City of Angels

Chapter 4

Once again, many thanks to my faithful readers! Whether you comment directly on the story or message me privately, I am always happy to hear from you. :)

A/N: For the purposes of this story, I have aged Don DaGradi down somewhat. Whereas in the movie he is in his early fifties, in this story he is somewhere between thirty-five and forty years old. (If you're familiar with The West Wing and/or Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, picture something like Josh Lyman in the later seasons or Danny Tripp with auburn hair.)

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The next morning at 9:27 sharp, I stood waiting outside the front door of the hotel with my purse on my arm, my shoulders squared, and my head held high, ready to take on the world—or so I tried to convince myself.

Taking a deep breath, I smoothed my hands down the front of my royal blue tweed business dress with the sleeves that came halfway down my upper arms. Knowing what I knew about the Walt Disney company and how it was run, I'd packed plenty of semi-casual outfits to wear in the coming days; but today I was most concerned about making a good first impression, and for that the blue tweed dress was perfect. Stylish yet sober, it was my go-to for whenever I needed to look strikingly professional. It came with a matching jacket, which I wore draped over my shoulders lest I overheat with my arms in the sleeves. A large black barrette held my wavy brown hair back in a low ponytail, and a pair of shiny black two-inch pumps completed the look.

With a sigh, I opened my purse and drew out the ladies' wristwatch that I kept in there because I couldn't stand wearing it on my wrist. I checked the time—9:28. Any minute now.

Squinting slightly, I gazed out beyond the overhang. The morning air was refreshingly mild, but the bright sunshine promised another torrid California spring day. I wasn't unaccustomed to heat—our Iowa summer temperatures often reached the mid-eighties—but I had always preferred cooler weather. As a child, I loved to go out on the porch after a summer thunderstorm and smell the freshly-cleared air and feel the breeze on my cheek. I'd look out at the lilac, azalea, and rhododendron bushes that surrounded the house, and I'd smile to myself when I saw the heat-oppressed flowers finally perking back up, daring to breathe once more. The sun beat them down, but the rain brought them back. The rain brought life.

Shaking myself out of contemplation, I checked my watch again. 9:30. And, sure enough, I looked up to see Ralph's car pull in under the overhang, right on the dot. He hopped out, beaming like a ray of sunshine himself. "Good morning, Miss Schultz!"

"Good morning," I replied, smiling back at him. "How are you today?"

"Oh, just right as rain, Miss Schultz. And how 'bout yourself?"

"I'm doing well . . ." . . . I think. In all honesty, I had to admit to myself that beneath my formidable exterior, I was, from head to toe, a nervous wreck—but I wasn't about to let it show. I took a deep breath and drew myself up a little straighter.

By now Ralph had come around the back of the car to where I stood. "Yeah, today's the big day, huh? Walt Disney Studios, home of the big man himself—boy, won't that be exciting!"

"That it will be," I agreed.

Still smiling, he opened the door for me to get in. "Hey, the sun came out again," he remarked, gesturing towards the bright, cloudless sky.

Though I'd already seen it, I glanced out once more in the direction he'd indicated. "Indeed," I murmured.

"You like the sunshine?" he asked.