by Tripp Ellis
"That temporary apartment your agent set her up with costs an arm and a leg. Oakmont, or whatever the hell it's called?"
"It's a nice place. It's furnished. A lot of the celebrities stay there from time to time."
"For the price I'm paying, it better be the Taj Mahal."
JD's phone dinged with a text, and the screen lit up. He snatched it from the tabletop and grinned as he read the message. "Well, dreams really do come true."
He finished his beer, stood up, and gave me a salute as he strolled across the gangway.
I stayed in the cockpit for a moment, watching the sunset. Then I went into the salon, found Buddy and leashed him up. I took the little Jack Russell for some much needed exercise. Afterwards, I stopped in Diver Down and took a seat at the bar. Harlan was in his usual seat. The old Marine had been there all day. It was a Sunday night, and the crowd was pretty thin—mostly regulars.
Madison was behind the bar wearing a tank top and jean shorts—barefoot as usual. She was 10 weeks pregnant and just barely had a bump.
The news anchor, Emma Steele, was on the flatscreen television behind the bar, talking about the death of Warren Russell. "Police are still searching for a suspect that may be connected to the case."
"You any closer to catching that bastard?" Harlan asked.
"We'll get him. Don't worry."
"That kind of thing just chaps my ass," Harlan said.
Harlan was no spring chicken anymore, and I could tell it hit close to home.
"I mean, what the hell is the world coming to? Let that son-of-a-bitch try to mess with me. I'll fill him full of lead!”
I had no doubt that Harlan was packing.
"Hey Maddy, do you think you could look after Buddy and Fluffy for me when I go to Los Angeles?”
"Sure thing. Just bring them by before you leave."
"Thank you."
"What are you going out to Hollyweird for?" Harlan asked.
"Scarlett got an agent. She's going to give the acting thing a go.”
"Tell her I said break a leg. That's what they say, right?"
I smiled. "I'll tell her."
I left the bar and went back to the Vivere. My agent, Joel, called. "Is everything still on for Tuesday?"
"Yep."
"Excellent. How long are you staying in town for?"
"A few days, maybe."
"Good. I've got meetings set up. The studio has a draft of the script for the Bree Taylor story based on your notes. I’ll send a PDF shortly. They want to go over it with you. Also, they want to talk TV series. What time do you get in?"
"About 12:30-ish PM your time."
"Give me a call after you get settled, then maybe you two can swing by the office."
"Will do," I said.
I chilled out for the rest of the evening. Monday was uneventful—still no sign of Porter. Tuesday rolled around, and I caught a cab over to Jack's to pick up Scarlett. I packed a small carry-on case, but Scarlett had two full size bags that were loaded to the gills. They weighed more than a baby rhinoceros. "What the hell do you have in these things?"
She huffed. "Tyson, I'm going for a few months. Maybe indefinitely. This is light."
I helped the cab driver load them into the trunk. He groaned as he shoved them in.
JD stood on the driveway with his eyes misting. He tried to remain stoic. Scarlett gave him a hug, and he held onto her for a moment. "You be good out there. Make us proud."
"I will. I love you, Dad."
It was a rare admission from Scarlett, and it almost sent Jack over the edge. He broke free of the embrace, held his breath, and tried not to turn into a blithering idiot.
We climbed into the backseat of the car, and Jack waved as he watched us drive away.
It was in my contract with the studio that they would always provide a charter and first class accommodations when I had meetings. Flying commercial from Coconut Key could be a nightmare. There were no direct flights, and it was easy to get delayed. With one stop, the quickest flight was 9 hours and change. Flying private, the flight time was estimated at 4 hours 27 minutes.
We made our way to the FBO and boarded the SkyStream X740 jet. Scarlett had never flown on a private plane before, and she was giddy with excitement. The jet was elegantly appointed. Plush leather seats, mahogany trim, flatscreen displays, stocked bar, and an attentive staff.
