“Hot. Just totally hot,” I say, unspooling the exact words my mother longs to hear. “And sweet too. It was like this perfect mix of sexy and sweet, and the viewers are going to love it.”
She smiles deeply, like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. “Thank you. I don’t want to disappoint any of the viewers.”
“They love your show, Mom. They love all the lords and ladies,” I say, reassuring her properly, because I’m steeped in just the right words, said in just the right tone, to reassure her. Because I love her, even though I hate so many things about her. My love is stronger than my hate.
It has to be.
Chapter Four
Noah
Two seconds after I step off the elevator in my office building, the doorman calls me over.
“Hey, Mr. Hayes. I have something for you,” he says from his post at the gleaming black desk in the lobby. He waves me over like he’s got a secret to share.
“Hey Randy. What have you got?”
The mustached man in the navy-blue uniform lowers his voice to a whisper. “My cousin Joey has a script. New action series centered around a group of coworkers, and each one has special powers. It’s gonna be epic. I’ll bring it to you tomorrow,” he says with a wide smile.
I flash a smile back. Not because I’m eager to read yet another script. But because this is par for the course. Everyone, everywhere, it seems, has a TV show in them, and they’re always asking me to read them. To do to their show ideas what I did for Jewel’s. Make them soar to the top.
“Sounds great, Randy,” I tell him, then give a quick nod good-bye as I head out into the warm May evening.
Then there’s a clap on my shoulder. I swivel around to see my buddy Matthew. He’s a critic for a top-notch music magazine and he works in the same building. He’s never once asked me to read a script for a friend, a cousin, a neighbor. I like that about our friendship.
“Superhero coworkers?” he says, raising an eyebrow. He must have been behind me and heard the whole conversation.
I shrug as we walk uptown. “You never know where you might find the next big hit.”
He laughs, tossing his head back. “You’re far too nice. What are the chances you’ll find a gem in some random script thrust your way?”
“What are the chances you’ll find the next great band in the files record companies send you?” I fire back.
“Touché, mate. Touché. Though, speaking of the next great bands, Jane and I are going to see one tonight at Roseland. It’s not nearly as exciting as seeing a cancan show on Broadway, or what have you, but want to join?”
I roll my eyes as a bus rumbles by, spewing a plume of exhaust. “Ha-ha-ha. Mock my job, why don’t you?”
“It’s not quite mocking your job though, is it? Since I’m pretty sure you go to those Broadway shows for fun, not work,” Matthew says, as we near the avenue.
“What can I say? I’m the straight guy who likes Broadway musicals,” I say, owning it. So what if I like theater?
“I’m just messing with you. Are you on for Retractable Eyes?”
“What time?” I ask, glancing at my watch.
“Late. Ten. Do you need your beauty sleep?”
“I can handle it. I’m heading to Jewel’s house now for dinner and to go over her script.”
“When are you just going to get down on one knee for her?”
I scoff. “That’d be a never.”
There’s a strange silence between us, and then a clearing of his throat as we near the subway entrance. “Right. I nearly forgot. It’s not her you’re keen on,” he says quietly, his voice serious for the first time. He’s the only who knows about Kennedy. “Is that why you still go there?”
“No,” I say, answering quickly and truthfully for the most part. Of course, I like seeing Kennedy. Though like isn’t truly the right word. Crave would be more accurate. But that’s all complicated by the fact that I actually care about her mom, and not only because she’s my biggest client. Jewel Stanzlinger is the reason I’ve earned the regard I have and the client list that came after her. Our business partnership is one of the rare Hollywood-style stories of loyalty and faith. I started working with her back when I was an intern in college, and she was looking for her first break. She was the long-suffering-last-on-the-totem-pole writer for several middling daytime soaps that have since gone off the air. She told me her idea for Lords and Ladies and I quickly landed her a better writing gig on another soap, then pushed hard and fast to make her head writer. She upped the spice factor, boosted the intrigue, and tossed in even more sordid affairs. The whole time she refined and reworked and rewrote Lords and Ladies until it was unpassable. Then I sold it to LGO mere weeks after I graduated from college. It’s one of the biggest TV shows in the country, and I now have one of the most enviable client lists of any TV lit agent in the country, let alone any agent my age.
I owe it all to Jewel.
Which probably makes me the biggest idiot in the world for falling in love with her daughter. Four months after it ended, those feelings for Kennedy show no signs of dissipating.
Zilch. Nada. Goose egg.
I really should go see the band tonight. Just to get my mind off her.
“See you at ten,” I tell Matthew when he reaches the subway entrance.
“See you then. And be careful,” he adds, because he likes to look out for me when it comes to the hornet’s nest of my romantic choices.