Stranded (5 page)

“About what?” Kendall asked and Juan shifted a bit closer.

“See, there seems to be a… difference of opinion about you. So various people might try to rattle you to see what you’re made of.”

“Sort of like playing tricks on the new guy?” Kendall asked. He remembered the jokes the cast sometimes played on first-timers. They weren’t malicious, just a bit of teasing. He’d expected that sort of thing.

“Yeah, probably,” Juan said seriously, and Kendall got the feeling that whatever was going on was a lot bigger and would probably go a lot deeper than harmless pranks. “Like I said, don’t let them rattle you.”

“I’ll do my best,” Kendall said. He’d spent the past fifteen years around serious theater people with their squabbles, egos, and petty requirements. He figured he could handle whatever these people threw at him. But from the doubtful expression on Juan’s face, the assistant’s assistant didn’t think so. “Don’t worry. I spent years dealing with temperamental directors and costars on Broadway.”

“If you say so,” Juan said and then reached to the seat next to him. He opened an app on his smartphone. “Like I said, you’re meeting with the producers and the director. Later, you have an appointment with wardrobe so they can take all your measurements. After that, we’ll stop by makeup so they can get a look at your face and skin tone. After that, it’s cinematography, where we’ll get you in front of a camera so they can see the lighting, filters, and other effects that work best for you.”

“Is there some sort of screen test on the schedule? I sort of figured they’d want to see me in front of a camera before they actually hired me.”

Juan looked at him askance. “They did. As I understand it, you did a television special a year ago to promote one of your shows. From what I saw, the camera loves you.”

“Okay,” Kendall said, trying to remember that appearance. It hadn’t been more than five minutes, and all he’d done was talk to one of the hosts and perform one of the songs from the show. It seemed to him they were basing a lot of decisions on a very few minutes, but then again, these people knew what they were doing. At least he sure as hell hoped they did. The car pulled to a stop, and Kendall peered out. They appeared to have stopped at a gate.

“We’re entering the studio,” Juan said, and after a minute they pulled forward and along what appeared to be a road, but most of the traffic seemed to be golf carts. They traveled slowly, probably stuck behind one of the carts. Eventually they stopped. The door opened, and Kendall stepped out of the large vehicle, followed by Juan. A few people stopped to look, but they quickly moved on. “They’re checking to see if you’re someone.”

“What?” Kendall asked.

“They’re checking to see if they recognize you. Many of the people around are studio personnel or extras, and they sometimes stop to see if they recognize someone famous.”

Kendall obviously didn’t warrant their attention for very long, because everyone moved on. Juan walked around the car and spoke to the driver. Then he walked back to where Kendall was waiting and craned his head to look at everything around him. There was surprisingly little to look at—mostly what he surmised were soundstages, large buildings that all looked the same, painted the same shade of off-white. “I expected it to be more… interesting,” Kendall said, and Juan laughed.

“Here, the magic happens on the inside, and there are more interesting areas. Some of the studios still retain their backlots, like at Universal, and they rent them out for various movies. It’s all a business, and everything is here to make movies or television shows, which hopefully make money.” Juan chuckled. “We have some time. I can show you around a bit if you like.” Juan began walking, and Kendall followed. “If you see filming, just keep quiet, and whatever you do, stay out of the shot.” They wandered down the street of soundstages until they came to the back. “That’s the backlot.”

“It looks sort of like a hollow city,” Kendall said.
Of course, what else would he expect?
“They’re like stage sets, only larger.”

“Exactly. The front is dressed for the movie, and no one but the crew ever sees the back, so that’s left as it is. Most of what you see as buildings in the movies are just sets on a framework. Most shooting happens on soundstages because it’s so much easier to control everything. There aren’t weather issues, and the light is just the way you want it. But sometimes it isn’t possible, so then films are shot on location. For
Stranded
, there have been people scouting locations for a month or more now. But Mr. Davidson needs to okay them.”

Kendall nodded, and they walked back the way they’d come. “It’s a bit warm,” Kendall remarked, and he moved into the shade of the large buildings, where it was cooler. He didn’t want to be a sweaty mess for the meeting.