The captain greeted us with a smile. “Welcome aboard. I'm Captain Williams. We should have a smooth flight. I don't expect much turbulence. I'll have you to Los Angeles in no time. Sit back and enjoy the flight. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask.”
He disappeared into the cockpit, and we slid into the luxurious seats. The smell of fresh leather filled the cabin.
"Jeez, Tyson. You must be somebody," Scarlett exclaimed.
“Perks of doing business with the studio.”
Scarlett had stars in her eyes. They glimmered as she soaked in the experience. “One day, they’ll be giving me perks.”
“I have no doubt.”
12
We landed at the private terminal at the Burbank airport. The same limo driver that had chauffeured me around last time waited with a sign. I recognized him instantly. I smiled and shook his hand. “Zaven, right?”
“Yes, sir. Welcome back.”
I introduced him to Scarlett, and we followed Zaven to ground transportation. He zipped us over to the Oakmont Apartments in Toluca Lake. The complex was older, but it was still one of the most popular temporary housing facilities in LA. We checked-in at the main office, and Sally greeted us with a smile. "I've got your unit all ready. If you’ll give me just a moment, I'll get the paperwork for you to sign, then I'll take you over to the unit.
She returned shortly with a manila folder that contained a lease agreement. Scarlett signed on the dotted line, and Sally gave her a copy.
"No pets, right?" Sally asked.
"Right," Scarlett replied.
"The first and last month’s rent has already been paid, along with the security deposit. You'll get the deposit back upon final inspection after move out."
She led us out of the office to a large golf cart. Zaven followed in the limo as Sally whisked us across the complex.
The sky was clear, and the temperature was 72°. It was a typical Southern California day.
"Each building has its own pool,” Sally said. “There is a convenience store on site, along with a rental car company. The unit comes fully furnished with kitchen, microwave, cable TV, Internet, and an in-unit washer and dryer. You’ve got a one bedroom with a queen, and there is a pull-down Murphy bed in the living room for guests."
She parked the cart at building C.
I helped Zaven unload the bags.
“I’ve got it, sir.”
He insisted, but it took two trips to get the heavy bags up the steps to unit #212.
"So, are you two like a couple?" Sally asked as we stood at the door.
"No," I said quickly.
Sally opened the door and motioned for us to enter. It was a cozy little apartment, and the balcony offered a nice view of the Hollywood Hills.
Scarlett's wide eyes soaked in her first apartment.
“This is amazing!”
"Are you an actress?" Sally asked, knowing the answer. Everyone in Hollywood that looked like Scarlett was an actress.
"Yes," Scarlett said, excitedly.
"You're conveniently located next to the studios, and we’re not far from Griffith Park," Sally said. "We have lots of actors at the facility. Celebrities too. Sometimes they just like to escape and come here. And we are the number one facility for child actors that come out here during pilot season."
"Pilot season?" Scarlett asked.
"When they film all the new TV pilots that might go on to become TV shows."
"Oh, exciting."
“Here are your apartment keys and the remote to the entry gates. This is a parking permit that you must keep visible in your car if you are parking on the
premises." Sally handed her a welcome packet with information about the property rules, local restaurants, shopping, etc. "Here's my card. Please don't hesitate to call me if you need anything. I hope you enjoy your stay."
With that, Sally left us to our own devices.
Zaven carted the baggage in from the hallway and lugged Scarlett's bags into her bedroom. When he returned to the living room, he said, “Once again, I’m yours for the day. I’ll be waiting in the parking lot when you need me.”
I thanked him, and Zaven pulled the door shut as he left the apartment.
Scarlett strolled around the unit, taking it all in. It smelled like fresh paint and pot-pourri. "This is so cool. Thank you for taking me out here. I think I would have been too scared to come by myself."
"You're welcome."
She slipped into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. It was empty. "We need to go grocery shopping."
“Just order online.”
“Good idea.”
Scarlett dashed to her bags in the bedroom, pulled out a laptop, and returned. She set the computer on the kitchen counter and clacked away at the keys while I called Joel.
