by Vivien Vale
“Good God, get serious, Todd! You got a major situation and you’re acting like you’re in high school giving me the finger. I’m telling you straight up, this part could mean an Oscar nomination, it’s that good. Besides, you need to be around Hollywood royalty right now. It will help get the stink off you. And Sophia Palmer is Hollywood Royalty.”
The one thing I know is that Jordan has never steered me wrong and he's doing a good job of selling me on this. I’m still on the fence about doing an independent film, but I can feel myself relenting, grudgingly.
I turn toward the screen and damn, I’m still there. That settles the matter. The media is giving me no choice, and I need to distance myself from this hot mess.
“Okay. I’ll do it,” I say, looking up.
“Great.” Jordan claps his hands together, “because production starts in two days.”
4
Sophie
I walk into the boardroom and notice that my entire crew is present, punctual as ever. I smile. It’s good to have reliable people behind you, people who share your passion and commitment for a film.
If there’s one thing I hate, it’s people who don’t give a project one hundred percent, who miss meetings, and who, if they do attend, are disruptive.
So far so good, I think.
Alice smiles brightly, and Eric nods in my direction. Time to get down to business.
Thirty minutes later, it’s time to wrap up.
“So, unless anyone else has a question or wants to add something, that just about wraps it up for today.” I have a definite need for caffeine.
I see heads nodding, mumbling between cameramen. I hear the scraping of chairs being pushed back. Looks like no one has anything to add.
“Thanks, Sophie,” one of the ground crew calls over, giving me the thumbs up sign. In return I give him a short wave.
For me, however, meeting time is not quite over.
“Great work today, Sophie,” Alice pats me on the arm.
I force a smile on my face. My insides are about to explode.
“Remember the steam engine?” her voice is almost a whisper. “I think I can, I think I can, I know I can,” another reassuring rub on the arm. “You’ll blitz it, mark my words.”
With a deep sigh, I slump back in my director chair, a present from my dad.
Briefly, I reflect on Dad. He was my idol. Of course he would never ever have an inkling of self-doubt. But then I’ll never fill his oversized boots anyway.
Dad was the doyen of directors.
“Thanks,” I glance at Alice and adjust my papers, clipboard, pen and laptop.
“Should I be part of this huddle?” Eric has joined our end of the table.
Instantly, Alice wraps her arm around his waist.
“It’s not a huddle. I’m just injecting Sophie with a little bit of self confidence.”
Eric feigns mock shock.
“Sophie.” He points in my direction. “This Sophie needs confidence?” Now he shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”
All three of us laugh.
I’m lucky to have such supportive friends.
Alice and I go way back. We sat together on our first day of school.
But we really bonded when Charley Chatterley called me clumsy. I burst into tears, and Alice broke her ruler over pig boy’s head. Since then, we’ve been through thick and thin―as well as film school.
Luckily, Eric understood our friendship and was not one of those guys who tried to break us apart.
I push my own chair back and hug first Alice, who promptly makes choo choo noises in my ear, and then Eric, who thankfully doesn’t.
“Thank you,” for some reason I feel a little teary. “You two are too good to me.”
With a deep breath and my shoulders held proudly back, I smile brightly.
“What’s the worst that can happen?” I quip and glance at my watch. The two stars are due in three minutes. “With any luck, he won’t show up.”
I stress the word he.
Alice pecks Eric on the cheek and sits down again. I see him give us one last thumbs up before he’s gone.
I’m trying to think of words of wisdom Dad would have thrown my way over the years, but nothing comes to mind.
For another few seconds, I indulge in strolling down memory lane. I used to love sitting on dad’s knees when he was sitting in his director chair. It was black and had the words “Director” written on the back in large white letters. The words Do not touch were printed underneath.
Dad did not take me often on set, but when he did, I relished every second.
Suddenly, the door opens, and a petite blonde woman walks in, accompanied by a much taller and slightly round man at her side.
I watch Emma closely as she comes into the room. She’s not very tall, but she’s very well proportioned. Her eyes remind me of a deer. They look a little timid, but they’re beautiful.
To my surprise, I register that her blonde hair is naturally blonde; it’s not the peroxide blonde most actresses seem to have these days. She wears it in a casual up-style. A few strands have escaped and hang loosely down to her shoulder.
Alice stands to take over the introductions.
I hold out my hand and am pleased Emma takes it and actually shakes it. No dead fish handshake with this woman.
Something else I instantly like about her is her smile. It looks genuine, non-Botoxed.
“Nice to meet you, Emma,” I invite them both to sit down.
For the first few minutes, we engage in the usual small talk: about the weather, the traffic and then about the film.
“I’ve read the script,” Emma steers the conversation to business. “Who is playing the lead role?”
“Sophie is playing the lead role and directing,” explains Alice for me.
I glance at my watch. Todd should be here by now.
“Lovely,” replies Emma, and I’m pleased my co-star seems to be of a good nature.
My eyes wander to the door and back to my watch. The arrogant prick is now ten minutes late.
