The one where I get the hire car

8.30am. I’m up and getting ready to drive to Mr X’s. Sigh. God this is tedious but I’m happy I have a job and I’m praying it’s not raining too hard. My bedroom’s been leaking… So. I shower and it’s off the 50 miles to head to Mr X’s place.

I’ve learned a few skills being an assistant. You have to be able to text, google and drive at the same time. As well as talk on the phone. My hands free means that I’m able to do all that on the freeway. Sometimes I scare myself trying to use both hands so I can do an exclamation mark. No one realises just how dextrous I am. I really am becoming a pro but my ability with the blackberry is beginning to scare me. One day it’s going to end badly. I’m trying to pull over and text but sometimes … well… it’s stupid. Let’s face it. I’m being stupid. It is a skill though. The ability with the blackberry – not the stupidity.

Anyway, I’m booking the car. Mr X’s chosen one. It’s not in the shop yet but it will be by 11am. Great. I stop on the way and get Mr X’s coffee: A venti, spiced pumpkin latte. I know his coffee now. I’m getting there. I know he likes blueberries. I know he has to have planters peanuts. I know he won’t eat store made sushi. I know that he likes tuna salad sub sandwiches and a Caesar salad from spruzzo in Malibu. I know that he likes coconut blended green teas from Urth. Slowly but surely I’m knowing far too much. Sigh. When booking flights, he has to be in the aisle. At the front. Never at the back. When booking hotels he needs a king size bed. And high up. As high as possible. Never get a stretch limo. Always get a saloon car to pick him up. The juice has to be freshly squeezed. Always get his airmiles. Keep a pad in your bag. Write down EVERYTHING. Never miss anything out. Let him finish his sentences. Don’t interrupt. Don’t bother getting crap sweet food. He won’t eat it. Ever. Oh and he only likes writing in blue pens. And they really have to be roller ball blue pens, not felt tip – but blue. He likes blue. I had no idea. But see... I'm learning a lot.

On arrival… both Mr X and his daughter are in pyjamas. No where near ready. I turn into Mary Poppins and start getting bossy. “Come on. Chop chop. Let’s get you changed. We’ve got a car to pick up.” I swoop around the house bossing them into their respective bedrooms to get changed and ready to go out and then… once they’re done… we all climb into my tiny car. Heard when Mr X is a tall man and i havea small car.

As we’re on the PCH… there's a phonecall and it's regarding the film. It's drama. It's fascinating to hear Mr X at work. While Mr X is dealing with this fire, he gets another call on the line, someone's been lying to him. And this isn't good. There are tearful voices at the other end of the phone. Mr X is on flying form but this isn't good at all. The lies are being exposed and it's not good. Mr X is dealing with it. I note that he deals with stress in the real world amazingly well. He's on it. He's calling the shots. No fear just straight down the line straight talking. You'd want him on your side in a fight. I’m just driving but we’ve arrived at Budget. Mr X's daughter, bless her, has asked my permission to lie down on the backseat while we’re in the carpark.

I get Mr X’s driver’s license and credit card and set up the paperwork. He’s not off the phone. I get him to sign the documents. He could be signing anything. He’s still on the phone as I go back and forth, I check the car for any nicks, I get him to sign it all, and he then points out that they’re taking around $xxxx from his card - it’s just a deposit…. However, now it’s all signed off. I tell his daughter to get up and move her into the other car. Mr X gets out, still on the phone and he gets into his car and drives off. Job done. Finally. I hope that’s it. I really do. I wanted a weekend. Mr X drives off, ear still glued to the phone.

I race over to see Nicole and do some work at her house from 1-3. Then… it’s a Brits in LA meeting. We’re doing ‘The Reader’ for the Toscars. The Toscars. A bunch of English people in LA and we’ve split into teams – each one of us has been given a film in consideration for best film at the Oscars and has to do a 10 minute (no more) parody of the Oscar film. Lucky us, we get naked Kate and concentration camp guards. Brilliant. Not. But maybe. We’re full of ideas and before you know it… it’s 5pm.

However, on arriving there, my mind’s all over the place. I’ve been screaming at Fedex as they have still failed to deliver Mr X’s girlfriend's birthday present. I’m freaking out because he wanted it to arrive there by Friday and we paid for it to be an over night. Oh well. What’s a girl to do? I’m screaming at Fedex. I get so ratty by other people’s incompetence. Sigh.

Home. And then I’ve got a bit of time to meet Tamara for dinner…

8.30pm – Spanish kitchen. K from London’s there. A – I’s fiancée from London is also there. And K’s client and Tam’s friend M is at the table. He’s an actor, Welsh and successful. Dinner’s nice. Two other friends of Tam’s join us – two more boys but they’re over with A. At 10pm I get a text from Nico: “on the way back with bird. Can u straighten up the room”. He’s pulled. Oh god. When can I go home? The last thing I want to see is Nico making out. So… despite dinner being over I’m insistent we go on. M’s gone home. He’s tired. But Roof just called – he’s at the Chateau.

Right. We’re off. And off we go. By the time I get there. R’s text arrives. “About to go and there’s no where to sit.” K and I make it in time to sit with him before he goes. BUT he had Ruby with him. That was nice. Ruby who drove me to the hospital when I was shot. So it was good to see her under slightly better circumstances… By the time Tamara and A arrived, Roof had gone but he saw them on the stairs and at least said hello as Tam hadn’t met him yet. So… we killed time there until midnight and I got the all clear from home. He’d taken said bird home and was now going out for the evening. Rampant bugger. I dropped K off and headed off to bed.