Caught on Camera

Chapter 8, Scene 2, Part 16

Scene 2

In his bathroom Mickey brushed his teeth, combed his hair, swiped a palm across his jaw line. Yup, his five o'clock shadow merited a quick shave to protect Rachel's sensitive skin. He loosened his tie and lathered up.

The unsigned contract in the inside breast pocket of his bespoke Italian suit jacket draped over the back of a chair overshadowed his anticipation of private time with Rachel. He needed more income. Commissions from his film crew and aspiring screenwriter clients didn't generate sufficient revenue to cover the expense of prime office space for his new agency. 

With Monday's non-negotiable deadline to sign the commercial property lease, pressure to add an up-and-coming star, or preferably two, to his stable of clients ratcheted higher with every passing hour. Delonda, his indispensable executive assistant, believed in him, had agreed to quit her job at Herron Talent Agency and follow him to his new agency, provided he lined up enough clients to pay her salary and the bills.

Re-entering the bedroom scant minutes later, he tossed the tie onto the bed. A glance at the bedside clock radio confirmed that he'd better hurry or risk failing to intercept the enigmatic beauty and her neglected charge. Candy insisted on dragging the dog everywhere, including across the U.S.-Canada border. The paperwork must have been a bitch.

Although the warm evening didn't merit a jacket, keeping the contract close at hand did. He swung the suit jacket off the chair and slid his phone into a trouser pocket. In less than forty-eight hours Tiffany'd be back in the clutches of her conniving California manager, beyond his reach. With Garth glued to Tiff that weekend like an Offense Tackle protecting a Quarterback, Mickey aimed to convince him at the bachelor party that signing Tiffany to Mickey's new agency was in her best interest.

Everyone in Hollywood knew Halden's company produced three blockbuster films in five short years with Garth Armstrong holding the production reigns as Chief Operating Officer. Renowned as the Man with the Midas Touch, Garth had one inexplicable blind spot: Tiffany.

When sober, Tiffany habitually took calculated actions that furthered her career, including her now-floundering marriage to an award-winning director that generated a starring role. Subsequently recognized as a stunning filly bursting with talent, she appeared to be heading off track unless, well... unless someone who put Tiffany's career first and foremost reined in Tiff's drinking. If not himself as Tiffany's next agent, then Mickey had to acknowledge her career would benefit by adding Garth to her stable.

Thus prepared for his date with Candy's amusing cousin and the bachelor party to follow, Mickey exited through his room's sliding doors, vaulted the low masonry wall, and strolled across the lawn to the hotel's flagstone terrace to wait for the lovely Rachel.

Flickering flames of citronella torches kept mosquitoes at bay. A couple of dozen guests mingled, relaxed in Muskoka chairs, sipped nightcaps, murmured conversationally in the cooling night air. A waiter shuttled back and forth to the bar inside with a tray laden with brandies and glass mugs of spiked coffee. Mickey shoved his hands in his pockets and paced the length of the terrace.

Rachel. The lovely woman's naïve persona coupled with an uncanny gift for movie trivia kept him captivated. And chuckling. To survive in his business an agent needed to be astute about people -- their characters, what they wanted, what drove them, how far they might go in the entertainment industry. Few had what it took to join the elite cadre of actors, directors, cinematographers, production designers and other top talent. Agents rarely backed a dark horse. The better the odds of their clients' success, the greater the commission revenue. Business was business. No successful agent afforded the luxury of marketing a dud.