by Lisa Jackson
“Goodbye,” Maren whispered as she heard him sever the fragile connection. A dull pain twisted in her heart. She set down the phone and leaned back into the pillow. What had she expected, anyway? Maren knew that Kyle’s primary interest in her was Festival Productions; he’d admitted as much. She also realized that he was attracted to her and probably, in his own sophisticated way, cared for her. But the love she felt for him could never possibly be returned. It just wasn’t possible, no matter how desperately she wanted to believe that he loved her. “No sense in deluding yourself,” she mumbled miserably as she tossed back the covers and compressed her lips into a line of disgust. Knowing that falling back to sleep was completely out of the question, Maren reached for her robe and decided to go into the office early. There were still a few details she had to straighten out on the first Mirage video, and she wanted everything in perfect order when she met with Kyle later in the day.
THE PARKING LOT was usually empty. This morning was an exception. The warm morning sunlight reflected brightly off the sleek imported sports car parked in front of the building housing Festival Productions.
Maren parked her car and approached the building. As she neared the silver import, Jacob Green extracted himself from the vehicle. He was a slim man of medium build with perfectly combed sandy-colored hair and an equally manicured smile. Maren knew that Jake had to be pushing fifty, but he managed to keep himself fit and looked a good ten years younger than his age.
“Hi Maren,” Jacob greeted, falling into stride with her as she headed up the concrete steps.
Maren forced an uneasy smile onto her face. “Good morning.” After unlocking the glass door, Maren stepped inside the building. Jacob Green was quick to follow her, and Maren felt an uneasy sensation take hold of her.
“If you’re looking for Jan,” Maren said, picking up the newspaper that had been forced through the mail slot near the door, “she’s not here yet.” Certainly Jacob knew of Jan’s whereabouts, Maren thought; Jan was living with him.
“Actually,” Jacob replied smoothly, “I wanted to see you.”
“Oh?” Maren lifted her eyes from the front page of the Los Angeles Times, and started up the stairs. “What’s up?”
“I thought you and I could discuss our contract on Festival,” Jake suggested.
Maren was instantly wary, and her back stiffened. “Is there a problem?”
“Not yet.” His words were cryptic, and they made her uneasy. It took every ounce of civility within her to hang on to her poise.
“Good. Why don’t you wait for me in my office,” Maren suggested as she mounted the stairs. Jacob was only a couple of steps behind her, and she had the uncanny feeling that he was eyeing her hips as she climbed the stairs. “I’ll get us each a cup of coffee.”
“Great!” They reached the second floor and Jake started toward Maren’s office. “Don’t forget the sugar.” He disappeared into the other room.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Maren mumbled to herself. There was just something about the man that made her anxious and unnerved. It didn’t help matters to know how unhappy Jan had been recently. Jan had never mentioned telling Jacob about the baby, and Maren had never pried. It was evident that something was eating at the poor girl, but the one time Maren had commented on that fact, Jan had told her nicely but firmly that it was really none of her concern. Rebuffed and slightly embarrassed, Maren hadn’t mentioned the situation again.
“Here you go,” Maren announced, setting a cup of coffee along with several sugar cubes next to Jake’s chair. “Now tell me, what is it you want to discuss?”
Maren took a seat behind the desk, feeling more comfortable with the large piece of furniture separating her from Jacob. The barrier, however frail, gave her some sense of strength. Jacob stirred his sugar into his coffee and took a long swallow. When he looked up at Maren he hoped his smile seemed sincere.
“You always could make a great cup of coffee,” he stated with a slippery grin.
“And you’ve been known to beat around the bush. I’m really very busy today, Jake. In fact, I’ve got a nine-o’clock appointment. So why don’t you tell me what it is that’s bothering you about the contract?”
“It’s no big deal, really,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. Maren could tell by the way he avoided meeting her gaze that he was lying. Whatever it was, it was very important to Jacob Green. Something was up. Something big. “I was hoping that you could make the May and June payments on the fifteenth.”
