Hollywood Girls Club (36 page)

“I know it will be, Lydia; you have an instinct about these things.” Ted paused. “Lydia, I have a rather unorthodox question for you. Something that I was toying with last night.”

Lydia knew that meant he’d been picking Cici’s brain about it. “Would you ever consider—now stay with me on this, as it’s a little unorthodox—would you ever consider running Worldwide?” Lydia didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t a job she had ever considered. President of production? At a studio?

“Ted, this … I mean, this really …I’m caught a little off …guard.”

“I know, I know. It’s unconventional and not something we’d discussed. But Lydia, you have amazing taste and instincts about what makes a great film. And not just with one genre like action or thriller or romantic comedy, but with it
all
. Everyone in town loves you, and your relationships are very impressive.”

Lydia glanced down at
Variety
. It was all true. Except for one Arnold Murphy, who was now banished to the Siberia of entertainment, she was respected and well liked. She’d worked long and hard to establish her reputation and her career. It seemed as though there were no mountains left to climb, except maybe this one.

“Well, I have to ask the obvious question: What happens to my films?”

“Well, at Worldwide, we’d want you to stay on as producer for all your films. Give you sort of a hybrid deal. You could produce some films and be president of production, too.”

Lydia realized that these deals had been done before, in rare circumstances where the producers were exceptionally adept. In some cases it was huge success, in others an abject failure.

“Do you mind if I think on it?”

“Of course. I didn’t expect an answer today. But listen, I’d really like to sit down and speak with you about it. Over lunch? What about tomorrow at the Grill?”

“Aren’t you in Prague?”

“Yes, but we’re coming in tonight. Cici isn’t on the shooting schedule and has the next three days off, and she wants to shop a little. Something about some new Louboutins? I don’t know what those are, but she wants them.”

Lydia stifled a laugh.
What a star.
Cici was stealing Ted’s jet for a new pair of shoes.

“Tomorrow is great. See you there at one.”

“Fantastic, Lydia. And please don’t make a decision at least until we talk.”

“Sure thing. Thanks, Ted.”

Lydia hung up the phone. She spun her chair around and gazed at the tower of power. Maybe the executive suite wouldn’t be empty for long.

Chapter 37

Jessica Caulfield

Jessica Caulfield’s move into the suite of six small offices in Beverly Hills was finally complete. She’d been surprised by how many agents from CTA had begged to come with her. She’d taken two and told the rest that there just wasn’t room. The same went for her clients. Jessica found herself in the enviable position of selecting those few clients from her A-list roster she wanted to take with
her
. As an agent, she’d juggled the careers of twenty to forty writers, directors, and actors at any given time. As a manager, she’d chosen a mere ten to be her clients. It was a more personal relationship, that of manager. She was to be their career guide, creative muse, spiritual guru, and motherly influence. Anything they needed to be able to perform at this hyper-competitive, high-stakes level. Her maternal instinct, having already begun to kick in based on her hormones, made her well suited to be the mother hen to an elite flock of ten.

Jessica waddled back to her office from the bathroom, a trip that was becoming increasingly familiar as the baby grew and rested ever more firmly upon her bladder.

“Holden Humphrey on line one,” Lauren called out.

Jessica paused, catching her breath before lumbering across the hall to her office.

“Tell him it’s going to be just a minute.”

The baby had begun to slow her down, something that would have been completely unforgivable at CTA but that was just part of her existence at her own company. She was the boss; she made the rules.

Jessica settled weightily into her chair and reached for her headset.
Holden? Hmm.
She hadn’t spoken to him since the night she’d bumped into him at Will’s party.
Booty Time 2
had come and gone. As Jessica predicted, it was a complete disaster at the box office. She heard little more about Holden after that. The industry seemed to have moved on to the next big male star.

“Holden,” Jessica said. “How are you?”

“Hi,
Jess
. It sure is good to hear your voice.”

To her, he sounded forlorn.

“So tell me, what are you working on right now?” Jessica asked, curious to hear what, if anything, Josh Dragatsis had in the works.

“Well, you know … It’s kind of quiet right now,” Holden said with a hint of loneliness in his voice.