“Sorry, I should have been paying attention,” Juan said and then stopped. “Look, you won’t tell Mr. Davidson about what happened… you know, at the hotel. He’d probably fire me… not that he really knows who I am, but still.”

“Juan, I promise. If things had been different, I’d probably have taken you up on your offer,” Kendall said. “But don’t sell yourself short. You deserve more than….” Kendall swallowed, then said, “Than what you were offering.” He didn’t want to presume anything, but Kendall had an idea that he wasn’t the first guy Juan had propositioned like that.

“What more is there?” Juan asked with a wicked grin, the grown-up version of a kid on Christmas morning.

“Love,” Kendall said. “Someone who’s yours, and yours alone.” He paused and thought about Johnny, smiling at a mental image of him bent over his computer, staring intently at the screen. Then Johnny looked up and smiled at Kendall, the smile that was only for him. It had been a long time since he’d seen that look. Kendall was trying to remember exactly how long when Juan softly cleared his throat. “Lead on,” Kendall said, and followed Juan back.

“Go on inside,” Juan said. “They should be expecting you.”

“Aren’t you coming?” Kendall asked as he walked toward the door and Juan stayed back.

“God, no. I need to get back to my boss, and for this one, you’re on your own.” Juan chuckled, and Kendall pulled open the door, walking inside what appeared to be a small office area.

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked as she looked him over and then returned to her computer screen. Obviously she didn’t think he was entitled to her attention. “If you don’t have an appointment, you can have a seat and they might get to you today, otherwise….” She never looked up.

“I’m Kendall Monroe, and I believe I’m expected,” Kendall said in his best New York haughty accent. He’d encountered more than his share of self-important functionaries in his career.

“Oh,” she said, her eyes widening. That obviously got her attention. “Please make yourself comfortable. I’ll let them know you’re here.” She stood up and hurried away through a door behind her desk. Kendall looked around. The place seemed more like mobile home chic than Hollywood grandeur. Kendall wondered just what he was getting himself into. Was this some movie they were making on a shoestring? With the money Sal had said was being offered, he hadn’t thought so, but who knew. She returned, and Kendall heard a heated discussion drift in.

“I don’t care. I didn’t ask for him,” a commanding voice said, and then the door closed, cutting off any more.

“They’ll be just a minute. Can I get you something? Coffee, Perrier?” she offered, her change of tone complete.

Kendall stood up. “No, thank you….” He held out his hand, and she stared at it for a second.

“Cassandra,” she finally supplied, taking Kendall’s hand. Kendall had discovered a long time ago that the assistants, secretaries, and receptionists in the entertainment business wielded their own sort of power—access. More than once, Kendall had gotten a leg up on the competition simply because he knew and was on friendly terms with a producer’s assistant. He’d also found it took very little effort to be kind and to see people others tended to overlook.

“Although from the argument I heard, a belt of something might be in order before I get thrown to the lions.” He chuckled and Cassandra did the same as she sat back at her desk.

“They’re all bark and no bite,” she said as she took her seat once again. Then she leaned across her desk. “You seem like a nice guy, so whatever you do, don’t let them push you around.”

Kendall shook his head just a tad. He’d met two people so far, and both of them had told him that. “Thanks,” he said, and Cassandra answered the phone and then hung up again without saying a word.

“You can go on back,” she told him, motioning toward the door. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Kendall said and pulled open the door to a conference room. Three men stared at him when he entered, and once he’d closed the door, they stood up.

“Kendall,” one of the men said, walking around the table. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Robert Starr, and this is Barty Lippert. We’re the producers of
Stranded
.” He took Kendall’s hand and shook it warmly. “Barty and I saw your last show when we were in New York,” he said as he looked at the other man, “two, three months ago. It was fabulous, and when we heard it actually closed, we knew we had to snap you up before someone else did.” He smiled, seeming to bounce with so much energy that Kendall couldn’t help smiling too. Then they turned to the third man in the room. “And this bundle of joy is our director, Lyman Davidson.”

