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John hoped to one day reach the same lofty heights.
The studio’s office building was known as The Golden Tower. The windows were covered in a reflective amber film, making the tall building look like a shimmering, golden monolith. The executive commissary was on the top floor, with a private dining room for the stars and major studio players. It had been a year since John had earned his way into the exclusive eatery, and he loved the prestige that came with it.
It was a long way from the streets of Brooklyn.
As President and CEO of Continental Pictures, Jerry’s office occupied a corner suite boasting floor to ceiling windows offering extraordinary views. Framed posters of Jerry’s favorite films graced the walls, and the office offered a gleaming mahogany conference table and a conversation pit. As Jerry settled behind his glossy black, oval desk, John imagined himself there one day—the man with the power. But as he sat down, he was uneasy.The Tea Cupwas over budget, and the buck stopped with him—literally.
“The Jennifer Olsen problem has been resolved,” Jerry began. “You must remember, you cannot allow these narcissistic stars to ruin a production. Always make sure they know they’re replaceable. Now, John,” he continued, lowering his voice, “I’ve decided to cut back, and I’ll be delegating more responsibility to you.”
“Thank you, Jerry,” John said gratefully, hoping his surprise didn’t show. After all the problems withThe Teacup,it was the last thing he expected. “I’ll put in as many hours as you need.”
“I know you will. Ah—good, here’s the coffee,” Jerry declared as a young woman entered carrying a tray with a decanter, condiments and a basket of pastries.
“I didn’t see you ask for any coffee?”
“It’s delivered here every morning at eight-thirty.”
As she placed it on the table by the couch, Jerry rose from his chair and gestured for John to join him.
“I’d like to spend some time with you outside the office,” Jerry said as he settled into the couch. “You live in Malibu near me, don’t you?”
“Yes I do,” John replied, pouring coffee for them both.
“Tia and I will have you and your wife over soon. I understand they’re friends. What’s her name again?”
“Stella,” John answered, thinking her sweetness and knockout body was sure to please his boss.
“Matt Montgomery is having that party this weekend. I assume you and your wife will be attending. I don’t usually go to these things, but his show has hit the number one spot across the country. I have to be there.”
Biting into a warm bran muffin, John glanced across at the magnificent view. The coffee was hot and rich, and the overstuffed easy chair wrapped itself around his body like a warm embrace. He sighed contentedly.
“One more thing,” Jerry said solemnly, snatching John’s attention. “You’ve had a meteoric rise, and it’s well deserved, don’t take anything for granted. The waters are warm and inviting, but they’re full of sharks.”
“Thanks, Jerry, I’ll remember that, but I came from the streets of Brooklyn. The sharks there are bigger and meaner.”
“Ah, but John, on the streets of Brooklyn you can see them coming.”
