Hollywood on the Danube

Chapter Thirteen

Beckett's was jumping as Jeremy and Billy had dinner. "You know your problem?" Jeremy offered without being asked. "You worry too much. I think that's your big problem." He'd picked up on Billy's anguish and was trying to soothe him. "It's going to work out fine," he said, trying to encourage him. 

Billy wished he wasn't so transparent. He just couldn't help it. Whether it was ego or neuroses, he bared his soul to anyone who'd listen. Even though Rose warned him Jeremy was too close to Rodney, Billy suggested that Rodney didn't have a clue what he was doing. Jeremy listened to it all and didn't defend Rodney much, except to say, "Trust me, he has a keen sense of what the territory's after." 

Enough said for now, that's what Billy thought, already wishing he'd kept his mouth shut. "I know Rodney's savvy," he said, trying to undo the damage. "I guess it's just a matter of getting used to his system." 

Why had he said anything? He tossed and turned all night. "But you never know how he'll put things," Rose's words came back to haunt him, as he began to have nightmares of Jeremy and Rodney's next conversation. 

"Oh, Billy, he's a good guy," his friend Jeremy would begin. "Of course, he doesn't think you know what you're doing." Or "Billy's a little worried. Mind you, I think he's only thinking of the show, but he's concerned a lot of your ideas are kind of balmy." Or "Billy thinks it's a good idea we're going to LA. That way we might learn how to properly write a serial." 

The next day at the office, in between panic attacks, Billy realized he hadn't spoken with Leslie, who he wanted to see on the weekend. He called her mother's firm, but was told she was out of the office. Leslie, what was he going to do with her? Even if she were interested in pursuing something sexual, would he be able to have a relationship with a girl half his age? He wanted to, he didn't want to, the thought seesawed in his mind, making him wonder if this wasn't a daisy petal picking quandary, what was? 

He went for a Coke and almost ran into Manfred. The big guy was all over the place, becoming increasingly valuable with a good eye for correcting the voluminous Hungarian errors. He was originally hired for only a week and had plans to go back to Los Angeles, returning for the first production block, after which his gig was over. While in LA, he'd agreed to get Billy some Sweet 'n Low, but now said he wouldn't be going because Frieda needed him there. 

"But don't worry," he said congenially, picking up on Billy's disappointment. "My girlfriend is coming and she will bring it." 

"Great," Billy said, attempting to cover his relief. "Tell her to get me the two fifty box. That'll keep me from getting diabetes for a little while." 

Manfred looked a little shocked and then chuckled when he realized it was a joke. "I almost thought you were quite ill, because you look a little pale," he said. Billy silently took umbrage, because he'd been sunning himself in the courtyard, but with the stress of his job and the early morning wakeups, when he looked in the men's room mirror he saw it was true. 

At the soda machine Billy gave Miklos the invoice for his first month's pay. "I hope you're going to get the money transferred to my bank soon," Billy said. "The British pound is really strong this week and I don't want to lose too much if the conversion rate goes down before you get around to it." 

"There is no problem, Billy," he said. "We will fix it at today's rate." 

"Of course it could go up in the time being, too," Billy said, thinking out loud. 

"Don't worry, your money won't get lost," Miklos replied, patting him gently. 

Billy certainly was more outspoken than average, but he had a legitimate reason. He was contractually bound to the Marshall Budapest subsidiary, which did business in Hungarian forints, but his salary and per diem were tied to the Pound Sterling. So the local bank first converted forints into Sterling and then the pound to the equivalent rate in U.S. dollars. A relatively small drop in the dollar against the pound, or the pound against the forint could mean hundreds of dollars at the rate Billy was making.