Jessica knew his career was cold. Casting was gearing up on a number of films, all of which had roles that were ideal for someone like Holden. If Dragatsis wasn’t even getting Holden out for those roles, then it truly was frigid in the marketplace for him.

“So I hear you’ve got your own place now?” Holden asked.

“Yes I do,” Jessica said, waiting for him to ask. She remembered that Holden had always been dismissive of her belief that he should take a manager. For the ten percent, she’d always thought another set of eyes and ears looking for opportunities for an actor could be well worth it. And of course, her belief was only stronger now

“And a baby on the way, too.”

“We’re very excited,” Jessica said.

If she was still an agent, she’d be trying to hide her pregnancy, keeping it from her competitors, who would see her upcoming maternity leave as the perfect opportunity to steal her clients. But as a manager, she didn’t feel that way. There was an unspoken agreement among managers: no poaching. She was a more integral part of her clients’ lives, and they hers. It was the type of relationship she’d tried to nurture with her clients as an agent but that was more suited to manager.

“So, Jess, I was wondering, do you remember a long time ago, when you told me to never be embarrassed to make the call?”

Jessica did remember a morning, what seemed like very long ago, when she’d cooked Holden a steaming plate of eggs.

“I do, in fact, remember,” Jessica said, smiling not so much about Holden, but about her former self, her agent self, hyper-aggressive and competitive.

“So I’m making it. The call.”

Jessica couldn’t help but smile even wider. It was so sweet when they returned. Unlike a number of representatives, she never abused or humiliated her clients when they wanted to come back. And in this instance, with her change in position, and Holden’s decline in the marketplace, it would be completely understandable should Jessica choose not to represent him again. She could easily beg off; her roster as a manager was in fact full. But she had a special spot in her heart for Holden, and she truly believed that with the right direction, he could be a huge star.

“Holden, I’m thrilled that you did. So why don’t you come by the house tonight and we’ll have some dinner and talk about what you want to do. Around eight?” Jessica asked, not missing a beat, nothing belying her sense of satisfaction at once again being right.

“Thanks, Jess,” Holden said.

He was grateful and relieved. She could hear it in his voice. Jessica pushed the Release button on her phone.

“Lauren, can I get something to eat?” she called out to her assistant. “Let’s order lunch early. Maybe a cheeseburger?”

“If I eat any more cheeseburgers, Jess, I am going to be as big as you, and that’s without the pregnancy. How about a nice salad?” Lauren offered.

“Mike’s paying you, isn’t he? Are you keeping a diary for him of what I eat?”

“I’m calling La Scala. You love their turkey chop salad.”

Jessica grimaced. A salad would have to do. Just as she thought about lunch, she felt it. A thud against the inside of her tummy. “Wow!” Jessica yelled.

“What?!” Lauren screamed and rushed back into Jessica’s office, her earpiece dangling.

“He just kicked me!” Jessica said, her face full of delight. “He must be hungry, too.”

“See,” said Lauren, “he’s excited about the salad.”

Jessica sat rubbing her tummy in the spot that her son had thumped her. Never before had she been so thrilled about being kicked by a man.

Chapter 38

Mary Anne Meyers

Mary Anne pattered across Adam’s kitchen floor. It was early; her laptop sat open on the kitchen table. She’d been up writing since four A.M. She was so close to being finished. She had to figure out some tangles in the third act, and then it would be complete. Zymar would be thrilled. They’d finally hammered out the twist in the second act, where Cici’s character appears to be a bad guy; of course, the audience finds out later it was all a ploy. It’d taken forever, but now this draft was almost ready. Just in time, as preproduction was a heartbeat away.

Mary Anne looked up to see Adam, freshly showered and dressed, walking into the kitchen. She sat at her computer with coffee breath and bed head, but it didn’t seem to matter to him. He walked over and gave her a gentle kiss on the mouth.

“Good morning,” he said, heading for the coffeepot. “How about some eggs?”

“Sure,” Mary Anne said, making a move to get up from her chair.

Adam laughed. “I’ll make them.” He reached over and tousled her already messy hair.

