The sight of two huge white envelopes, at least six inches thick, sitting on my desk greets me the moment I walk in my office. I approach it with curiosity.
Kay looks at me. “I hope that’s not your severance package,” she jokes.
I raised a brow. “At least it would be a big one.”
Laughing, she taps her pencil on her desk. “Well, what is it?” she asks.
Pride rushes through me as I see Warner Bros. stamped across the thick packages.
“It must be the script changes for my uncle’s movie,” I beam.
She purses her lips. “What movie? I didn’t know your uncle made movies.”
I sit down and roll my chair to open the side drawer. “He doesn’t. My uncle was a musician and Warner Bros. is making a movie about his life.”
“Don’t tell me your uncle is Ian Daniels,” she remarks in shock.
Slitting the envelopes open with the letter opener, I pull the contents out of the first one. “None other.”
She stares at me, seemingly unable to speak.
“What?” I ask, glancing down at the two-page memorandum from the director addressed to me.
“My sister is doing her first screen test today for the role of Madeline in that movie.”
“In the movie, No Led Zeppelin?” I ask.
“Yes.” She beams.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” she answers.
My eyes scan the words before me.
Ms. Daniels,
As you know screenplays are instruments that transform words on a page and bring stories to life. They should snap, crackle, and pop from page one. And although I find your uncle’s life fascinating, I believe the integral element of romance is needed to make this movie all it can be. I want to grab the audience’s attention from page 1, from the very first scene. And when it ends, I want to leave the audience grieving with the most profound emotional impact I possibly can.
So with that being said, attached are the changes I’ve made to the script. The biographers stumbled across your uncle’s on again off again romance and I have taken a few liberties to expand upon it. The romance your uncle shared with Madeline Grayson through the years and even up until the two years before his death is inspiring . . .
My heart sinks and I lift my eyes from the paper. Madeline Grayson? That’s Levi’s mother. I had no idea my uncle ever dated her. She was married to Levi’s father for years. But they divorced that last summer I spent at the beach with my uncle. The summer before Levi broke my heart and I couldn’t bring myself to go back until it was too late. Until my uncle was dying.
I glance over at Kay. “When did you say your sister was doing the screen test?”
“She got a call about an hour ago and was told to be there at two.”
“Who’s your sister?” I ask as I try to glance at the script changes that will take days to go through.
“Jules Atwood. We’re half-sisters, actually.”
The name rings in my head, but I can’t place it. I know I’ve heard of her.
“Aerie?” she asks.
I look up. “I’m sorry. What?”
“My sister. Do you think she’d be good for the role of your uncle’s girlfriend?”
I click my computer keyboard and Google Jules Atwood. “I’m not really sure, to be honest with you.”
My mouth drops as I stare at the face of the woman I saw in the elevator that morning. The one with the raspberry leather jacket, the one with the haunting face, the one Jagger spoke to by his car, and—Kay’s sister. Zooming in on one of the pictures on the screen, she’s dressed in a long tight skirt, showing off her narrow hips and tall, slender figure—and that’s all she’s wearing. She’s topless with her hair in front of her breasts and her heavy-looking earrings sparkle in the reflection of the water she’s standing in. She’s absolutely stunning and the thought of her cast against Jagger makes my stomach turn.
I quickly close the computer window and take a deep calming breath. “Excuse me a minute.” I grab my phone and head out to the lobby. Dialing my attorney, he comes on the line and reminds me that I declined my rights to review script changes. He says we can fight them but they’d probably win. However, it would tie up production for a long time and maybe long enough that the execs would just shelve the project.
I hold back my tears as I sit down and lean against the cool glass. Why did I never know my uncle had an affair with his neighbor? She was at all his summer parties with her husband. Did he have a love affair with a married woman? But I loved him, and who he loved would never have made a difference to me—married woman or not, I wouldn’t have cared. But I would have liked to have known—to have seen him happy with her. I would have liked someone who loved him to talk to about him once he was gone.
Colored vases adorn the shiny granite topped reception area and soft music beats through the speakers. It’s quiet in the lobby and I stay out here for a long while with my head in my hands, just trying to think about nothing.
“Aerie, there you are,” Kay says, rushing my way. “My friend over at the Warner Bros. lot told me to come by on the pretense of an interview for the first issue of Sound Entertainment Magazine and I could grab a peak at the casting table. Come with me. I want you to meet my sister,” she implores.
I’m reluctant, but my curiosity wins out. “Sure, I’ll come. Let me just check in with Shelly and make sure the layouts I gave her on Friday have been accepted.”
“Judging by the nine-story-high billboards, I guess they tape Conan there.” Kay snorts as she pulls up to the Warner Bros. gate.
The guard directs her to a large parking structure across the street. I’m pretty sure if I had called Brett, we would have given me a drive-on. When she parks her Mercedes SLS, I notice we are the only car in this lot with California plates.
We cross the street and go through an airport-like security check where we have to show our IDs. Once we walk onto the lot, it’s clear we’re in Hollywood. Each soundstage has a sign indicating what movies are being filmed in them.
“We’re looking for Soundstage 5. My friend told me to look for Casablanca on the plaque.” Kay’s New York accent is more prominent than Jagger’s and it’s hard to miss the more excited she gets.
The building is a charming old structure with a tile roof. We pull open the door and there are two more doors to follow. We turn to the right where we can hear voices and stop in the open doorway. Peeking in the room, I make out Styrofoam lunch containers littering the surrounding area and a number of people sitting around a table. Cameramen are spread throughout the space and they move around cues I don’t understand.
“They’re doing a read through with my sister,” Kay gushes.
My eyes are drawn to the raspberry leather jacket, but cut to the blue quilted vest on the guy sitting beside her. I didn’t even know he was going to be here—did he? Chewing my thumbnail, I try to hear what they’re discussing.
“What are they doing?” I ask Kay.
“A read-through of sorts. No blocking though. My friend told me this morning that they’re going to take a number of couple pair ups and team them in different scenes to see who they want to invite back.”
Whoever her friend is, she’s well informed. The air blower overhead dies down and I can hear much better now.
Jagger as Ian: Look, for the last time I don’t give a fuck what you do anymore. I’m done.
Jules as Madeline: Don’t say that. I told you I’m going to leave him. Just give me some time.