Take Two (21 page)

The others in the room chuckled at her excitement.

“Hey!” Stephanie spun around and pointed at Brandon. “Don’t laugh at me!” She was teasing him, enjoying the moment. “Tell
me you didn’t get tears all backed up in those beautiful eyes of yours!”

“Okay, okay.” Brandon breathed in deeply through his nose. “You’re right. It was good.”

“I was crying like a baby.” Luke tossed his hands and grabbed a tissue.

The sight of their attorney acting as emotional as Stephanie made them laugh and added to the feeling of celebration. Chase
listened to the exchange and prayed he wouldn’t wake up, prayed he was really hearing this sort of feedback and not lost in
the middle of a dream. Keith popped him on the shoulder and grinned. It wasn’t a dream. The people gathered in Kendall’s screening
room loved
The Last Letter
.

“It’s everything I knew it would be.” Kendall stood and flipped on a light. “What do you think, Dad?”

“Amazing.” He pulled himself to his feet and gave first Keith, then Chase a hearty handshake. “You’ve got my support. Like
I said, I’ll fund the P&A for a theatrical release on this film, and I’m good for half the money on
Unlocked
.”

Chase couldn’t breathe. He pressed his leg against the sofa behind him so he wouldn’t fall to the floor. The P&A budget was
five million dollars, and though Ben had hinted about footing the cost, this was an actual promise. Chase had the feeling
he was going to whip out a legal document over chips and salsa later that night. Sure, they still needed to convince the studio
executives that
The Last Letter
was worth the financial risk for a theatrical release. But with this sort of reaction, Chase suddenly wasn’t worried.

But more than that, Ben’s offer to fund half the Brandon Paul movie meant two things. First, they were ready to talk to a
studio about the project. And second, they could retain creative control — since providing half the budget would give them
that privilege.

Chase could hear people talking around him, but all he could think about was Kelly, how she’d doubted whether they could make
movies at this level, at the Brandon Paul level. And how God had proved to all of them that they could.

They moved into the kitchen and then on to the formal dining room, where a housekeeper had set the table with a Mexican dinner.
Once they were seated and the food served, Chase and Keith talked at length with the others. Luke Baxter was showing himself
to be a skilled professional, an up-and-coming legend in entertainment law. He had already drawn up paperwork for the financials.

“I understand you’re available tomorrow also?” Ben took three
taquitos
from the closest platter. “We need something in writing to add to the investment money I’ve already put in for
The Last Letter
, and of course we need to spell out our deal with Brandon.”

“Absolutely.” Luke was quick to answer. “I’m in town all week.”

Brandon set his fork down. “My agent and attorney want to be in on that. I think we’re meeting Friday.” He scooped a blob
of avocado dip onto his plate. “My agent’s going to want a polished screenplay before we commit to anything with a studio.”

So many pieces to the puzzle. Chase felt dizzy, and not the least bit hungry even as everyone around him dove into their meals.
The conversation didn’t turn back to movies again until after dinner.

“Brandon.” Kendall was sitting on Chase’s other side. “Why don’t you tell the producers your story. The one most people don’t
know.”

Chase was dying to know more about the kid. They were about to invest millions of dollars into the guy — that and their futures
as filmmakers. He and Keith knew little about the actor, only what was common knowledge in the magazines. Brandon was twenty-two,
but he could convincingly play a high school kid. He’d come onto the scene as part of an NTM series about a high school jock
who was really the son of a European king.
Prince Jake
was the series, and it had blown away the expectations of NTM. Prince Jake’s image was on everything from pop cans to pizza
boxes, T-shirts to bath towels. Brandon Paul could sing, dance, and act, and he was a teen heartthrob like the country hadn’t
seen in three decades. The only black mark was Brandon’s younger sister, Paisley, who was also in show business but who had
occasional drug trouble, according to the tabloids. But Chase had never found out more than that.

Brandon’s eyes revealed little emotion. He was comfortable with this story, but clearly he didn’t enjoy telling it. “My parents
don’t agree with my acting career. They homeschooled us and hoped that my sister and I would attend Harvard, get doctorate
degrees, and find a cure for cancer. I call and tell them how things are going, but they don’t watch my stuff, and they don’t
take it seriously.” He gave a single shrug. “It is what it is.”

