Making It, #2

by Christina Ross

  CHAPTER TWO

  WHEN I RETURNED TO Harper’s office at noon, I met Opal—who was as kind as she was polished and lovely. Since she knew that Pepper and her mother would arrive within minutes, she wasted no time in showing me to Harper’s door.

  “Thank you, Opal,” I said to the raven-haired beauty.

  “My pleasure, Ms. Jacobs.”

  When the door clicked shut behind me, I gave Harper a thumbs-up.

  “She’s going to be a good fit, I think,” Harper said.

  “I’m thinking the same thing. Very professional.”

  “Something I never had in you . . .”

  “Hilarious.”

  “Sit,” Harper said, waving a hand at the chair opposite her desk. “Because what you don’t know is that this morning has been rather active . . .”

  “Meaning?” I said as I sat.

  “Apparently, enterprising Pepper took to Instagram this morning and reached out to her millions of followers to start a petition to get her on The Terrible Teens. And in force, her posse of prepubescent robots acted like a gaggle of lemmings and actively signed the petition in droves. While you were gone, I saw the post online—and got ahead of it. I called the show’s creator and producer—whom I happen to know—and told him that Pepper was coming here today to seek representation. He said that he knew about the petition and that if we did sign her, he’d like to meet with Pepper at once because he’d ‘be very interested in what she could bring to the show.’ I said that if we did sign her, I’d be in touch.”

  “What fourteen-year-old even thinks like that?” I said. “I mean, at that age? That was a pretty savvy move on her part.”

  “It might not have been her idea,” Harper said. “In fact, it probably was her father’s idea, because he’s extremely smart and savvy—and he clearly wants this for his daughter. Whatever the case, her social media fame can and would set that show on fire when it comes to the ratings, and the producers know it. Frankly, so do we. There is a lot of money to be made on a trendsetter like Pepper Winters, Julia. I don’t know how she’s going to behave today, but it’s likely best for both of us to be prepared for the worst, because that girl? That girl also knows she’s in a position of power. It’s going to be up to us to handle her—and to sign her—because I see a seven-figure deal for her.”

  “With her following, I see the same.”

  At that moment, a rap came at Harper’s door, signaling that Pepper and Savannah had arrived.

  “Over there,” Harper said, motioning to one of the two sofas that faced each other in the center of the room. “Sit on the left one. I’ll join you there. They’ll sit on the other one. Let’s lock this down.”

  “Who’s taking the lead here?” I asked as I moved over to the sofa.

  “Today we work as a team. We’ll volley back and forth. Go with your gut, use your instincts, because this business is all about instinct. But you already know that, so here we go.”

  She turned to the door.

  “Yes, Opal?”

  The door swung open, but before Opal could announce Pepper or Savannah, Pepper—surprisingly tall for her age, with straight brown hair that was so shiny, it looked as if it had been spun from silk—came into the room with a flourish.

  Mesmerized by her presence and self-confidence, when my gaze swept over her I saw exactly why this girl was considered a style icon among her fans.

  She was wearing a pair of bright red Alexander McQueen skinny cropped suiting pants, a cream-colored Saint Laurent jersey tank top that showed off her full breasts (real? fake? couldn’t be sure yet), and a killer pair of metallic Prada ankle-strap sandals with a jeweled heel. Since she was the queen of YouTube makeup videos, her makeup was on point, fresh, and flawless. I thought that she looked closer to twenty than fourteen, but since when was that new in this city?

  “You,” Pepper said, pointing a finger at Harper, “are a fucking legend. Seriously. A queen. I want you to represent me, because I want it all. I want it now. And I want you to get it for me, starting with a starring role on The Terrible Teens.”

  Behind Pepper, Opal cleared her throat. “Pepper and Savannah Winters, Ms. Carmichael.”

  Pepper turned slowly to her.

  “I think she knows who I am, Oprah. I mean, duh. Everyone knows who I am. And if they don’t? They’re about to.”