Maren regarded him silently for a moment. She would like nothing better than to pay him his money and send him packing. Dealing with him had always been difficult. Her blue eyes narrowed as she considered the possibilities. Finally she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Jake, but I just can’t swing it. If I remember correctly, the June payment escalates by another thousand dollars. There’s just no way I can stretch my budget right now, at least not until I get some cash from the April billings, and they just went out.”
Jacob’s friendly smile faded, and he set his cup on the table. “Can’t you work something out, Maren? I’m really strapped right now.” He stood from the chair and pushed his hands into his back pockets as he faced her.
Maren managed to conceal her surprise. She had always assumed that Jacob was well-heeled. Not only had he received a large amount of cash when she had purchased Festival, but she paid him monthly on the contract. The last she had heard he was working at Sentinel Studios. Where could his money be going?
“I just can’t handle a larger payment this month.”
Jacob’s eyes traveled around the room, noting the few but expensive pieces of furniture. From what he could discern, Maren’s operation was doing well—very well—and the gossip in the industry indicated that her services as a producer of videotapes were in considerable demand. He changed his tactics.
“Jan tells me you might be selling the business.”
The hackles on Maren’s neck rose. She had expected her secretary to hold her tongue. But that might not have been possible, considering Jacob’s link to Festival. “That’s right,” Maren conceded unwillingly. “I’m considering the possibility. Nothing more.”
“Jan seemed to think it was all wrapped up.” Once again Jacob took a seat. He felt as if he had unwittingly gained the advantage in the discussion. Lines of worry creased Maren’s normally smooth forehead.
“I’m still thinking about it,” Maren hedged. As far as she was concerned, what she did with Festival Productions was none of Jacob Green’s concern as long as she paid him off.
“You still owe me about eighty thousand dollars,” Green pointed out with a bitter smile.
“I realize that.”
“I just wanted to remind you that the contract is nontransferable. I want my share in cold hard cash.”
“And that’s what you’ll get,” Maren assured him. “If and when I decide to sell.”
“Damn it all, I never thought that videos would take off the way they did,” Green admitted with a trace of disgust. “If I had, you can bet I never would have sold this operation to you!”
“When I bought Festival, you were concentrating mainly on commercials,” Maren observed. “I don’t think you had even thought of doing videos.”
“Yeah, well, maybe that’s true. But you can bet that I would have changed course once I’d figured out how hot those videos would become. They’re a goddamn gold mine!”
“I told you that before you sold the business to me,” Maren pointed out. “You didn’t listen.”
Jacob waved off her words with the back of his hand. “How was I to know they weren’t going to be some overnight flash-in-the-pan fad that was here today and gone tomorrow. Son of a bitch!”
Jan entered Maren’s office, and her dark brown eyes took in the scene before her. Maren was surprised and grateful for Jan’s arrival. “Jacob?” Jan asked uneasily, her thin lips pulling into a tight smile. “What’re you doing here?” Her liquid brown eyes accused Jacob of something Maren could
n’t understand. It was probably another lovers’ quarrel and none of Maren’s business, she decided, trying to find an excuse to leave the two of them alone.
Jacob was immediately defensive. “I was just havin’ a chat with Maren, babe,” Jake replied with an uncomfortable grin. He rubbed the back of his neck after setting his coffee cup aside. “You know,” he cajoled, seeing Jan’s obvious distress, “it’s about that time again. The rent’s due, so to speak.” A flush of scarlet crawled up Jan’s neck, disguising her wan pallor.
Trying to pull herself together, Jan ignored Jacob for the moment and looked toward Maren. “Joey Righteous will be here at nine,” she reminded her employer as she crossed the room and placed a stack of neatly typed letters on the corner of Maren’s desk.
“Should I have my attorney present?” Maren joked, and Jan forced a laugh despite the disturbing situation. Jacob looked from one woman to the other, not completely understanding the private joke.
“I don’t think it will be necessary today,” Jan said, relaxing slightly.
“Good.” In an effort to get rid of Jacob Green, Maren pulled the checkbook from her file cabinet and wrote a check for the May fifteenth contract payment. Jacob took the check and stuffed it into his wallet while Jan effectively ushered him out of Maren’s office.
