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Authors: Maggie Marr

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Women

Hollywood Girls Club (30 page)

BOOK: Hollywood Girls Club
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“Jessica.” Steven smiled at her. “We were just discussing one of your clients.” He leaned forward and pecked Jessica on the cheek. “A very hot lady that is in the buzz right now, Lydia Albright.”

Jessica gave Mike and Steven a knowing smile.

“Well, what can I say? I mean, it’s just so obvious what Arnold is trying to do. This silly grudge he seems to have? It’s a waste of the studio’s money if you ask me.
Malfeasance
on Arnold’s part. The public wants to see this film. And really, aren’t ticket sales what it’s all about, at least for the studios? Steven, you should take a look at the trailer. You can’t believe the number of hits that the Drudge Report has gotten since someone stole a copy and uploaded the trailer to the site. Over a million in the last twenty-four hours and close to twenty million in the last seven days. You do the math—that’s two hundred ten million in box office. Plus, it’s an action film—they do amazing overseas. Can you even imagine what the international ticket sales will be? The DVD market alone will pay for the film.”

Steven looked at Mike. “She’s very impressive, isn’t she?”

“I think so,” Mike said, putting an arm around Jess.

Steven leaned in surreptitiously. “I hear there’s going to be a screening.”

“Now, Steven, you and I both know that would be illegal,” Jessica said, taking a sip of her soda water.

“But a great way to get the community on board. Create some internal heat, some fire. Press Arnold from the inside.”

His eyes sparkled. He was a member of the press, a reporter, and what reporter didn’t love a secret?

Jessica glanced at Steven out of the corner of her eye. Slyly she titled her head. “Well, if something like that was to screen, I can think of no better place than CTA, and it would be a brilliant way to spend a Thursday afternoon, don’t you agree? After lunch around three.”

“That sounds ideal. Well, if something like that were to ever take place,” he said, grinning, “you can count on my participation.”

Jessica smiled. “Excellent. Now, should you hear other dates and times, you
ignore
them. Unless, of course, you hear it from me.”

The plan included a disinformation campaign. It was inevitable that the news of a screening would spread like wildfire, but to ensure that there would be no unpleasant appearance by Arnold, Jessica and Kiki were floating a myriad of dates and times throughout the community. Only the people they needed at the screening would get the correct information. Unless they heard otherwise from Jessica, CTA at three on Thursday was the only place to be.

 

*

 

Jessica rested her head against the leather headrest in Mike’s Aston Martin as he whipped around a turn on Laurel Canyon Drive. She’d done it; she’d passed along her verbal invite to everyone she was responsible for getting to the screening. There were no interruptions. Arnold Murphy had failed to appear. And Mike was an amazing asset. He’d worked the room with her. They made a fantastic team. Mike’s humor softened Jessica’s ever-present businesslike tone.

“Hey, so Will is having a party at his house tonight. It’s not far from here. Want to stop by?”

Jessica glanced at the clock. It was only ten P.M., but she was tired and
famished
. A guilty little voice told her she should go. Missing celebrity parties, Jessica believed, was one of the reasons she’d lost Holden and Maurice. Plus, now she had Tolliver breathing down her neck.

“Can we get something to eat first?” Jessica asked.

Her hunger clawed at her insides. And she was horrified to admit, there was only one thing that would satisfy.

“Sure. Where you want to go? What are you hungry for?”

Mike asked.

Jessica glanced sheepishly to her left.

“Well, you won’t believe this. But I want a cheeseburger and fries.”

Mike glanced over at Jess.

“Little overdressed, aren’t we?” he kidded her.

He pulled to a stop at the light outside the Beverly Hills Hotel and reached out and touched Jessica’s hand.

“A burger, huh?”

Jessica rested her head on his shoulder and nodded.

“Well, I know there’s an Islands on Beverly. We’ll go there.”

Jessica smiled in satisfaction, knowing that her meal, and the chocolate shake she craved but failed to mention, was only moments away.

 

*

 

Jessica knew she should be on her feet working the room. An agent wasn’t any good sitting down, a mantra she’d repeated to herself at every party she attended in the last seven years. A great agent continuously circled, meeting everyone, being everywhere, saying hello to every person at every party. You never knew when an opportunity might arise. And those opportunities definitely weren’t going to come to you if you were sitting down with your feet up.

