Balancing Acts Read Online Free

habits her PR bitch came in, guns blazing.”
    â€œGot it,” answered Bess, thinking for the 998th time that day that her job was absurd. She got paid heaps of money to point out celebrities’ flaws to a rabid, regular public. Sometimes, very rarely, she actually did some work with a hint of substance—like the time she traveled with a certain celebrity–cum–U.N. spokesperson to Africa to research a story on her efforts there—but most of the time it was the same old story over and over again: talentless teenager falls facedown into a pile of coke and makes a sex tape. Or something like that.
    She captioned the picture with her trademark snarkiness and e-mailed her pages to the managing editor. She had no articles running in this week’s issue, so it was a relatively easy Friday, considering.
    â€œWhat are you up to tonight?” asked Rob. “Is Dan flying in on the love shuttle?”
    â€œI wish,” grumbled Bess. Dan was her boyfriend. Technically, he was her long-distance boyfriend, but it felt strange to think of him that way. He had moved to Los Angeles three months ago, and the coastal separation had proved to be more of a strain than Bess had been anticipating. A screenwriter at heart but a Wall Street banker by trade, he had taken a huge risk and applied to USC’s film school last year. Bess had known he would get in—he really was talented—but was still shocked to find out that he would, indeed, be leaving her to do so.
    They had been traveling back and forth on weekends here and there, but not having immediate access to each other was hard. Very hard. “He’s staying in LA this weekend, working on a script,” she explained with a sigh.
    â€œNo nookie for you then, huh?” asked Rob, as he squirted lotion from a freebie tube that retailed for $80 an ounce into his palms. As senior editors and reporters at the most popular celebrity tabloid magazine in the country, they were forever getting the best swag imaginable. This, of course, was highly unethical, but then again, everything about their job defied any sort of ethical code.
    â€œZero,” replied Bess. “And the next time the word nookie comes out of your mouth, I am going to strap you into your time machine and send you back to the year 2000.”
    â€œClever girl!” replied Rob, clapping his hands. “Point taken. So you’re just going to lay low this weekend?”
    â€œYeah, for the most part.” She had been planning to research story ideas for three weekends in a row now. Her New Year’s resolution had been to break out of her ridiculous job to actually do some real reporting. Something that had nothing at all to do with weight fluctuation, hair highlights, or Botox, which were the usual topics of the freelance work she did for a couple of the major women’s magazines around town.
    Every time she would sit down to brainstorm, however, she was about as focused as a puppy with a bowl full of Red Bull. She found herself daydreaming about Dan, wondering what he was doing and fantasizing about seeing him again. She had become a cliché, much to her chagrin. She knew it was okay to be in love, but to shelve your own goals while doing so was a huge mistake—one she had seen too many people make.
    â€œWhat are you doing this weekend, Robbo?” she asked, ready for his usual spiel: work out, see a movie, hang with his girlfriend. Rob was nothing if not predictable.
    â€œEh, nothing much, actually. Amelia had to go out of town for work, so I guess I’ll just have a dude weekend.”
    â€œAnd what does that entail?” asked Bess.
    â€œPizza, clothes strewn all over the place, not putting the toilet seat down, and porn.”
    â€œSounds thrilling!” replied Bess, laughing.
    Rob smiled. “I know, right? It all sounds so good in theory, but I’ll be honest, it gets old in about four hours, tops. Hey, are you busy tonight?