She was still getting used to his laid-back ways. He kept surprising her with each kindness he bestowed. Last night, they’d spent the evening reading together, a silent joy for her. Adam’s apartment was above his bookstore, a cozy two-bedroom with a deck and a view. He’d remodeled the space after he moved to Los Angeles. Originally his aunt used it as storage and an office, but there was enough storage downstairs. It was much smaller than Mary Anne’s house in the Hills, but much cozier, too. Plus, it was like having your own personal library of all the newest books right downstairs. For two writers, it was heaven.

“I’m going to grab the paper before the eggs,” Adam said, heading to the back staircase that led to the bookstore below.

Another perk: They received every major paper in America, and there was always one extra. She loved dating a man with a bookstore.

“Look what I found,” Adam called, heading back up the stairs. He tore open a box.

Inside were four advance copies of Mitsy’s first book.

“They’re really cool,” Adam said, handing one to Mary Anne.

She’d seen one before over at Mitsy’s, but somehow this felt more real, holding a copy and knowing that every bookstore owner in America would receive Mitsy’s book today. It was an exact replica of the first book Mary Anne ever read. The hand-drawn pictures were even the same.

“I’m so happy for her,” Mary Anne said, flipping through the book. “And I’m happy for me, too.” She looked at Adam.

With this gentle man, in this little bookshop away from the bright lights and celebrity of Hollywood and the movie business, she had finally found her haven. It wasn’t quite Midwestern, but it wasn’t very L.A., either.

“Hey, you figured out the third act,” Adam said, bending over and skimming the screen of Mary Anne’s laptop.

“I sure did,” Mary Anne said, grinning.

“Bet you guys leave room for a sequel.”

“There is always room for a sequel,” Mary Anne said, turning back to her computer screen and typing two final words.

THE END

Epilogue

Ten Months Later

Jessica sat nursing Max. Only five months old, he’d slept through the Sunday afternoon premiere of Mike’s newest film,
Sky Man
. She was thrilled. So was Mike.
Sky Man
would be a huge hit among the tiny-tot set. The premiere party was held in a tent that had been designed to be an exact replica of the cloud city Sky World that was home to
Sky Man
. Mike had worked so hard on getting this film made while starting parenthood. He’d even postponed production for six weeks after Max was born, almost losing his star. Jessica saved that deal, promising to get Matt a meeting with Zymar for
Fifteen Minutes Past Midnight
, if only he’d still do
Sky Man
.

Jessica glanced across the tent at Lydia working the room. She was the uber-everything right now. Worldwide’s box office, overall, had never been better. Jess didn’t know how Lydia juggled it all—producing, president of production for Worldwide, Zymar. But she did, effortlessly and brilliantly. Unmitigated determination and belief in her projects, Jessica knew, drove Lydia forward. Besides, Lydia absolutely loved what she did.

“How we doing?” Mike asked, bending over to tickle Max’s cheek.

“My little vampire is just about finished,” Jess joked, removing her breast from Max’s mouth.

“Oh, there’s Cici!”

“Let me take him for a while,” Mike offered. “You’ve had him all afternoon.”

“Jess!” Celeste sang out, bouncing over to her and wrapping her in a huge hug. “You look beautiful. And look at my perfect little godson,” Cici said, cooing over Max, the second favorite man in her life.

“You, as always, look stunning.”

Celeste’s megastar glow had only been enhanced with three successful films (each more so than the last) and the consistent love of Ted Robinoff.

“Where’s Ted?” Jessica asked.

“Over with Lydia. Discussing their next big film, I’m sure. Have you seen Mary Anne yet? She brought her bookstore man. Sooo sexy. And smart. You know he quoted Whitman to me. I thought I might just die. Those two are perfect for each other.”

Jessica had met Adam, and agreed with Celeste’s analysis that Mary Anne had found her Mr. Right. Adam was smart and bookish, yet sophisticated.

“I hear, although she’s not fessing up, that Max may have a playmate soon,” Celeste said, giving credence to the rumor that Mary Anne’s full face was not from the ten pounds most women gained when in a serious relationship.