“Tell them about your sister.” Kendall’s tone was soft.

“Right.” He exhaled slowly. “We used to be very close. My parents didn’t approve of our acting, but at least we had each other.
But that wasn’t enough for Paisley. She wanted my parents’ acceptance so badly.” He exhaled and stared at his lap for a long
minute. When he looked up, the pain was there for all of them to see. “She’s a drug user. Heroin. She’ll surface for a few
months, stay clean, and get a commercial or an extra role in a movie. But then she’s gone again. Living on the streets, sharing
needles with strangers. She goes by a different last name. The press doesn’t know the half of it.”

Chase’s heart broke for the guy, and all he and his sister had lost because of their parents’ narrow-minded attitude.

Brandon squinted as if he could keep out some of the pain. “Funny how people think money’s the answer. I’ll never live long
enough to spend mine, but it can’t help Paisley. Not until she wants the help. Every job, every day I’m on set, I feel like
I’m living for both of us. Like I owe it to her.”

Chase thought for a moment. In some ways Brandon’s story reminded him of Dayne Matthews. A young guy without the support of
his parents. The only difference was that Dayne’s adoptive parents had been killed when he was eighteen in a single-engine
plane crash. Still, the two actors would have common ground. Brandon might really benefit from the strength and faith of someone
like Dayne.

Kendall was explaining that Brandon wasn’t actually a Christian. “Not yet, anyway.” She patted Brandon’s hand. “I’m working
on him.”

“I’m open. It’s just …” His eyes grew distant. “I’m not quite sure God believes in me. You know?”

There was a general sense of acknowledgment about how Brandon felt, and Keith admitted that he had been through a time like
that during his final years of high school. “I’d been taught about God all my life, but those few years, I wasn’t sure what
I believed.”

“Exactly.” Brandon gave a slow nod. “I guess you could say I’m searching.”

“For now.” Kendall’s smile toward Brandon was kind and full of warmth.

“Yes.” He chuckled. “For now.”

Keith took over the conversation, engaging both Brandon and Ben about the themes of
Unlocked
and how they would play out on the screen. But before the talk could get too serious, too focused, Ben stood and smiled at
the group. “You know what we need?”

Chase had no idea.

“A good old-fashioned ping-pong tournament.” He grinned at Kendall. “My daughter’s just about unbeatable. And I find nothing
gets the imagination going better than a few rounds of table tennis.”

They all laughed, and Chase and Keith joined the others on a walk out back and down a sidewalk to an outbuilding — this one
holding two ping-pong tables and a half a dozen sofas anchored to the perimeter of the room. “It used to be a storage place
for my father’s boats.” Kendall smiled as they went inside. “A few years ago we turned it into a ping-pong room.”

Chase had never seen anything like it. A dry-erase board hung on the wall near the closest table, and scribbled across it
was a tally sheet of some kind. Kendall laughed again. “My dad’s pretty competitive. We keep track of the games we play in
a year.”

“Because one of these years I’m gonna beat her, by golly.” Ben searched a shelf near the entrance to the room and grabbed
a red paddle. “This is my baby. I call it The Blade.”

Chase loved this. Who would’ve thought that movie people at this level would spend their evenings playing ping-pong?

Stephanie grabbed a paddle similar to Ben’s. “I’m not so bad myself.” She twirled the paddle in her hand and aimed it at Kendall.
“Let’s see who’s queen of this palace.”

“We’ll sit out the first round.” Keith nodded at Chase and the two of them took the nearest sofa. “So we can size up the competition.”

That left Kendall and Stephanie on one table and Ben and Brandon on the other. Kendall seemed to go easy on Stephanie, and
halfway through the game, the author was up by two points. But then it was like Kendall found another gear. She began using
a spin-type serve and slamming the ball instead of returning it.

“Oooh, girlfriend’s got game.” Stephanie raised her hands and did a little victory dance on behalf of Kendall’s play. “I don’t
mind losing to someone with skill, no, sir.”

On the other table, Ben was giving Brandon a fight. But youth had its advantage, and the game was leaning hard in Brandon’s
favor. Chase liked Brandon’s style — all offense and risk. It was the way they’d been forced to play the game of movie-making.