“It’s good to meet you,” Davidson said without a hint of sincerity. He also didn’t offer his hand. Robert motioned him to a chair, and Kendall sat down.

“You’ve read the script?” Robert asked.

“Yes. I received a copy from my agent.”

“Then you’ve read it?” he repeated, and Kendall nodded, settling back in his chair. “What did you think of it?”

“Parts of it were interesting,” Kendall said honestly, and all three men looked at each other. “I really like the idea of exploring Parker’s emotions as he’s locked in the car.” His leg shook under the table at the thought of being locked in a car, but yeah, as he’d examined the script on the plane, he’d realized Sal was right and he could use that fear in the character.

“Look,” Lyman snapped as he leaned on the table. “I believe in putting the cards on the table, yeah,” he said in an Australian accent. He’d have been cute were it not for the fire coming out of his eyes. “They’re the producers and they chose you for this role. I get that. But this is my movie and you will do as I say. I’m the director, and it’s my vision for the film that will get it to the screen, not some dancing pansy from Broadway.”

Kendall looked at the other two men, who had gone silent, their praise and fluff withering on the vine. “You’re just a bundle of sunshine, aren’t you?” Kendall said, and he leaned forward on the table. “I think we need to get something straight. I’ve worked with all kinds of directors. Some who were easy to get on with, and some of the biggest assholes in the business, and there’s one thing I know: the shows directed by the assholes all closed fast, because their assholeness made it onto the stage. Or in your case, the film. See, my agent told me who the director was, and I spent the last week watching every one of your movies.” Kendall saw Lyman smile. “And they were interesting, because they’re a reflection of you. The assholeness came through, big-time. Your characters were all angry even when it wasn’t necessary.” Kendall met the director’s stony gaze with one of his own. “The directors who worked with their cast and pulled the best performances they could from the ensemble? Those shows ran for years.”

“Robert, Barty, I just don’t think this is going to work,” Lyman said to the other two men, and Kendall stood up.

“That’s perfectly fine,” Kendall said. “Just pay me and I’ll be on my way.”

“Pay you?” the producers said.

“Oh yes, read the contract. I did. It states on page eight the amount I will be compensated for this movie, with the first two hundred thousand payable on the first day. I’m here, I’m working, this is the first day. So write me a check and I’ll go back to New York.” All three of the men went white. “Yeah, see I’m from New York, and I might look like I’m fresh from the farm, but I’m not. I’m a professional, and I give each role the very best I can. I also treat everyone with respect,” Kendall said, turning his gaze to Lyman. “So if you want to work together, then treat me with the same respect you want from everyone else, and we’ll make a great movie.” Kendall sat back and let his gaze shift from one man to the next.

“This is going to be perfect,” Robert said with more enthusiasm than he’d had before. Then he stood up, along with Barty, and they left the room. Obviously they were expecting a directorial explosion and wanted to be out of the room when it happened. The door clicked closed, and Lyman stood up, glaring over the table.

“How dare you?” he yelled. “Those films….”

“Were just what I said. They were good and I enjoyed each of them, but I told you the truth,” Kendall said, standing up as well, meeting the director glare for glare. “You didn’t even meet me. You made assumptions about me and had already made up your mind before I ever got in here.”

Lyman huffed through his nose. “So what’s your point?”

“I was hired because I can bring this character to life, and I will, if you let me.” Kendall softened his tone but kept it firm.

“We’ll see,” Lyman said without breaking Kendall’s gaze. “There’s some revisions being made to the script. I’ll make sure a copy is messengered to you tonight.”

Kendall nodded. “Tell them to pay extra attention to pages fifty-six to eighty. The dialogue came off as particularly stilted and plays on some assumptions that aren’t strong enough. I can give you the exact lines if you need them.” They finally broke gazes, and Kendall sat back down.

“I think we’re done here,” Lyman said, and he walked to the door. “I’m reserving judgment, but I’ll see you tomorrow morning. We’re leaving to go on location at eight tomorrow. My assistant will send a car.” Lyman opened the door, and the two producers came back inside. Kendall said good-bye to the three men and left the room.

“You still with us?” Cassandra asked, and Kendall smiled.