Hollywood Hit (12 page)

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Authors: Maggie Marr

Tags: #FIC027020 FICTION / Romance / Contemporary; FIC044000 FICTION / Contemporary Women

BOOK: Hollywood Hit
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She smoothed her hand across her skirt and took a long breath. Yes. That was her entrance.

“Hi.” Her eyes darted from Lydia with her black hair pulled away from her face to Jessica with her sharp green eyes that missed nothing. Nikki’s gaze finally landed on Aunt Cici, who scrunched her mouth up and raised her eyebrows at her niece’s graceful entrance.

“I’ve done that before,” Lydia said and stood from behind her desk. Her smile was like a giant hug and Nikki’s shoulders relaxed with Lydia’s comment. She walked to Nikki and gave her a squeeze.

“Hang tough, sweety,” Lydia whispered into Nikki’s ear so softly that no one but Nikki could hear. “Have a seat,” Lydia said and pointed at a chair next to Aunt Cici.

Nikki settled beside her aunt. Her gaze flicked from one face to the next. She bit her bottom lip and waited for the hammer to hit her on the head. Jessica cleared her throat and leaned forward. A sweet smile was on her face, but Nikki knew from her aunt that Jessica could be as aggressive as a Rottweiler with a raw piece of flesh. Jessica was protective of Cici: her career, her image, her privacy. She’d steered Cici’s career to the meteoric heights Cici now inhabited.

“Nikki,” Jessica said, “there’s something we need to discuss with you.”

Nikki’s chest tightened and a chill rushed up her spine. “I already know why I'm here,” Nikki said. She sucked in her cheeks and her chin shot forward.

“You do?” Lydia asked. A look passed between her and Jessica.

“Bikram Shasta has reached out to you?” Jessica asked.

“What?” Nikki scrunched her eyes and tilted her head. “Who is Bikram Shasta?” Nikki thought the name sounded like a soda pop from India.

“Bikram Shasta is a film producer,” Lydia said.

“I don’t know him.” Nikki tossed her head to the side. “What does Bikram Shasta have to do with me leaving LA?”

“Leaving LA?” Cici leaned forward, and a sheet of golden hair fell from behind her ear. “What do you mean, leaving LA? Where are you going?” Cici clasped Nikki’s hand. “Why? What? You can’t leave Los Angeles.”

Surprise rushed through Nikki. This meeting wasn’t an intervention about her messed-up life? These four powerful and put-together women weren’t all seated in the Albright Productions bungalow to tell Nikki that she absolutely didn’t have her shit together and must go?

“I thought…” The hot, righteous anger that percolated through her chest over being shunned turned cool. She caught a quick breath and looked at first Jessica and then Aunt Cici. “I thought you wanted me to leave. That… that I was causing so much trouble… too much trouble… and I needed to go somewhere far away. Somewhere where there aren’t photographers and dead men in swimming pools and rock stars, somewhere that me being a complete fuckup doesn’t cause so many problems for you.” Aunt Cici’s hand looked fuzzy behind the hot tears watering Nikki's eyes. She wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t cry. She didn’t want to cry here in front of Lydia and Jessica and Christina.

“Oh, Nikki.” Cici grasped Nikki’s fingers between both her hands. “Oh, sweety, no. I don’t want you to leave.” She glanced over her shoulder at Jessica. “
We
don’t want you to leave.” Aunt Cici locked her blue eyes onto Nikki’s face and pulled Nikki’s hands toward her heart. “I couldn’t imagine my life without you in it.”

Relief poured through Nikki and for a moment, she basked in the attention of her superstar aunt. The fear that had clung to Nikki with the thought of being thrown away and tossed aside slid from her.

“Then why am I here?” Nikki asked.  She raised her right eyebrow. “Why are all of you here?”

Jessica glanced at Lydia and Lydia looked at Christina and Christina angled her chin toward Aunt Cici, and finally all their gazes locked on Nikki. Each woman wore her personal rendition of an uncomfortable smile.

Jessica cleared her throat. “You’re familiar with the script
Boundless Bound
?”

Nikki’s heart pitched upward and bumped into her throat. The calm she’d settled into broke loose with the mention of the screenplay.

Familiar?

Familiar wasn’t quite the right word. Familiar meant you had heard of something in passing. Familiar meant you kind of knew something. Familiar was not reading the script thirty-five times, providing four sets of detailed notes to the writer-director, meeting with the writer-director a half dozen times to go over the notes plus convincing, cajoling, coaxing, and hoping he would take your notes so that the script and story became better and tighter and more ready to shoot and attract cast and financing.