  “Pepper,” I heard a woman say behind her. “Don’t be rude.”

  Pepper swung back to Harper. “That would be my mother, whom I understand you already know. Sorry about that. I’ll text you my condolences. What you might not know is that since it’s noon, Mommie Dearest will soon get the shakes if I don’t get a martini in her. Otherwise? She’ll just break out in a sweat, she’ll totally go all pale on us, and this meeting of ours will go belly up before it even gets started. I did, after all, find her crumpled in a ball on the bathroom floor this morning.”

  “My daughter loves to joke,” a tall, statuesque blonde said as she entered the room. Transfixed, I watched her move to her daughter’s side and place a hand on Pepper’s shoulder, which Pepper promptly shrugged off. Savannah Winters was dressed from head to toe in a cream-colored Chanel suit. She was thin, regal, beautiful. A large pair of dark glasses, which she made no effort to remove, covered her eyes. “How are you, Harper? So good to see you.”

  “And you, Savannah,” Harper said. “Who knew that one day we’d be meeting like this? Your daughter is a star. I’m delighted both of you are here. I’d like to introduce my assistant agent, Julia Jacobs.”

  That was my cue, and I stood as two sets of eyes soaked me in before Pepper stepped forward and said, “You’re hot. Love the shoes. Love the hair. Love the body. If I decide to sign with CAA, we’ll work on the makeup.”

  I took that one for the team, walked over to her, and shook her hand.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Pepper. Makeup doesn’t come as easy for me as it does for you, so whatever advice you can give me would be welcomed.”

  “Consider it done and done, Julia,” she said with a snap of her fingers. “I’ll give you a private sesh over a bottle of Dom, which you totally can post on your Instagram. And you know what? Since I’m dying over that skirt you’re wearing right now? I’ll even repost the photo, my peeps will freak, I’ll hashtag the hell out of you, and you’ll get a few million new followers in the process.” She looked around the room. “Now, before we begin, I need to know where the bar is—before my mother passes out from malnutrition, if you know what I mean.”

  “Pepper,” Savannah warned.

  But Pepper was having none of her mother. Instead, she just looked at her. “Dirty or with a twist?” she said. “What are you in the mood for today, Mother?”

  “Well,” Savannah said, pressing a hand to her chest. “I don’t know. I mean, is anyone else going to join me if I imbibe?”

  “Ladies?” Pepper said when she turned to us. “Will you be joining my mother?”

  “Pepper, I can’t have you mixing drinks in my office,” Harper said. “You’re a minor.”

  “What happens in this room stays in this room,” Pepper said without a care in the world. “Oprah’s gone, and now it’s just the four of us. Plus, I make a killer martini—just ask my mother. I’ve been making them for her since I was seven. So! Who wants to make my mother feel less alone in the world . . . ?”

  Harper and I knew better than to exchange even a hint of a glance when she asked that, because it might set Pepper off if she thought we were judging her.

  “I’ll have one, Pepper,” I said. “With a twist of lemon, please.”

  “For the antioxidants, Julia?” she said to me with a smirk and a wink.

  “Something like that!” I said.

  “You know, Julia,” she said. “You’re kind of the shit. I’m digging you and your vibe, despite how you’ve done your eyes, which are a sorry mess.” She shrugged at me. “But again—if things go well here today—I promise that I’ll come to your rescue. Harper? How would you like yo
urs?”

  “I’ll have mine dirty,” Harper said. “But, please, allow me to make the drinks, Pepper. Closed door or not, I can’t have you—”

  “Not happening,” Pepper interrupted. “My mother likes her martinis made a certain way. They need to be just right, don’t they, Mother? Right? Right.” She looked at Harper with a sense of urgency. “The bar, Harper? And don’t worry—I’m not about to have a drink when we’re discussing business, because even if my mother is here with me today, one of us needs to be sober. As for me? I’ll be having water.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Harper motioned across the room. “The bar is just over there, darling. Fully stocked. Ready for your brilliance. Do let me know if you need anything, and I’ll have Opal fetch it for you.”