“Look, I’m really sorry but our other main star is not here yet. Do you mind if we wait just a few more minutes?”
Emma shrugs, leans back in her chair, and crosses her legs.
Her agent on the other hand flicks through his phone before he leans toward his star and whispers something in her ear.
“It appears I’m needed in other meetings after this. Are we able to start without him?”
I look at Alice, who nods her agreement.
“Sorry,” I’m all business-like, careful not to let my anger take hold of me. “Of course we can start.”
By the time our meeting finishes, I’m quite excited to be working with Emma. Eric described her as being subpar with a huge fan base. I found her easy to get along with.
Perhaps she isn’t the brightest bunny out there, but we can’t all be super geniuses, right?
“I can’t believe the arrogance of the man not to show up today.” It takes every ounce of self-control not to throw something at the wall. “Not only did he miss the meeting, but he made us, his colleagues, wait.” I’m seething with rage.
Alice drums her fingers on the edge of the table. She knows better than to interrupt me when I’m in this state.
“You better call his agent and find out what’s going on. Because if you let me do it, I’ll end up firing him on the spot.”
5
Todd
Damn, who are all these people?
I'm thumbing through my phone messages and there have to be at least ten missed calls and a dozen texts. The only number I recognize is Jordan’s. Nope, not right now, pal
I swipe left and put the phone back inside my jacket pocket. I am uninterested in anything except getting another glass of Winter Storm.
There’s nothing like twenty-one-year-old Kentucky bourbon. It goes down sweet.
I motion to the bartender for a refill. He hustles over with the tall white bottle, and I watch as he po
urs the deep amber liquid.
“Ahhhh,” I swallow and smile, enjoying the burn at the back of my throat.
I look around. The Eleganzia restaurant is the place to be seen, but there’s no one else here but me at the bar. It’s the lull between lunch and dinner, so the place is almost empty.
I look past the low copper-clad wall that separates the bar from the dining room and see a few celebrity wannabes still sitting at tables, hoping someone will notice them or give them a job.
The real celebrities have already had lunch with their agents, or managers, or studio heads, or with members of their entourage. Whatever it is they’ve done, they’re gone now. Probably out getting that extra shot of Botox, or working off that last cocktail at the gym, or screwing their assistant.
Like I said, whatever.
Looking out past the starlets-in-training, I start thinking again, and my grip tightens around my glass. What possessed me to sign that contract? An independent movie isn’t going to bring my career back from the free fall it’s in.
I take another swig. I'm definitely buzzed.
“Shit, man, finally,” Jordan grunts as he stomps over.
Damn, he’s found me.
He squeezes between the barstools and stands over me. “What the fuck? Like, what the literal fuck are you doing?”
I motion the bartender for another and give Jordan a sideways look.
“Why would you intentionally blow off this meeting?”
Now I give him a smirk.
“No, I’m serious,” Jordan says, pointing his finger in my face.
“Sit down,” I say, and once again I catch the bartender's eye. “Pour my friend a drink, won’t you?”
I can hear Jordan let out a big breath, and I know he’s flaming furious. But frankly, at this point, thanks to the Storm, I am feeling no pain. I’m happy to just sit here all afternoon.
Jordan swallows the shot in one gulp and then stares at the bottles lining the wall. I can see he’s thinking about what he wants to say, and I don’t have to wait long before he lets it rip.
“Todd, it’s obvious you’ve slipped into some sort of idiot phase. Pretty soon, you won’t need to disappear, ‘cause people are going to start acting like you’re invisible. It's never good when you don’t show up for a meeting, and I’m telling you, this is catastrophic.”
Jordan is serving up all kinds of buzzkill, and I need to put an end to this inquisition.
“Jeez, calm down,” I say, “This is not the shit storm you think it is. People flake on meetings all the time. Don’t worry about it.”
He gives me a stone-cold look, and it doesn’t matter what I say, because I can see he's not about to let up. Christ, he’s ragging on me like he’s my mother.
I’m about to tell Jordan that it’s time for him to leave, when I hear a commotion at the maitre d’s desk.
I swivel my seat to get a better look, and I see a sexy beauty with eyes blazing barreling toward me. I stand and Jordan jumps from his barstool. She stops inches from my face, her nostrils flaring.
“You are not that important. The world does not owe you a favor, and the sooner you realize it, the better off anyone forced to associate with you will be!”
I have no idea who this woman is, but there’s no doubt she is upset and hell bent on ripping me a new asshole. That video is like a bad smell following me wherever I go. But at this point I have taken all I’m going to take.
“Look, lady, I’m gonna tell you what I told the press. Fuck off!”
I expect her to march off, but instead she stands there looking a little nonplussed. Maybe this gorgeous woman is nuts. Maybe I should be feeling sorry for her.
I look around for help, but Jordan grabs me by the arm, and clears his throat.
“Uh…Todd…I’d like you to meet Sophie Palmer, your director and leading lady.”
Well, color me caught. I smile sheepishly at her, but it’s not returned. I extend my hand, but she slaps it away. This bitch is furious.