No. Nikki was not
familiar
with
Boundless Bound
—she knew this screenplay inside and out.

“Jeb Schmaltzer’s script.” With the passage of Jeb’s name over Nikki’s lips, an image of dead Jeb floating face-first in the pool catapulted through Nikki’s mind. She tried to shove the picture of that night way to the back of her brain. “I gave Jeb four rounds of development notes on the project. We were… he was…” Her mind swirled. The memories of that night not too long ago pushed forward, forced their way upward from the depths to which Nikki continued to expel them. Nikki pressed the fingers of her left hand to her forehead. “We were meant to discuss casting that night.”

“It would seem that Jeb was appreciative of all your work,” Jessica said.

Nikki pulled her hand away from her brow. She didn’t understand. They had never papered the deal. Jeb had never offered her any kind of credit on the film. She’d hoped that if she proved herself either by attaching cast or finding financing that Jeb would give her at least a co-producer credit, and at most, if she proved herself of value in putting the film together (fingers crossed) a producer credit. They’d never had a formal conversation about Nikki’s compensation or credit.

“Was there paper between you?” Lydia asked.

Nikki shook her head. She couldn’t option the property and she didn’t have a film fund or a strong equity relationship other than Aunt Cici’s husband, Ted. She might have taken
Boundless Bound
to Ted eventually, but the script hadn’t been quite there. This last pass by Jeb had gotten the script close. They’d been nearly ready to attach cast and find the dough.

“Jeb seemed to think you understood his vision for
Boundless Bound
better than anyone else,” Jessica said.

“I don’t understand.” Confusion swept through Nikki and she looked across the room to Christina. “Will someone please explain what I have to do with
Boundless Bound
now that Jeb is dead and why we’re all here and what you mean when you say that I understood Jeb’s vision?”

“Darling”—Aunt Cici clapped her hand onto Nikki’s thigh—“it would seem that Jeb wasn’t as nearly full of shit as I might have thought. He did find a producer. A producer with a fund.”

“Bikram Shasta,” Jessica said.

“Bikram optioned
Boundless Bound
,” Lydia said.

“How does that impact me?” Nikki’s shoulders pulled upward and her back tensed. She loved the script, but her prospect of working on the project had died with Jeb.

“Well,” Cici said, “Jeb left the rights to the script to you.”

“To me?” Nikki jerked her head back. “Who does that?”

“Jeb Schmaltzer,” Jessica said. “Seems it was a pattern. Every time he wrote a script, he added a codicil to his will.”

“But why me?”

“I’m guessing because you impressed him. You impressed him with your notes and how you envisioned the project.”

“Your notes sure as hell impressed me,” Lydia murmured.

Nikki glanced from Lydia to Jessica. She was still confused. She was now the proud owner of an unfinanced script that a producer with a fund had interest in making, but that was still a long way from a green light. There was no director, no cast, no distribution, no… no nothing. While she was flattered,
Boundless Bound
the way it currently existed, without any attachments, was about as useful as her Toyota. The project could get around town, but it definitely wasn’t flashy.

“Okay, great,” Nikki said and folded her arms across her chest. “I’m flattered, and maybe I’ll get to work with Bikram to try to put the film together.” Her eyes glanced around the room. “Right?”

“Right,” Lydia said and nodded.

All the women again looked at each other and exchanged that same look. A look that caused a chill to begin at Nikki’s toes and curl its way all the way up her spine. There was more. More information that these four Industry heavy hitters knew and hadn’t yet told Nikki.

Jessica the attorney and former agent finally spoke. “Here’s the thing. Worldwide wants the script, contingent upon cast.”

“And JP Anderson wants to direct the film,” Lydia added.

“JP Anderson wants to direct
Boundless Bound
?” Nikki slowly sank backward into the leather couch with the realization that a hip, hot director who had himself been nominated for an Oscar and who had also managed to get his last three leading ladies nominated wanted to do her film. This was big. A huge leap forward in getting
Boundless Bound
made, but the project still wasn’t to the goal line.

“We still need cast,” Nikki whispered. “We need a cast, and cast is so hard… But with JP Anderson, I mean we should be able to attract an actress.” Nikki’s gaze jumped from Jessica to Christina to Lydia, hoping that these women who worked in film, succeeded in film, would say 'Yes, of course you will get your film made.'

