$10,000,000 Marriage Proposal Read Free Page A

door behind them. That was arguably a clue, but it came only seconds before the ax.
    “You had a bad season, Janey.” J. Ferris sat down at his desk, but he didn’t gesture for Janey to take a seat. She stood behind one of his guest chairs, noting that he had nothing personal on his desk. No photos, no desk toys, nothing with any color whatsoever. The guy was married and had at least two kids. Or was it three?
    “I know I did. We really had some strong pitches, but I think—”
    “We’re not here to quarterback it. I’m letting you go.” He hit the space bar on his keyboard to wake it up, seemed to glance at his new e-mails, then looked back at Janey. She was pretty confident he had no idea he’d actually just checked his e-mail in the middle of firing her, but it was offensive nonetheless.
    “What? Please don’t do that—I mean, I’m so committed to—”
    “The job is to sell pilots. You failed. You’re not earning your keep. This isn’t summer camp. This is a business. You’re a loss. It’s that simple.”
    “Okay,” Janey said. “I mean, I’m really surprised. Every studio has ups and downs, and—”
    “And people lose their jobs for it.” He nodded to the doorway. A security guard had appeared. “Collect your personal items. We give fifteen minutes. It’s not that we don’t trust you.” He stood up. “It’s just what we do here.”
    “Good-bye. Thank you for the opportunity.” What else was she supposed to say? As far as she could tell, J. Ferris was barely human. “This company really shouldn’t have been called Flowerpot Studios,” she muttered under her breath as she returned to her office. “It sounded like such a warm, homey place and it’s just not. ” The security guard came to attention, as if he thought Janey might go postal. Janey stopped muttering and hurriedly threw anything personal into file boxes. But she couldn’t bring herself to leave like this. Before the security guard could stop her, she walked back into J. Ferris’s office without knocking. He looked up.
    “You are a cold, selfish person. It might be good for business, but it’s not good for life. Here’s a piece of advice. Bring in some photos of your family. Maybe say hi to people when you walk past them in the hall. It won’t kill you.” Janey walked out of the office before he could respond. She turned to the security guard, who was following her, and said, “You’re probably going to get in trouble for that, so I’m sorry, but it had to be done.”
    Ten minutes later she was in her car, breaking the news to her assistant.
    “I’m so sorry—I have no idea what will happen to you. I had no warning whatsoever, but as soon as I find another job, I’ll try to bring you in.”
    “It’s okay,” Elody said. “Don’t worry about me. They already reassigned me. I’ll be working with Marco.”
    “Oh. Wow. Great.” That was fast. “I’m so relieved it’s just me.” But as the words “just me” came out of her mouth, Janey felt hot tears spring to her eyes. “I’d better let you get to it, then!” she said as brightly as she could, and got off the phone before she embarrassed herself. Yeah, it had been a bad match, or whatever she was supposed to tell herself. But she felt like she’d been sucker punched. Now what was she going to do? It was 10:45 on a Monday morning, and she had no place to go. She pulled into the valet for the Tower Bar. She’d never had a cocktail in the morning. Now seemed like a perfect time to start.
    Waiting for her Bloody Mary to arrive, Janey glanced out the window and saw the billboard for the second time that day. The Tower Bar had a perfect view of it—as if the guy had been sitting right here having a drink when he had the idea. She glanced at the bartender. Was it him? The mystery bachelor could be anyone. But the scruffy bartender looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here. There was no way that guy had millions of dollars to throw away.
    The Bloody