His receptionist answered. After a brief hold, Joel came on the line. “Are you here?”
"Yeah, we're getting situated in the apartment now."
"Great. Why don't you swing by the agency around 4 PM? Scarlett can see the office and meet my assistant. Then we can grab happy hour at the Point. It's just a block over. With traffic it should take you 45 minutes to get to Century City from the Valley."
I told Joel we’d see him soon and hung up.
Scarlett suddenly looked panicked. "We're meeting Joel at 4 PM?"
"Yeah, is that a problem?"
"What am I going to wear?"
I shrugged. "Something cute."
Scarlett shook her head. "Nope. Cute is not going to cut it. This is the first time I meeting him in person. I need to look hot!"
"I don't think Joel is susceptible to your charms."
"That means he has an even more discerning eye."
Scarlett rushed into the bedroom and began rummaging through her suitcases. She changed several times over the next 45 minutes, displaying different outfits, wanting my opinion. She looked great in all of them, and I told her so.
"You're not helping," Scarlett grumbled.
"What? They all look fine."
"We're not going for fine. We are going for take your breath away, drop dead gorgeous, that girl is going to be a movie star."
I sighed. "You can't go wrong with a little black dress."
Her eyes lit up. "I have the perfect one."
She slipped back into the bedroom, then emerged a moment later with a dress that looked painted on. It had a low-cut neck, and a high hemline. The stiletto heels accented her toned legs. Her makeup was flawless.
"That's the one!"
"Are you sure you're not just saying that because you're tired of looking at dresses?"
"Would I lie to you?"
“No.” She smiled. "Thank you, Tyson."
She spun around and sauntered back into the bedroom to make some last-minute adjustments, then emerged a moment later, looking like a goddess.
We climbed into the posh limousine and Zaven drove us over the hill, into Hollywood. We cruised down Sunset Boulevard, and Scarlett marveled at the sites.
"It doesn't seem real." She said, gazing out the tinted windows. "I feel like I'm in the middle of a crazy dream and I'm going to wake up back in my bed."
"Let me give you a little piece of advice," I said. "You can't take anything at face value around here. It's all just talk until the check clears. Stay focused, keep striving for your goals, but take it all with a grain of salt."
"That's good advice."
"Don't get caught up in all the bullshit." I had no idea if she would listen to me. "Tomorrow the limousine will be gone. And Jack's only going to pay for that apartment for a few months. This is an opportunity, and you need to make the most of it."
She smiled. "I will. I promise."
Zaven turned down Avenue of the Stars and pulled the limousine around the circular drive to the entryway of the towering glass building that housed Inventive Artists Agency, the most powerful agency in Hollywood.
He parked the vehicle, hopped out, jogged around, and pulled open the door. Scarlett stepped out of the limousine like the movie star she was destined to be. I slid across the leather seats and stepped out behind her.
Zaven told me to call when we were heading back down so he could have the car ready.
Scarlett and I strolled through the glass double doors and greeted the receptionist at the desk. I told her who we were here to see, and she scanned the visitor list. Finding our names, she gave us two visitor badges and pointed to a bank of elevators.
Scarlett’s eyes widened as Chloe-C strolled through the lobby—she was the biggest pop star in the galaxy.
13
Scarlett resisted the urge to ask for Chloe-C’s autograph.
We made our way to the elevator bank and up to Joel's office on the 20th floor. It was the motion picture department. Floor to ceiling glass and sleek furniture decorated the area. Agents squawked on phones, and assistants scurried about in fear for their jobs. Interns hustled paperwork back and forth between offices.
This was where the magic really happened.
The studios may have held the purse strings, but the agents held the real power—access to talent. No Hollywood movie is complete without a blockbuster star. And to get that star, you need to go through the agent.
The agency represented writers, directors, cinematographers, actors, and producers. They put together complete packages—stuffed with all of their own talent—and pitched the studios on a regular basis.
