienne Westwood and see about getting some of the pieces of the new collection for you to take with you. I’m sure they’ll have a few dresses that will be perfect for Bali.

Agatha wadded up a piece of paper and chucked it directly at Olive’s head.

"Earth to Olive! I can’t go! We have too much going on here with Caverns, my investors! If I took four days off to go to a wedding in a tropical paradise, the producers will lose their shit. I need you to go in my place."

Olive fell backward and collapsed into the armchair. "Me? You want me to go to Bali? I’ve never even been to Canada, Agatha! Why don’t you just say you can’t go? Then I can stay here and help you with pre-pro!"

Agatha shook her head as she absentmindedly answered an email without even looking down at her keyboard. Because, my darling girl, Beckett Blackthorn is going to be at that wedding, and we want him to star in our little picture. I need to stay here and get the ball rolling on production, but you need to go to Bali and convince him to be in our movie.

But I don’t know anyone there! Especially Beckett Blackthorn, Olive stammered out.

Beckett Blackthorn was a hugely popular actor who starred mostly in independent films, and had been performing on the big screen since he was a kid. The year before, he was nominated for an Oscar for his role as a soldier dying from Gulf War Syndrome. Now he was in high demand, and the rumor was he was looking for a franchise to sign on with. Obviously, Agatha hoped The Euphoria of Underground Caverns would be that franchise, but Olive didn’t know how she was supposed to convince him.

In all her time working with Agatha, Olive had always been considered more useful behind the scenes. That meant when celebrities were on site, Olive was sent off to make copies, or fetch lunch. It wasn’t that Agatha didn’t trust her; it was just that certain things were still above Olive’s pay grade. And being involved in the deals made with performers was above and beyond. So the idea that she was being sent to an A-list wedding in a foreign country when she didn’t even have a stamp in her passport was unfathomable.

Olive started stammering again, but Agatha held up her hands and made a cutting motion, which meant she was done discussing the topic.

"Honeybun, you’re going. I’ve already called over to Stella McCartney and had a selection of clothes from the new line sent to your apartment. They should all have been altered to fit you, and based on what I’ve seen, they’re perfect for the occasion. Just get your incidentals together, make sure