But even still, he kept finding his attention turning to Kendall. She laughed as easily as she breathed, and besides being
a skilled player she had an infectious confidence about her. As if she never really doubted the fact that she’d win the game,
any more than she doubted the fact that the movies she wanted to make with Chase and Keith would be successful beyond their
wildest dreams.

If only Kelly could be like that, Lord — confident and convinced. Believing in the work we have ahead of us.

As soon as the thought passed through his mind, Chase roped it back and chastised himself. He couldn’t compare Kendall and
Kelly, not now or ever. Kendall had been born into the world of wealth and movies, so of course she was calmer about the risks
ahead, more certain. Kelly knew only that they’d run up their credit cards and borrowed money they couldn’t afford to repay
to help fund
The Last Letter
. She was alone with the girls too often, and she wasn’t happy about it. That much was obvious from the strain between them.

If they were going to work with Kendall and her father, Chase couldn’t for one minute nurture a growing interest in anything
about Kendall. Period.

Keith worked in on the next round, taking on Brandon, while Ben matched up against Stephanie. That left Chase and Kendall.

“I’m thirsty.” She motioned for Chase to follow her. “Help me bring in a flat of water bottles.”

Once they were outside, Kendall’s pace slowed. Her eyes danced in the moonlight as she looked at him. “You’re the real deal,
Chase Ryan. I admire you.”

He tried not to feel overly flattered. “Why?”

“Because.” Their conversation was easy, comfortable. “Your ambitions and dreams, your mission for making movies that will
change lives.” She breathed in slowly and gazed at the stars overhead. “It’s all going to happen. I’ve prayed about this for
a long time, and I can feel it.”

Chase tried not to focus on her pretty face, her confidence. For a moment he looked straight ahead toward the house. But then
his eyes met hers again. “Sometimes it’s hard to believe.”

“Well, believe it.” Her smile worked its way through him. “One day soon all of Hollywood will want a part of this, of what
you and Keith are starting right here.”

Their pace slowed almost to a standstill. Chase had been curious about her, but there’d never been a time to ask until now.
“What about you, Miss Kendall? What drives you to be a part of all this?”

She thought for a second, her long blonde hair blowing gently in the night breeze. “Redemption, I guess. I’ve seen a lot of
heartache in this town.” Her smile was laced with sorrow, an expression that seemed to hold more than she was willing to reveal.
“I want my days in this business to matter, I guess. Just like you.”

They reached the house, and Kendall punched in a code near the third garage door, causing it to open. She moved toward a stack
of water pallets. Chase tried to reach it before her, so she wouldn’t think about carrying it. But as he bent to take hold
of the top box, his right hand touched hers.

“I’ve … I’ve got it.”

“I can help.” She looked at him, locked eyes, and for the flicker of an instant Chase felt it. An attraction between them
that terrified him. He adjusted his grip on the box and heaved it into his arms. “Don’t be silly.”

Kendall seemed to try to hide her alarm, but it was there. She moved quickly back to the open garage door. “Thanks. I … didn’t
mean for you to carry it by yourself.”

The walk back to the rec building passed much quicker. They talked about ping-pong and her father’s determination to beat
her. But not once then or at any time during the rest of the night did he see the vulnerability she’d revealed to him on their
earlier walk.

When they were finished playing and after they’d all downed a number of water bottles, they went outside and looked at the
lights from the Hollywood Hills. Chase stood next to Keith, but Kendall had positioned herself on his other side — some distance
away. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

“Mmmm. Yes.” Chase looked from her to his friend. He wanted to ask Kendall more about her earlier comments, about all she’d
seen in Hollywood. But this wasn’t the place. “What do you think, Keith? Beautiful up here, huh?”

“Definitely. The perfect Hollywood home.”

After a few minutes, Brandon and Stephanie announced that they had to get going.

“Well, then …” Ben held his arms out. “Let’s pray.” He waited while the others circled up around him.

By the time Chase realized who he was standing next to and what was about to happen, it was too late. He kept his gaze away
from Kendall’s as they linked hands, and once more he tried not to think about the way her fingers felt against his.