Like she was right now, tucked into a plush couch at Will’s home with her feet resting on an ottoman. It was one A.M., and this party had just started to rock. DJ Jinx was warming up and the place was packed. Mike had disappeared an hour earlier, into a back room where there was some heavy-hitting poker game going on.

She chatted with Rachel Adamson, a young star repped by ACA, the competitive agency that had recently poached both Holden and Maurice. Jessica supposed she could count this as work. She was, in a way, trying to obtain a new client for CTA. Rachel was in that perilous position that young female stars found themselves in after the first hit—what next? Actresses had such a small amount of time and few opportunities to make their mark. Jessica knew that if Rachel didn’t “break out” in her next film, some new hot young thing would take Rachel’s spot in line.

“So, Jess, do I go with the action film—it could be a franchise—or do I stick with the small character roles?”

“That’s the million-dollar question, Rachel, figuratively as well as financially. What is your gut telling you? What do you want to do?”

“Well, Josh says I should go for the money; but my gut tells me that’s shortsighted. Shouldn’t it always be about the quality of the work?”

Jessica smiled. Not only was Rachel talented, she was also smart.

“I agree with you. When I advise my clients, I tell them it’s got to be about the work. Now, if they don’t care and only want the money, that’s fine, and I’ll negotiate the deal. But I know that part of what I need to give them for my ten percent isn’t just my connections and negotiating skills, it’s also my advice. The wisdom I’ve gathered over the last seven years.”

Jessica’s eyes drifted past Rachel toward the front door.

“Did you say your agent is Josh Dragatsis?” Jessica watched the little devil Josh stroll in with Holden, Maurice, and her former assistant (and now competitive agent) Kim.

“Yeah,” Rachel said, turning her head to see what caught Jessica’s attention. “I can’t believe Josh convinced Holden to do
Booty Time 2
. And I thought he’d finally decided to become a legitimate actor.”

Jessica could barely suppress her contempt. Her predictions about Josh and what he’d do to destroy Holden’s career were already reality.

“That’s what happens when it’s all about the money for the agent,” Jessica said. “Rachel, I’m going to find Mike. It’s about time for me to go.”

Rachel stood with Jessica and reached out to give her a hug. “Thanks for all the advice, Jess.”

“Of course. You know where I am. And you have all my numbers. If ever you’re unhappy or just want to talk, please give me a call.”

“I’m going to do that,” Rachel said, eyeing Josh and Holden. “Let’s get some lunch this week. I don’t think I want to end up in
Booty Time Part 3
.”

Jessica walked toward the private poker room knowing she’d just managed to take one of Josh Dragatsis’s big clients. Three months ago, she’d have been thrilled, wanting vengeance against any competitive agent who even looked at one of her stars. But recently something had changed. The hunt and the kill were beginning to seem pointless to her. Jessica tried to shake these thoughts loose from her head.
What was she thinking?
Her rapport with stars paid for her lifestyle and had catapulted her to president of CTA. Such success had been her dream since she was pushing a mail cart a decade ago. She was definitely losing her edge.

Jessica could barely see through the thick haze of Cuban cigar smoke in the back room. The stench made her gag. She had to get Mike and leave quickly or she might vomit on the floor. She caught his eye and cocked her head toward the door. He nodded and held up one finger. She knew this would be his last hand. A pile of cash and chips lay in front of him, proving that the golden touch that made all his films turn to hits seemed to magically apply to poker as well. She’d never met anyone so adept at and also so comfortable with success. Never worried he might lose, Mike just kept on winning.
Why couldn’t she be so sure of herself?

Jessica stepped back and leaned against the wood-paneled wall. To be in this room, hanging out with the who’s who of the entertainment universe, would have been any music or movie fan’s dream. Young Hollywood, the next generation. Rappers, rockers, studio executives, actresses, and actors. These people were amazingly talented, but they were just people. When had she become so disinterested?

Jessica watched her former client Holden Humphrey enter the room through the French doors from the patio. She knew that as president of CTA and Holden’s former agent, she should rush to him and schmooze him. Make sure that he knew he always had a home at CTA. But for the first time in her career, she didn’t want to. She nodded her head in recognition, and to her surprise, Holden started walking toward her.

“Jess?” Holden said, with what sounded like relief in his voice. He leaned forward and pecked both her cheeks.