“The project has already attracted an A-level actress,” Jessica said and slid her eyes toward Cici.

“Darling.” Cici leaned forward. Her giant smile consumed her face. “I want to star in your film. I want to be in
Boundless Bound
.”

Nikki closed her eyes. Oh shit, she had just become Aunt Cici’s boss.

 

 

Chapter 18
The Tower of Power

 

“Don’t be nervous,” Lydia said and leaned in toward Nikki. “It’s Mike, you’ve met him a dozen times, he’s married to Jessica, and he wants the film. The meeting is a formality.”

Nikki shifted from her left foot to her right. A formality? She was meeting with the head of the world’s biggest film studio in his palatial office to discuss rushing
Boundless Bound
into production. Nikki breathed deep. A star like Aunt Cici, a world-class director, and a great piece of material could get a movie a green light. Plus it didn’t hurt that the star’s husband, Ted Robinoff, owned the studio.

“Nikki!” Mike said and rushed across the giant expanse of his gargantuan office. He reached out both hands and clasped both of hers into his. He glanced from Jessica to Cici and his expression seemed to ask “Where are we on this?” Next Mike greeted Cici, then Lydia, and saved the final greeting and a real kiss for his wife, Jessica.

Once they were settled into Mike’s sitting area with his plush suede couches and comfy chairs, a fruit plate, varied waters, and juices on the table in front of them, the business began.

“So, Nikki, Worldwide wants to make
Boundless Bound
. I love the script, Cici loves the script, and DP Anderson loves the script.”

Nikki pressed her fingernails into her palms. Was this happening—how was this happening? She’d driven her rickety Toyota onto the lot, pretty sure she would be packing it up with her tiny amount of stuff later that day and heading back east to Tennessee. But instead, she sat across from the president of production; next to her aunt, one of the world’s biggest stars; her aunt’s manager, one of Hollywood’s most powerful women; and across from Lydia, one of entertainment's  most successful producers, discussing how Worldwide was going to fast-track her film.

“I know you’ve garnered some experience as a PA over the last four months. Your aunt told me about the music videos you’ve worked on as well as some short films.”

Nikki nodded. While she’d enjoyed the work, this film with Worldwide Studios would be nothing like patching those shoestring productions together.

“What we’d like to do is keep you as a producer as well as Bikram, since he originally brought us the project.” Mike nodded his head toward Lydia. “And if you’re agreeable to it, we’d also like to put Lydia on the film as a producer.”

Nikki’s heart actually slowed and for the first time since she’d entered the bungalow, the steel vise around her rib cage loosened and Nikki could breathe.

“Thank you,” Nikki whispered. She met Lydia’s gaze—she felt safe with Lydia. With Lydia’s expertise and experience, Nikki knew
Boundless Bound
would be the best film it could be.

“Normally we’d offer your aunt a producer’s credit, but she’s graciously stepped aside for Lydia as she felt it was in the best interest of the film.”

Nikki clasped Aunt Cici’s hand. And the best interest of Nikki. Technically, with Nikki’s limited experience, Cici could have argued to bump Nikki to executive producer, a much lesser credit with a limited role, but as producer on the film Nikki would have a bigger role. Yet with Lydia she would be safe and the film would be safe, and Nikki would learn about making movies from one of the best producers in the business. Her aunt was giving her a generous gift, and this was a gift that, now, after the death of Jeb and thinking that she was being banished from Hollywood, that  Nikki was willing to accept.

“We’d like to go into prep late next week.”

Nikki gasped. When a studio wanted something—everything moved fast.

“We have two more things to sort out.” Mike’s eyes bounced from Nikki to Cici. “First, your aunt wants Jackson Nichols for the male lead.”

Nikki chewed her bottom lip. Jackson Nichols was a brilliant actor and he’d survived Hollywood for over three decades. “But he hasn’t done a film in—”

“Five years,” Cici said. She smiled and wiggled her foot.

Mike’s eyebrow plucked upward and a smile curved across his lips. “Celeste seems confident she can convince Jackson to do the film.”

“I can,” Aunt Cici said. Her gaze flitted around the room from friend to friend. “What? I can and I won’t even have to fuck him to get him to do it.”

Lydia smiled. “Good luck with that, Cici,” Lydia said. “I’ve thrown the best we’ve got at Jackson and he hasn’t bitten—not even once.”

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