The pile of receipts scattered on my desk resemble used tissues. This week's expenses are due. I flatten one out and try to make sense of the barely visible cash register ink and Eric's miniscule note penciled on it. He's finishing up the call that I'm listening in on. I jot down the name of the restaurant that the casting agent mentions wanting a reservation for, and then drop off the call so I can pick up another line. I dial the next name on the call log. I start to type Tim Swanson Line 2 in the quick conference messenger window. Someone picks up the on the other end. I speak before they finish saying hello. "Hi, I have Eric Goff returning.... Perfect... Hold please."

I press hold and send Eric the message. I see the light on first line go black and then line two goes from red to green. I put my headset back on mute and get on the new call to listen for anything pertinent. Noting the name of the upcoming book on tape project and a tentative audition date, I unfurl another crumpled wad from my desk with my other hand. But the phone is ringing again before I can get the next expense entered. "Eric Goff's office... Oh hello..."

I type Mia @MTV to quick conference Eric regarding the new call. He sends back CB so I know he wants to call her back later. "No I'm sorry I don't have him... He's in a meeting.... Of course you can leave word."

I enter the call into the log. Then immediately get back on line two so I don't miss anything. I click back to the expense form, but a quick conference window pops up blocking it. I'm expecting it to be Eric asking me to interrupt the call with an excuse to get him out of chatting with Tim for another ten minutes. But it's from Abe Silverberg's desk.  Why is Carter messaging me?

ASasst: Busy?

EGasst: Actually yes. Very. What do you want?

ASasst: It's not about what I want. It's what Abe wants

I panic for a minute thinking Abe might want my ticket to Fin's show tonight.

EGasst: And?

ASasst: He has a coverage for you.

I exhale.

EGasst: I'll be up after I'm done rolling calls with Eric.

Then my agent quick conference window blinks.

EG: Get me off this fucking call.

I drop from the call and walk to Eric's office door. He's talking on speaker phone so I can easily play out our little farce. I knock hard and I hear a muffled "One second Tim." Then he yells out "Come in!" I open the door and speak louder than normal. "I'm sorry to interrupt Eric, but the car is already waiting downstairs. You're going to be late to your next appointment if you don't hurry." He gives me the okay hand symbol and switches the call back to his headset. "Awww Tim man I'm so sorry to cut this short. I wish I had more time to chat today. I'll call you next week to get the pages for that new narration. I think I have the perfect voice for it. Great... that's great man... have a good weekend."

He hangs up and I step into his office. "Hey Eric... Can I run up to Silverberg's desk for a minute? Carter said he requested me for a coverage." Eric waves me off in a shooing motion. "You better get up there before everyone disappears trying to beat the Hamptons traffic. I'm pretty much done for today myself."

Like the good assistant I am, I do as I'm told and rush upstairs, just in time to catch Abe Silverberg as he is walking past Carter. He stops beside me. "Goff's assistant... Maisie right?" I extend my hand. "Millie. Millie Stevens." He accepts it and I give him a firm handshake. "Carter tells me that you're seeing Fin Covington in Endgame tonight. Beckett's not my cup of tea, but I'm sure Covington will give it some sizzle. If anyone can make it work, it's him."

I bite my lip, trying not to snicker at the idea of Clov being played for sex appeal. For some reason I don't think that's the route Fin will go with the role tonight. "Agreed. I'm very much looking forward to seeing him perform tonight. I'm also looking forward to reading for you." He nods and grunts at me. "You did an excellent job on that last script. Do it again."

"I'll do my best Mr. Silverberg." I smile and he groans. "You're too young and pretty to call me Mr. Silverberg. Makes me feel too damn old. Call me Abe." I smile wider. "Okay. Have a wonderful weekend Abe." He puts a weathered Martha's Vineyard baseball cap onto his head. "You too Millie. You know what? Carter, you need take this smart young lady out for some drinks tonight and submit the receipt to me." He winks at us and walks away.

Damn it! I'm so pissed that I could scream right now because I knew that was going too well. But I shouldn't be surprised by this turn of events. After all agents and assistants are like pimps and hoes. Inevitably every interaction with us comes back to sex or money, in one form or another. It feels like we work in tandem to figure out how to best screw everyone else around us. Now how exactly will I get out of a virtual command from the Dennis Hoff of the New York Office?

Carter is ignoring me as he shuffles through an immense stack of scripts on his desk, pulling out various titles. Hopefully he has too much work to waste time with me tonight. And too much pride if I insult his ability to get it on his own. "So now you have Abe working as your wingman?"

He opens his bag and crams the slightly smaller pile he has assembled into it. "Not exactly. He just fucked my weekend plans, so maybe he was trying to make up for it." Of course it would be by getting Carter literally fucked instead. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the chauvinism.

Carter struggles to close his bag and gives up. He turns back to reorganize the larger pile more neatly. "Too many scripts and too many temptations at my Hamptons rental to get them done there. So I'm stuck in town."

If Carter is looking for a sympathetic audience, he hasn't found one. I'm stuck on Staten Island and volunteer to take home work every weekend. However, what he does finds is the script I came to get. He hands it to me and then restacks the tower on his desk.  "When Abe asked me to cover this script too, as much as it killed me, I had to admit to I couldn't handle one more this weekend. Since you did such a great job on the last script that you were the second reader on, he specifically requested you."

I smirk at him. "Did he request me... or did he request Maisie?" Carter releases an unadulterated laugh. It's a nice change from his usual artificial one. "I knew who he meant. The word is out amongst MOPIC that your coverages are excellent. Second best in the agency... behind mine of course."

I dramatically clutch my heart. "Holy crap! That almost sounded like a legitimate compliment Carter!" He laughs again. "I've complimented you before Millie. You just never want to hear them." I roll the script into a baton in my hand. "Because they're usually bullshit meant to bait me into something." Carter crumples onto his chair and scrubs his hands over his face. "If that's what you want to believe Millie."

Now that Abe has vacated the premises, a steady stream of bodies pass by heading toward the exit as the other MOPIC agents clear out for the day. Their assistants follow shortly after, taking the opportunity to run to the bathroom or get some food. This is the most quiet I've ever seen this hallway and the most unguarded I've ever seen Carter. I know now is probably my best chance at getting the truth out of him regarding the phone call to London. But I look at the time and it's nearly two o'clock. There's not enough time to play the game. I need to get back downstairs before Eric leaves for the day.

I unfurl the script so it's flat again. "It looks like you really could use a drink tonight. Should we get a few on RAA's dime?" Carter smiles. "May as well. I'll meet you in the lobby at five."

As I walk back to my desk I make a mental note to print out my own script before I pack up for the night. I need to read and edit a paper copy and I can't afford the paper for my printer this month, let alone the ink.