A new tension in Roe’s shoulders is the only thing to give him away. Those movies are the most anticipated films to come to Hollywood in ages. If he gets the lead, it would change the trajectory of an already stellar career.
“Why me?” Roe asks.
“If we team up, it’ll take Hollywood by storm.”
“What do you get out of it?”
“I’ll be the man that made James Roe a living legend. Think Bogart, Nicholson, Brando. More than a short-term, it-man. A serious career actor. Lasting power.”
“So long as they’re your films? Slingers Production Company only? Is that it?”
The other man nods smoothly. “We make enough movies and you could have your pick. From indie to blockbuster, whatever you want. You come work for me and I make you wealthy beyond your wildest dreams. I get you in places you don’t even know exist. Nobody can touch you.”
“And you want to do this out of the goodness of your heart?”
Zebulund stops tapping and forces Roe to hold his stare. “I would get exclusivity. You do my movies, my press junkets, etc.”
He makes it sound like that’s the real treat. And truthfully his production company, Slingers, is the biggest and most successful Hollywood franchise. I don’t understand Roe’s hesitation, unless this is some power play. Maybe he’s pirouetting on the inside.
“I’m interested but I’d like to hear more of the details.” Roe turns his head like he’s going to look in my direction.
Something about that movement causes me to shrink back toward the safety of the closet. I stay Under, even though I’m starting to feel like a dried-out husk.
“Good. Good to hear.” Zebulund stands. Okay, so conversation over. “Think on it. We’re both busy men. The price we pay, am I right?”
Roe stands too, with his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. “Too true.”
“I’m having a bit of a party on my yacht this weekend. Nothing crazy. A celebration of life. We can talk more details then. There’ll be food, booze, and…” he shrugs and thumbs his nose, “Anything else you might need to party.”
“Ah.”
This is good. This is really good. Roe’s being invited to an exclusive Zebulund Yacht party? These things are legendary. I steady myself. This doesn’t change anything, Roe was invited, not me. And yet, I’ve got a good feeling about this.
“Not a lot of people have this number. Keep it to yourself.” Zebulund slides a card to Roe, who tucks it into the breast pocket of his tee.
How close would I need to get to try to slide that out? I’ve had worse jobs over the years than trying to feel up James Roe.
“Will do,” Roe says.
“I expect to see you this weekend.” Zebulund speaks as though it’s already written.
Roe responds with a tight smile.
“Feel free to bring that assistant of yours.”
They walk toward the exit and I keep myself tucked behind the open door to the living room. I’m getting tired. I never know how long this power will last and the worst thing would be to collapse in a heap in front of these two. I squeeze my eyes shut. I came here with one goal and I can’t afford to be distracted… and yet if I can get to Roe, I can get to Zebulund. I need him to move. I need to go follow my Moby-is-a-huge-Dick while I’ve got a chance. This could be golden.
Zebulund leaves the suite. Roe’s holding the door open to watch him walk to the elevator. The door is wide open. I just need to sprint after him. And yet my feet aren’t moving. I’m frozen with indecision. It’s not like me. I need to make the right choice, but my gut instinct is the Scarecrow pointing both directions.
Zebulund is almost to the elevator. A cell phone rings and it adds to the stimulus overload as I try to make the smart choice. I look once more to the elevator and back to Roe as he answers the call.
I make my decision.
2
Roe
I dropto the edge of the bed as Mom takes a deep breath on the other end of the line. Whatever she’s about to say will be the cherry on top of this shit sundae weekend.