We made our way through the chaos to Joel's office.
"Go right in," the receptionist said. "He's waiting.”
We pushed through the double doors.
Joel greeted us with open arms and a wide smile. "I'm so glad you're finally here!"
He gave Scarlett a big hug.
"It's so nice to finally meet you," Scarlett said. "I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me. This is a great opportunity, and I promise I won't disappoint."
"Well, Tyson speaks very highly of you. I tend to trust my talent when they make recommendations. I take it you had a good flight?"
Scarlett nodded.
"Excellent.” Joel smiled. “Maybe one day you can have your own private jet?"
"That would be nice," Scarlett said.
Joel looked at his watch. "I don't know about you, but I'm ready for a drink. We can catch happy hour at the Point. It's just down the block. Great for people watching."
We left the agency and made a short walk to the old-school Hollywood bar with mahogany walls and an elegant atmosphere. The kind of place where people would smoke cigars and close deals if smoking wasn’t banned. Black and white photos of movie stars from the ‘50s, ‘60s, and ‘70s lined the wall. Numerous agents and clients mixed and mingled, talking about projects, pitching ideas, plotting world domination.
We had gotten access to the inner sanctum of Hollywood powerbrokers. It felt like we were getting a glimpse of the illuminati. I was almost surprised we didn't see people in flowing black robes sacrificing goats.
There was no secret handshake to get in the door, but this was the kind of place that didn't let just anybody in. I'm sure there was a list, and the hostesses were trained to recognize the behind-the-scenes powerbrokers. If you lacked sufficient sway in town, you'd find a very cool reception at the hostess stand, and all the tables would be full.
The hostess looked like she could have been a model. Long dark hair straightened to perfection, high cheekbones, red lips. She sat us at a table not far from the bar, and a waitress stopped by to take our order.
“I’ll have a martini,” Joel said, then pointed at me. “And you’re a whiskey, rocks guy, right?”
I nodded.
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“And you?” Joel asked, pointing to Scarlett.
“Water for me,” Scarlett said.
“Coming right up!” the waitress said. “Would you like any appetizers?”
"Bring us a sampler platter," Joel said.
The Point was connected to a posh hotel that had five star dining. They served Mediterranean-style cuisine with an array of wild-caught seafood. The waitress returned shortly with our drinks, and Joel got down to business.
"So, I've got you enrolled in classes with Easton Carter," Joel said. "He is a very respected acting coach, and there's a six month waiting list to get into class. But… I pulled some strings for you."
Scarlett smiled. "Thank you."
"Pay attention. Do everything he says. And don't skip out on class."
"I'm there. Whatever it takes."
"Good. I'm not going to send you out on any auditions until you're ready. You get one chance to make a first impression, and I'm not ruining either of our reputations. Got it?"
"Got it."
"Some people are quick studies,” Joel said. “Others take years to master the craft."
Scarlett's face went long.
"Don't worry. You're a smart girl. I think you'll be a quick study. But I will keep in touch with Easton, and when he thinks you're ready, we’ll be off to the races."
"Sounds like a plan!" she said with a smile.
"I don't know what your financial situation is, or if you need to get a job in the meantime, but stay out of trouble. It's really easy to fall in with the fast crowd around here, and the next thing you know, things are out of control."
"I've already been through my out-of-control phase. This is totally my in control phase."
"Let's hope so," Joel said.
"You can count on me," Scarlett assured.
"And I'm sure if money gets tight, uncle Tyson here can help you out." Joel patted me on the shoulder.
"I can help out for 15% of the gross," I said.
Joel laughed. "A man after my own heart." He turned his attention back to Scarlett. "So, do you have any questions for me?"
Scarlett thought about it for a moment. "What else do I need to be doing to make this thing happen?"
"I'm so glad you asked. Most actors expect me to do all the work. To tell you the truth, the majority of this is all on your shoulders. I make the deals, but I've got to have something to make the deals with. You follow?"