Angry portions of the argument between Jan and Jacob filtered through the closed door. Though Maren switched on the tape player and concentrated on the third song to be released from the Mirage album, she couldn’t shake the feeling of concern overtaking her. Maren cared for Jan, and it was apparent that the secretary was very unhappy. Something wasn’t right between Jan and Jacob, and Maren suspected it was more than just the pregnancy. Jan hadn’t been herself lately. She was nervous and jittery. Perhaps it was because of the pregnancy, but Maren doubted it. Maren had never known Jan to attack anyone; she was a reserved girl who usually kept her opinions to herself. But the other day, without provocation, Jan had verbally assaulted Kyle. It was unusual. Obviously Jan was under a tremendous amount of pressure from Jake.
Maren’s musings were cut short when Joey Righteous burst into the room. He was sporting a black leather jacket, dark sunglasses and tight-fitting red leather pants. He looked the part of an overnight R & B sensation. “Hey, Mama, what’s happenin’?” he asked as he sprawled into one of the chairs. His charming smile spread evenly across his dark skin, exposing perfect white teeth.
Maren returned the smile. Despite his infamous hot temper, Joey Righteous boasted a certain charisma that couldn’t be denied. “Save the ‘bad, black and beautiful’ routine for someone who’ll buy it,” she returned with a knowing laugh. “You might be able to convince the record-buying public that you’re just a poor ghetto kid from the streets of Chicago, but I know for a fact that you graduated from Stanford.”
Joey exaggerated his cringe and put his finger to his lips. “No more of that talk,” he whispered. “You’ll destroy the image.”
“Impossible.” She eyed the gaudy outfit and grinned in amusement. “No one would ever believe that you graduated with honors in math.”
“Shame on you,” Joey accosted, lifting his dark glasses and giving Maren a glimpse of his sparkling black eyes. “You been checkin’ up on me.”
“Just doing my homework—same as you.”
Joey, anxious to get down to business, slapped his broad palm on the desk as if to change the subject. “So how’s my video comin’?”
Maren leaned back in her chair. Her blue eyes never left Joey’s dark gaze. “I’m afraid it’s been put on hold for a little while.”
“What?” he shrieked. “What you talkin’ ’bout?” anger sparked in his dark eyes.
“Your contract with Festival hasn’t been signed by Sterling Records.”
“Why not?” he demanded.
“It’s nothing serious,” Maren said, holding up her palms as if physically attempting to soothe him.
“Oh, yeah? Tell me about it!”
“I’m taking your contract with me today. I have a meeting with Kyle Sterling. I’m sure he’ll sign the contract, and we can proceed with the video. Then I expect there will be no further delay.”
“Sounds like double-talk to me,” Joey complained. “Or honkie bull…”
“Not from me, Joey. We’ve done business for a couple of years now, and we haven’t had a problem, have we?” She didn’t wait for his reply. “I promised you that the video would be completed before your tour of Japan. I’m sure Sterling Records will agree.”
“You ain’t jivin’ me?” Joey asked, unconvinced.
Maren shook her head, keeping her warm smile intact. “No, but if I do have a problem with Sterling, which I don’t anticipate, I’ll let you know immediately. What do ya say?”
Joey frowned pensively, and his head bounced to an angry beat. “I don’t know.”
Maren pushed away from the desk, stood and walked over to her long cabinets. Bending on one knee, she pulled open a drawer and extracted her sketches. She handed them to Joey. “Here are the storyboards for ‘Restless Feelin’.’” Joey balanced his sunglasses on the top of his head as he studied the drawings. “What do you think?” Maren asked when Joey raised his head.
“You sure know your business,” he admitted with a low whistle.
“I try.”
Plopping his shades back onto his nose, he rose from the chair and towered over Maren. “What’s this I hear about bootlegged videos?”
Maren’s smile froze. “What do you mean?”
“Didn’t Festival have trouble a while back?”
“There was a problem. It’s been corrected.”