  “Opal?” Pepper said as she walked toward the bar. “I thought her name was Oprah.”

  “Easy mistake,” I said.

  “Savannah, while Pepper makes our cocktails, would you like to sit down?” Harper asked.

  “I’d love to sit down, Harper. Pepper has been so excited about taking over the world, her energy has left me spent.”

  “Is that what it is?” Pepper asked as I heard ice and liquid slam against one another in a shaker. When Savannah didn’t answer, Pepper just rolled her eyes and continued to shake. As I watched her mix our drinks, I quickly saw that she was indeed a pro. When she’d finished, she placed the three martinis on a silver tray, added a glass of bubbling mineral water for herself, then walked over to us, offering us our drinks before she placed the tray on the coffee table that separated us.

  “To me,” Pepper said as she held her glass of water high in the air. “Here’s to me achieving my next level of fame, money, and power!”

  “Hear, hear!” Harper and I said at once, as the three of us touched glasses. Savannah, on the other hand, didn’t join us. Instead, she dived lips first into her pail of vodka and nearly sucked it half-dry.

  “So!” Harper said. “Pepper, I saw your Instagram post this morning, and I have to say, well done, my dear. Nicely played. Because here’s something you don’t know that’s happened since I saw your post.”

  “What’s that?” she asked while she took a sip of her water.

  “I happen to know the showrunner of The Terrible Teens. When I saw your fans signing the petition for you to be on the show, I called him at once, we talked, and he’d like to meet with you immediately.”

  “Obvi,” Pepper said, cocking her head. “Everyone in this room knows what I could bring to that show. You want a bitch? Please—I make bitch look pretty. When does he want to meet with me? Today? Because I’m totes down for today.”

  “Before we go there, we need to discuss the terms of signing you to CAA,” Harper said.

  “Fine,” she said with a toss of her pretty hair. “Let’s discuss them.”

  “Julia?” Harper said.

  I laid out the terms of CAA’s contract, and when I finished, Pepper paused for a minute before she looked at me.

  “So, let me get this straight. After all the work I’ve done on my own to build up my social media following, you want fifteen percent of what I’ll earn going forward? Is that how this rolls? Because that sounds like you’re taking advantage of me.”

  “We have no plans to take advantage of you,” I said. “You’ve done a terrific job on your own to become the star that you are. But to take your career to the next level? You came to us for a reason, Pepper, and that reason is to build on what you’ve achieved, through our contacts and negotiating skills.”

  “Julia, no offense, but I came here to sign with an industry legend—Harper Carmichael, which so isn’t you. I’ve never even heard of you. What am I really getting here?”

  “Both of us,” Harper interjected. “Pepper, I can promise you that Julia is a pro. For the past six years, she’s learned at my side. I trust her, but I have a large stable of clients. Julia is my assistant agent for a reason. She’s worked side-by-side with me on all my highest-profile clients. My other clients adore her and value her insights.”

  “But I thought that when my father called your boss, Harper, that I’d only be working with you . . . ?”

  And then Harper leaned in . . .

  “Pepper, you will personally benefit from all of the contacts I’ve made in this industry over my many years at CAA,” she said. “Today, with a mere phone call, I’ve already set things into motion to potentially get you on The Terrible Teens. But since I’m at the point where I can’t do it all, Julia must be the one who handles any final negotiations, as well as the day-to-day operations of your career. That said, she and I will collaborate with you on new projects to make certain that your career continues to flourish and expand.”

  “I don’t know,” Pepper said with a glum sip of her water.

  “Pepper, if you want to be on The Terrible Teens, you need to act today,” I said. “If the show’s creator is going to sign you, he needs to do so ASAP so he can get his producers and writers in line to figure out story arcs. Right now, they only have a week to make it happen. Having you come on board will shake up everything.”