“Don’t you understand that you’re not the only one affected when you don’t show up?” Ms. Palmer pokes her finger hard against my chest, and I step back an inch, trapped between her and the bar.
“I’ve spent time and money and called in any number of favors for this movie.” She brushes back her hair with a flick of her hand.
For some reason, I find this woman's rant sexy. The angrier she gets, the more captivated I am.
“Look, this film is very important to me,” she continues, “and you just shit all over it by thinking you’re a movie star who can get away with anything. Well, let me set you straight. That’s not how we’re going to play this.”
Sophie turns to walk away, but I step in front of her. We're staring into each other’s eyes and she’s not backing down.
I am transfixed. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but this woman has definitely got my undivided attention.
6
Sophie
I’m not a violent person, not all, but right now I’m struggling not to punch or kick Todd to get his attention.
I doubt he’s heard anything I’ve said to him, the arrogant pig.
“Todd? Earth to Todd? Mother of all mother’s give me mercy.” I ring my hands in frustration and stomp my right foot onto the ground. My instincts had warned me - why didn’t I listen to them?
To make sure I maintain some semblance of self-control I keep my shaking hands by my side and make a tight fist. I try and slow down my breathing. This man is really impossible. I can’t believe I’ve found him sitting at the bar of The Extravaganza in the middle of the day.
It is beyond me why he is simply staring at me and not groveling at my feet, begging forgiveness.
Mental note to self, next time Alice and Erik want me to work with some rude, self-absorbed mega star, say no. Yeah, sure, it was one of the investors demands – to bring Todd in so that the whole project could turn a profit…but, really, is it worth it?
“We were about to take a seat in the restaurant Sophie. Why don’t you join us? You seem a little upset. Hot and bothered is how I would describe you, actually.”
I am staring at a smiling Todd. Not a hint of remorse.
Is he taking the piss out of me, or is he serious? I can’t tell.
Unfortunately his sudden change to nice guy is taking the wind out of my sails. It took all my courage to storm in here and confront the man and now my self-assurance is waning.
I reach for my gold pendant, a clapper board, a gift from dad for graduating from film school and move it from side to side on its chain.
Without waiting for an answer Todd guides me to a table. He pulls out a chair for me and makes sure I’m seated before he pushes my chair in a little.
If I had to put money on it, I would have said Todd is the last person to know about manners, and here he is, being a perfect gentleman.
I sigh. More of my anger evaporates.
Todd has taken charge and that’s not how I had planned to rip shreds out of him. I was a savage beast on the prowl and hungry for blood. Todd was my prey. He was meant to cower in front of me and beg forgiveness.
Why didn’t he stick to the script? The man’s impossible. He’s writing his own and getting away with it. My confidence is quickly nose-diving.
“Can I just say how sorry Todd is for missing the meeting,” Jordan says and I take the menu a waiter is handing me.
“You see,” Jordan continues, “it was my fault. I did not synch our calendars and did not tell Todd about the meeting. It won’t happen again.”
There’s a thud from under the table, a grunt from Todd and then a “no, it won’t happen again.”
I pretend not to have noticed anything. My head is hidden behind the menu. From what I can see Todd leans forward a little to rub his shin. If looks could kill, Jordan would be nothing more than a pile of ashes.
The waiter is back to take our order.
Words swim in front of me. Things are moving too fast. Exactly at what point in time had I r
eneged on being the driver and agreed to back seat passenger position?
In my plan there was no invitation to sit with Todd, share a drink or anything of the sort. In my plan there was a severe verbal attack followed by groveling, from Todd.
“I’ll just have water,” I mutter and hand the menu back to the waiter. He smiles and turns his attention to Todd and Jordan.
Todd laughs at my order and says something about me being a Palmer and knowing how places like this work.
My rage meter goes up a little.
“If I wanted to have something in this establishment I would pay for it myself, which is what we Palmers are known for. The Palmers don’t need charity.” I hold my head up high.
Clearly I have been premature in thinking the man was kind of decent.
I clear my throat. Positive self-talk. You can do this, you can do this. I think of the little steam engine.
“Listen here Todd.” I start and make my voice sound as icy as I can. “I did not come here to have drinks with you or Jordan. It’s not a social occasion for me. I came here to make sure there’s not going to be any further problem with you.” I take a deep breath; so far so good. “If you are going to work on this film you need to give it one hundred percent. I expect all my team members to give me one hundred percent.”
Todd is nodding and seems to be hanging on every word I say. I’m not sure, but deep down I feel as if he’s mocking me.
“I promise Sophie,” he holds up his left hand and puts his right hand on his heart. I roll my eyes. What a melodramatic drama queen. “I will give one hundred percent. I will not give you any problem and I will be there from the first day till the last day.”
What an over spruced bush turkey.
“Them’s big words Todd Alexander,” I say and make to stand. “You better live up to them big words, otherwise…” I don’t finish my sentence, partly because I’m not quite sure what to say and partly because I need to leave…now.
I take slow deliberate steps away from Todd and Jordan. I don’t want to appear as if I’m running away from them, even though that is exactly what I’m doing.