“I hope so,” Joey whispered. His dark face seemed suddenly threatening. “I wouldn’t like it if my video was pirated.”
“Neither would I.”
Rubbing his chin, Joey smiled again. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t. Hey, now, you’ll call me if the record company gives you any trouble ’bout signin’ that contract?”
“As soon as I find out,” Maren assured him.
With his lower lip protruding speculatively, Joey seemed at least partially mollified. “Okay, Mama. I be expectin’ your call.” He sauntered out of the room with a disjointed stride that promised the rhythm and soul of his popular songs.
Maren walked with him to the door and accepted his palm along with his collusive wink. When Joey was gone, Jan turned from her typewriter, her worried eyes accosting Maren. “Trouble?” she guessed.
“Not much,” Maren replied, hiding her concern over Joey’s remarks about the video pirating. Within the last few weeks, the subject of pirated videos kept haunting her. Maren tried to shake off her unease and answer Jan’s probing gaze. “Joey was pretty laid-back…for Joey, that is.”
“Telling me that Joey is ‘laid-back’ is like saying a hurricane is a gentle breeze.” Maren laughed and Jan released a troubled sigh. Her serious eyes clouded unhappily. “I should apologize for Jacob’s behavior,” she said, reaching for her cigarettes.
Maren waved off Jan’s attempts at amends. “Don’t worry about it, Jacob and I have business together. It wasn’t a big deal”
As Jan lit the cigarette, Maren noticed that the blonde’s hands were shaking. “I told you he’s changed,” Jan reaffirmed, inhaling deeply on the cigarette and leaning back in the chair to blow the smoke toward the ceiling. “I don’t understand him sometimes.”
“We all need a little extra cash now and again,” Maren observed, not knowing how to console Jan. “I know that as well as anyone.”
“I suppose,” Jan agreed reluctantly and closed her eyes. “I finally told him about the baby.” She turned to face Maren.
“And?”
“Nothing.” Jan shook her head, as if to clear the cobwebs of mistrust. “He didn’t say anything. He just stood there and looked at me as if I’d completely lost my mind. I know this sounds crazy, but I think it would have been better if he had gotten angry.”
Maren disagreed but kept her thoughts to herse
lf. She’d been on the receiving end of Jacob Green’s vehement anger once in the past. It had happened when a take for a commercial had to be scrapped and reshot. Jacob had been so angry that he had thrown his paperweight through the glass door of the building. “Maybe the prospect of becoming a father again came as a shock,” she suggested.
Jan leaned her chin into her hand. The cigarette was poised near her cheek, and smoke curled lazily up to the rafters as she considered Maren’s words. “It was more than a shock, I’d say, but at least he didn’t try and talk me into an abortion…not yet, anyway.”
Maren was sickened at the thought. “Give him a while to get used to the idea of having a baby around,” she suggested. “This might not be easy for him. His other kids are grown.”
Jan sighed and looked away from Maren. “Yeah, well, we’ll see, won’t we?”
“Things have a way of turning out for the best,” Maren predicted, knowing her words sounded lame.
“I hope so,” Jan thought aloud. “God, I hope so.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
LOCATED JUST FIVE BLOCKS north of the famous intersection of Hollywood and Vine stood the Sterling Records Building. The modern structure was smaller than the nearby circular Capitol Records Building, but distinct in its own manner. Rising from the ground like a silver wedge, the three-sided building was a unique architectural triumph constructed of gray concrete slabs and reflective glass.
Maren had visited the building many times but had never ceased to be awestruck by the magnificent edifice. As she walked through the carpeted hallways, she realized that soon, if Kyle had his way, she might have her own office somewhere in the building. She wondered how it would feel to work with Kyle on a day-to-day basis and how it would affect her relationship with him. If she were to agree to the sale, would she lose all the freedom and respect for which she had fought so diligently? And what was to prevent Kyle from tossing her out, should he become unhappy with her? A simple clause in a contract was little consolation. Sterling Recording Company had lawyers and capital at their disposal that Maren couldn’t begin to match. Once Festival Productions was his, Kyle could do just about anything he pleased with it.