  “Like I care if they have to work hard,” Pepper said. “Because what they’d be getting by signing me is nothing short of a gift, and everyone in this room knows it. The moment they announce that I’ll be starring in season two, it’s going to be anticipation like salivation. My tribe is going to go wild. And because of that, advertisers are going to be like . . . what? So, trust me when I say this. As much as I want to be on that show, I also know how much I’m worth. They’re going to have to pay me plenty before I agree to sign with them, and if Julia is going to be handling the negotiations, she needs to know that. Given my social media footprint alone—which has a high market value attached to it, particularly since I’ll agree to document the entire season for my millions of fans on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook—I won’t make the deal for less than seven figures.”

  “Julia and I have already talked about that, and we agree with you, Pepper,” Harper said. “We think seven figures is a done deal. But we also agree that to get this done, we need to move on it now. The only one holding this up is you. As for any concerns about Julia, I need you to look at her as an extension of me, because she’s learned directly from me. By going with us, you are getting two for one, which I doubt you’d get anywhere else.”

  Pepper sat on that for a moment before she came at us with something else.

  “Harper, given the success of my YouTube makeup channel alone, at some point I’m going to want my own beauty line,” she said. “And also, a fragrance called Winter. Can you and Julia make that happen for me? Because I need you to.”

  “Julia and I have made beauty lines happen for a number of clients.”

  “Like who?”

  “Well, let’s see,” Harper said. “There’s Rihanna, Cindy Crawford, Iman, Salma Hayek, Heidi Klum, and Victoria Beckham. As for fragrances, we’ve assisted J.Lo, Britney, Mariah, Beyoncé, and Rihanna again.”

  “You represent all of them?” she said in disbelief.

  “Just for their beauty lines and fragrances. I’m kind of the go-to agent when it comes to that industry. I have the contacts. I made it happen for them. And as we map out your career, I feel certain that we can do the same for you.”

  “What do you think, Mother?” Pepper asked after Savannah tossed back the rest of her martini.

  “I think it sounds fabulous, darling. You know your father wouldn’t have sent you here without good reason. He personally made this meeting happen for you because he wants you here at CAA. What Harper and Julia have laid out sounds exciting. But let’s get real here—if you ever become unhappy with them, you can always fire them on the spot. You know that, so why are you even hesitating? I say that you go for this, especially since Harper has already lined up a meeting with the people who run that silly television show you’re dying to be on. I mean, come on, Pepper. We are talking about Harper Carmichael here, who has the kind of contacts you
need in your life if you want to be on television and eventually expand into merchandising. And after listening to Julia? I sense that she’s smart and has a spark that’s been ignited by working with Harper. I think you’re sitting in front of your dream team, but what the hell do I know?” She held out her hands and admired her red fingernails. “My only accomplishment is that I managed to marry a billionaire . . .”

  Oh, snap! I thought. Good for you, Savannah!

  “OK,” Pepper said as she turned to us. “I’m in. Where do I sign? Because I know that time is running out when it comes to The Terrible Teens. Somehow, we need to lock this down before it’s too late.”

  “I’ll set up a meeting for this afternoon,” Harper said. “Julia will take you to meet the showrunner, Hunter Steele, as well as the cast and crew. If they decide they want you, Julia will handle the negotiations on her own, with guidance from me should she need it, which I doubt.”

  I felt a jolt of nerves shoot up my spine and settle into my stomach when she said that.

  This is really happening, I thought. I can’t screw this up . . .

  “On her own?” Pepper said. “Why? Harper, I need you to be there when it comes to the negotiations!”

  “That’s not how this business works,” Harper said. “You’re a savvy young woman, Pepper, and I sense that you already know that you cannot be there for the negotiations. If you sign with us today, I can get you the audition you want. But that’s all it’s going to be, my dear—an audition. You’ll leave once it’s over, and if Julia is asked to stay, she’ll act alone on your behalf. Why? Because negotiations can become ugly and heated in ways that have nothing to do with you. No agent needs a client to distract them when they’re about to cut off someone’s balls if the offer isn’t right.”