I didn’t need to think about it. I would love a chance to represent our country in international play.
“Yes, sir!”
He shook my hand.
“Let’s get serious then.”
◊◊◊
Saul met Caryn and me at Disney studios. We had been slotted for the late afternoon so I could work on the movie. Fridays seemed to be short days because everyone wanted to get away for the weekend. That was one of the benefits of filming in the LA area. Everyone who lived here got to see their friends and families during production. When I’d been on location for Star Academy, in Canada, we worked weekends so people could get it over with sooner. The downside to working in LA was the taxman put the bite on you. California income taxes are not cheap.
Walt Disney Studios in Burbank was the headquarters for Disney. In addition to housing the corporate offices, they had a 51-acre studio lot that contained several sound stages and everything needed to make movies. When we reached the gate, Fritz was given a map and directed to where we needed to go.
We found Saul inside; he’d already checked us in. The whole process was designed to see a lot of actors in a day. I was ushered into a room of ten other men vying for the role. Some I recognized. You waited until your name was called, then went into a room with someone with a video camera.
“State your name and age, then recite the lines.”
I did.
“Thanks. We’ll be in touch.”
And that was it. I came out.
“How’d it go?” Saul asked.
“Nailed it. I’m sure they’ll be calling me back,” I said.
I think I made his day.
◊◊◊
On the ride home, I received a text from Jett. Her band was playing tonight at a restaurant in Santa Monica.
“Fritz, you want to see Jett’s band play again? There would even be dinner in it for you,” I said.
“You buying?”
“Of course. It’s in Santa Monica, so we could jump on the Pacific Coast Highway and spend the night at the beach house. I bet it would be safe to go surfing in the morning.”
“Count me in,” he said.
“Can I talk you into going with us?” I asked Caryn.
“No, I’m meeting up with some of my high school and college friends tonight, so I need to hit the road.”
◊◊◊
When we arrived home to drop off Caryn, Rita wanted to know what I was up to tonight.
“We’re going to a restaurant called Harvelle’s to watch a friend’s band play. Then I plan to spend the night at the beach house so that Fritz and I can go surfing in the morning.”
“You know that Harvelle’s is a bar, don’t you? I don’t believe they serve food,” Rita said.
“Oh. That might be a problem,” I admitted.
“You also need reservations. The last time I was there, you could reserve a table for four, and it cost $100. The money was credited towards your bar tab. They don’t open until eight, and you have to be seated by nine for your reservation,” she explained.
“So, you’ve been there?” I asked.
“Harvelle’s has been around forever. They’re one of the oldest live-music venues in the LA area. I’ve always had a good time when I’ve gone.”
“Do you want to go with us?” I asked.
“You buying?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll go in another car because Halle and I are going to a fundraiser for a no-kill animal shelter in the morning. You might want to stop by after you surf. Caryn told me you were looking to do community work. You just have to promise not to rescue a cat or dog.”
I would have no idea where to keep a pet, nor would I have the time for it.
◊◊◊
We had a nice dinner at Santa Monica Seafood. Fritz pointed out they had ceviche as an appetizer; I passed, deciding instead on clam fritters and steamed littleneck clams as a starter. I picked their cioppino for my dinner. It’s an Italian fish stew, and they made theirs with clams, mussels, fish, shrimp, and calamari in a spicy tomato sauce with grilled ciabatta, an Italian bread. For dessert, I decided to keep with the Italian theme and had the tiramisu.
Rita had Flo as her driver for tonight. We met at Harvelle’s, and I had a little smile when Rita just walked to the front of the line, and we were let in. I briefly thought about getting into line, but Fritz and Halle had stressed security, so I entered along with the others.
Harvelle’s had been established in 1931. It was smaller than I expected, and the room was long and narrow with a bar almost its entire length on one side. There was a high-backed upholstered bench down the other, with small tables lined up along it and two chairs at each table.
You could imagine this place when it first opened: a smoky bar packed with a Benny Goodman-type band or Cab Calloway singing Minnie the Moocher. The look of it just suggested a rich history. If I were in a band, this would be the kind of place I’d want to play.
I was busy teasing Flo about a man who’d bought her a drink when someone sat in my lap. I smiled when I realized who it was.
“Angel! Jett told me you were their manager,” I said.
Angelina ‘Angel’ Hargrove worked for Tom and managed Eve Holliday, my ex-girlfriend. Tom had hired Angel from Stone Mountain Records. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her. It had to be over a year ago.
“Thank you for that. I think Birthrite is going places. We just need to get more original songs to record.”
I introduced Angel to everyone. She only stayed a moment because she had to go deal with some emergency that always seems to crop up when you’re doing something like this.
When the band began to play, I pulled Rita onto the dance floor. Jett winked at me because when we started to dance, others joined us. For an older woman, Rita had some moves. She left me and sent Flo out when I began to show her some of my better ones. Rita actually laughed at me. All I know is that Jett and her band were a lot of fun.
◊◊◊
Rita and Flo left around midnight, but I hung around until the music stopped. Jett had come by our table during a break and asked me to stay to the end. I was surprised when she waved goodbye to her bandmates and joined us.
“I’m starved. Take me somewhere where we can get breakfast,” Jett said with her big smile.
Fritz said he knew of a place, and we left.
“You were good tonight,” I said as we ate.
“It’s easy when we have everyone up and dancing. You’ve got some moves for a white boy,” she teased me.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. You forget we’re in California, the home of political correctness,” I said in my best uppity-white-boy voice.
“Puleeease!” she said in disgust. “I’ve had more sexist things said to me since I’ve been here than I ever heard in Chicago.”
“We’re going to the beach house and surfing in the morning. Want to join us?” I asked.
“That was smooth. Was that your way of asking me to sleep with you?” Jett asked.
Fritz suddenly had to use the restroom.
“I wouldn’t say no, but we do have guest rooms.”
“Let me call Hana. She acts like a den mother. If I plan to be out all night, she wants to know, or she’ll call my mom and tell on me,” Jett said.
I totally understood that. Your best friends could be evil sometimes.
When we finally arrived at the beach house, I showed Jett where the guest room was. I also showed her where Halle’s bedroom was so she could borrow a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. While Jett got settled, I took a shower because I’d been dancing all night and could smell myself. I didn’t want to stink up the sheets. I came out to find Jett in my bed, wearing nothing but a smile.
“Here’s the deaclass="underline" I like you and want you to be my friend. If this would screw that up, then I’ll go back to my room. On the other hand, it’s been over two weeks since I’ve gotten any. I could really use some loving.”