Jess gave him a little squeeze and a sincere smile. She wasn’t angry anymore; she actually felt sorry for him.

“So,
Booty Time 2
?” Jessica asked.

Holden flushed and ducked his head.

“You heard?”

“Yeah. What happened with
Inside the Fire
and Tony Scott? I know he wanted you for that.”

“I shit the bed,” Holden said, using the age-old actors’ expression for blowing an audition.

“Holden, how?” Jessica exclaimed. “You’ve been preparing for that audition. You and Moises worked on that role for weeks.”

“I know, I know. Jess, it was a major cluster fuck. I just, well, I went out the night before. Josh had this major thing at his place.”

“You did what?” Jessica could barely contain her anger. Opportunities like starring in a Tony Scott film didn’t come often. In fact, most actors never got that type of chance in their entire careers.

“It’s fucked up, I know,” Holden said. He was obviously embarrassed. “They got it on tape, too. Plus, Tony was in the room.”

Jessica knew that this was major damage. The only way around it would be for his agent to plead and beg for one more audition for Holden. Blame it on a death, the flu, a blow to Holden’s head. Anything, as long as Holden got one more shot in front of the director.

“But you’re going in to see Tony again, right?” Jessica asked.

“Nah. Josh said it wasn’t worth it.”

Jessica bit her lip so hard to stop herself from screaming that she tasted blood.
Be cool. He’s not your client anymore
, Jessica thought.

“Besides,
Booty Time 2
will pay my full quote plus gross points.”

“That’s great.” Jessica feigned pleasure. She knew, even if Holden didn’t, that
Booty Time 2
would end his career.

“Hey, babe.” Mike slid his arm around Jess’s waist and kissed the top of her head. “Holden.” Mike smiled at Holden. “How’s it going at ACA?”

“You know, can’t complain,” Holden said, tipping the beer he held to his lips.

“Well, it looks like my girl is pooped. We’re going to hit it,” Mike said, steering Jessica toward the front door.

“See ya later, Jess,” Holden called, smiling and giving Jessica a wink.

What had been a $20 million wink a month ago was soon to be worth absolutely zero in the marketplace.

“Later,” Jess said, knowing that all her years of hard work for Holden Humphrey meant nothing at all.

 

Chapter 30

Mary Anne Meyers and Her Adidas Running Shoes

 

Mary Anne felt like a spy. She wore dark oversized Gucci sunglasses, a khaki trench coat, and Adidas running shoes (in case she needed to make a quick getaway). Her driver (Mitsy) stayed with the car while she paced in front of the arrival gate at the Burbank airport. The cryptic details that Toddy had given Mary Anne were sketchy. She was to pick someone up at the Burbank airport today. This someone would be on the three P.M. flight from San Francisco. According to Toddy, Mary Anne would know this person when she saw them.

It was all very cloak-and-dagger, something that made Mary Anne incredibly uncomfortable. A habitual rule follower, Mary Anne never enjoyed the frenzied adrenaline rush that accompanied illicit behavior. Her palms started sweating when she thought about making an illegal U-turn. Now she stood in the Burbank airport, waiting for something and someone she
knew
was illegal. Mary Anne just hoped it wasn’t drugs. Surely Lydia wouldn’t ever be into that scene. But Worldwide had frozen all of Lydia’s films, and her lifestyle was very expensive. Mary Anne wondered if she’d have a legitimate defense when the police nabbed her. “I’m sorry, Officer, I didn’t know that I was being used as a mule. I was just trying to help a friend.”

Whoever this person was, Mary Anne was not helping them carry their bags. It was bad enough she was their chauffeur, but she wasn’t becoming an accomplice, too.
But what if they got stopped in the car? And Mitsy! Why had she brought her mother?
Mitsy, even the new Mitsy, the one with a red wine obsession and a nicotine habit, wouldn’t survive in the clink. Mary Anne inhaled and exhaled.
Be calm
, she told herself. They weren’t going to get pinched. She’d make Mitsy drive. Who would ever suspect a fifty-six-year-old woman from Minnesota for a drug mule? Besides, this whole thing wouldn’t take very long. She had strict orders to pick this person up and drop them at the Best Western three blocks from the Worldwide lot.

BOOK: Hollywood Girls Club
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