Junior Year Box Set

“I take it you wouldn’t want the rest of the firm to benefit.”

“No, those assholes can … well, you know,” I said, stopping before I told her what I really thought.

“Maybe you can pay them directly somehow. I’ll ruminate on it and see. Perhaps you could send them on a vacation in lieu of cash,” Tyler suggested.

“I’ll let you figure out what works. I also trust you to do what’s needed for the contract. Send it over to my dad when you need it signed,” I said, and then we said goodbye.

I hung up as we pulled into the dojo parking lot. Yuri had a good idea, having Jan drive him. I just couldn’t imagine letting Cassidy drive the Charger, though.

◊◊◊

When I returned home, I called Frank Ingram of IDC–Public Relations, my PR agent.

“Hey, Frank. What did you find out about the blog?” I asked.

“The blog was established last week, and we haven’t figured out who owns it yet. We did robo-vote the site, and you’re now at 98% swagger. So, you’re no longer a douche. You want me to follow up and see who posted it?”

“No. I mean yes,” I said, changing my mind. “Someone took the time to do it and obviously has an ax to grind. I think we need to find out who.”

“Okay. I’ll put my gal on it. She can crack the website and figure out who’s behind it.”

“What can you tell me about Saul Gessler?” I asked.

“Did you sign with him?”

“Not yet. I wanted to ask what you thought of him. He said he’d talked to you,” I said.

“Hollywood is full of sharks, and Saul is the biggest and baddest of the bunch. He’s a pain in the ass, and also one of my good friends. Saul comes across as an arrogant prick, that if I were an actor, I’d hire. He’ll be your arrogant prick,” Frank shared.

“He checked out my mom awful hard.”

Frank burst out laughing.

“That’s Saul. He may look, but he’ll never touch. His wife might have something to say about it,” Frank said, and then became serious. “I understand your concerns. Saul seems like the worst possible guy for your image. He’s loud, abrasive, a hard drinker, and just about everything you would expect from the cliché Hollywood agent—in public. Get him behind doors, and he’s a savvy businessman who has an instinct for this business. If Saul offered to be your agent, then he sees something in you.”

“So, you trust him? You’d leave your mom with him for an afternoon, and she’d come back unmolested?” I asked.

“Well, your mom is cute,” Frank teased.

“You remember that I’ll be on a plane to LA in three weeks, right?” I asked.

“Yes, I do, and you’ll have no worries about Saul.”

Frank then caught me up on what he’d been doing for me. He’d updated my various social media accounts, adding a bunch of photos of me doing different athletic activities to highlight my talents to the movie industry. Frank explained that if I showed diversity, I’d be considered for a broader range of possible parts. In fact, he had done a lot of it based on what Saul had asked him to do. My eyes started to glaze over when Frank began talking about the different metrics of my potential fan base they were working with to drive my social media followers up.

When I hung up, I felt better about Saul, and knew that he and Frank would work well together. I’d let Tyler tangle with Saul and get our contract worked out.

◊◊◊

Pam usually came over on Monday nights, but she and her mom had planned a girls’ night out. So I was surprised when I heard the downstairs door open. I could tell I was safe because my guard dog trotted to the head of the stairs, and his tail began to wag. Three little voices wafted up to me, and I smiled as Kyle and Mac were almost sent tumbling by an excited Duke. I had to go grab him. I about turned him loose when in came Angie with Nate in her arms. She and I hadn’t talked since she’d confided in me.

“Ice cream,” Mac told me as she pulled on my pant leg.

Mac was serious about her ice cream. Angie smiled at me.

“Your mom told them that you had ice cream. They wouldn’t settle down until they could see their Uncle David and eat all his ice cream,” Angie said as she handed me Nate.

“Nate, you want to help me?” I asked to his delight.

A baby’s laughter should be a cure for cancer. It just makes you feel better about your day. I thought I would introduce the little guys to one of the great joys in life, cookie butter. Trader Joe’s had figured out that if you combined almond butter with crushed-up gingerbread cookies, you had the perfect product. I’d discovered that if you put a tablespoon scoop into the bottom of a bowl and microwaved it for thirty seconds, it became warm gooey goodness. You then scooped in vanilla ice cream and stirred it around until the cookie butter swirled into the ice cream.

“Oh, my,” Angie groaned as she tried her bowl.

“Duke! Park it!” I commanded as he attempted to lick out of Mac’s bowl.