Barnes
By the time I left the Crown Jewel of Beverly Hills, the sky was beginning to show the first signs of daylight. Purple and pink and orange colors swirled around behind the clouds, and the air felt fresh and clean in a way that felt new to me. Gianna and I had stayed up all night, laughing and making love and talking. I’d asked her for her phone number, but she’d declined.
“If we’re meant to be, we’ll see each other again,” was all she’d said, giving me a coy smile.
I didn’t like it, but I figured it was better than nothing. After all, I desperately wanted to see her again. She was young and sexy and lithe…not to mention charming and funny. And she obviously came from money. There had been more than one kneejerk moment when I’d realized that even if she never made it as an actress, she’d be more than fine.
I headed back to my condo and took a long shower. As reluctant as I was to wash the last traces of her heavenly body off of mine, I knew that I reeked of pussy and I couldn’t exactly show up to meet Thomas smelling like sex.
That afternoon, I met Thomas at a trendy restaurant with exclusively outdoor seating. A cute waitress in high-waisted shorts and a crop top beamed at me as she showed us to our table.
“Did you see that?” Thomas complained as soon as she’d walked away. “She didn’t even look at me.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s because she knows I’m single,” I said with a smirk. “Trust me, I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it.”
Thomas sank down into the wicker chair and sighed. “I need a drink,” he said. “Or like, ten.”
The waitress reappeared, still smiling. “What can I get you two?”
“A pitcher of margaritas,” Thomas said. “And that’s just for me.”
“He’s kidding,” I said. “But that sounds good. I’ll have a glass, too.”
The waitress nodded. She smiled and winked at me. “We make the best margaritas here,” she said, somehow twisting the words to sound seductive. “I’m sure you’ll love them.”
“I’m sure we will,” I said drily.
As soon as she was gone, Thomas gave me an angry look. “See,” he said. “I wasn’t lying. You’re getting so much attention here, damn.”
“We’re here to talk about you,” I said evenly. I pulled out my favorite notepad and pen – even in the age of paper-thin laptops, I always preferred paper – and flipped it to a clean page.
“Yeah, and how my life is in shambles,” Thomas grumbled. “Well, I can do that. I just need a drink first.”
When the waitress came with our drinks, Thomas poured himself a huge glass and took a long sip before sighing contentedly and leaning back against his chair.
“So,” Thomas began. “How was last night? Did you get that girl’s number?”
“No,” I said, looking down at my pad of paper. “Stop getting off topic, Thomas. Tell me about Candy.”
“She wants over ten million in the divorce settlement,” Thomas said. He sighed moodily. “And I just don’t have that kind of money – not now.”
I frowned. “Did something happen?”
“Well, I have the money,” Thomas said. “But not in cash. It’s all tied up in investments. You know how that stupid burrito company went public a few months ago? Well, I bought a ton of stock…and then a ton of people got food poisoning from their lettuce. Stupidest decision I ever made, aside from marrying Candy, of course.”
I winced. “Ouch.”
“Yeah and that’s not everything,” Thomas continued. “She wants my property – the house I own in Malibu, and my yacht, and all three of my vintage cars.”
“She’s not getting that,” I said. “So, don’t worry. The two of you weren’t married for nearly long enough for the judge to award her that.”
“Well, she’s got to get something,” Thomas grumbled. “What do you think I have the best chance of keeping?”
I sighed. “You’re going to have to make an offer to her and make it sound like she’s getting the best end of the deal. I think you should give her the house.”
“What?” Thomas’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding!”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Thomas, trust me – I wish that was the case. But she’s not going to be satisfied with a boat and three cars. Offer her the house, and a small lump sum.”
“And then what about me?”
I shrugged. “Well, the judge could still rule in your favor…especially if you make such an attractive offer, it makes you look generous. She’s going to look greedy, and that’s not a good look. The two of you don’t have any children, she’s not pregnant, and you didn’t cheat on her.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Thomas said morosely. “California is a no-fault state.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Which makes you look even better, don’t you agree?” I raised an eyebrow at Thomas, and for the first time since we’d sat down, I saw that he looked almost relieved.
“Damn,” Thomas said. He whistled. “You’re good.”
I shrugged modestly. “I try,” I said. “And you know I’m here for you. Look, realistically, you’ll probably have to sell the house, pay her part of the sum, and keep the rest. Don’t worry about the rest of your property. Then you can buy a new place and make new memories there.”
Thomas rolled his eyes and took a long swig of his margarita, finishing his first glass. “You sound like a realtor,” he said, shaking his head.
I laughed. “God, I hope not,” I said.
“Seriously, man, I can’t thank you enough,” Thomas said. For once, his voice was serious and calm. “You’re saving my ass. I wish I could repay you.”
“You’ll repay me,” I joked. “Why not get me a gig writing a few scenes for that new soap you’re working on, what’s it called? Paradise Cave?”
Thomas laughed. “Heaven Cove,” he said. “And you can’t possibly be serious – do you know what those writers make? Practically nothing,” he added.
“No, I mean, I don’t want to do it full time,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “At least…I don’t think I do.”
Thomas snorted. “You mean, you actually want to be a writer?”
I shrugged, feeling embarrassed. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” I said. “And I always did enjoy writing…you know I just studied law for my father.”
Thomas stared at me for a long moment before nodding. “Okay,” he said. “You know what? I’ve got the script for next week here, why not take a look and write a couple of scenes?” He smirked. “Who knows, Barnes – maybe this is your true calling after all.”
I took the script from him and glanced down, flipping through the pages. I wouldn’t have admitted it to Thomas, but I was feeling pretty excited about the chance to try something new.
“Great,” I said. “Thanks, man.”
Thomas smirked. “No problem,” he said. “Besides, you’re getting all the girls out here…there are some pretty hot chicks on set.”
Instantly, a vision of Gianna popped into my head. “I bet there are,” I said. “But I’m not interested.”
“What?” Thomas squinted. “Are you crazy, man?”
“No,” I said. “Just not interested.”
--
When I got home, I flopped down on the couch and started reading through the copy of the script Thomas gave me. Immediately I realized that Heaven Cove wasn’t a typical soap opera – it was obviously meant for teenagers, with a lot of modern touches that the old soaps didn’t have. By the time I got to the end, I realized I was actually kind of enjoying it. Immediately, I took the script over to my desk and started making a few notes.
By the time I looked up from my work, it was dark outside. My stomach was empty, but my mind was filled with ideas – and I realized that for the first time in months, I was feeling truly happy. Maybe it was my all-night romp with Gianna, or maybe it was the tantalizing prospect of getting a second chance at a career, but something had certainly changed…and I loved it. I proofread the file, then emailed it over to Thomas. And while I didn’t want to get my hopes up, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d really stumbled onto something good.
Over the next few days, I felt the balloon of hope start to deflate in my chest. I knew it, I thought one late evening as I stood by one of the windows, watching over the canyon. I don’t have any talent. I’m not a writer, and I never will be. Just as I was walking into the kitchen to make myself a drink, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I frowned at the unfamiliar number before accepting the call and holding the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“I’m calling for a Barnes Harrington?”
I frowned. “This is he.”
“Barnes, this is Eric Knowles, I’m the executive producer of Heaven Cove. Thomas Winsell passed along the scenes you wrote a few days ago.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Thomas said he was just doing me a favor, but—“
“I’m calling to tell you that I fired one of the writers for Heaven Cove,” Eric said, cutting me off mid-sentence. “And I want you to replace him.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah, well, we loved what you wrote,” Eric said. “Can you come in next week?”
“Yeah, of course I can,” I said.
“And we’ll need six more scenes before then,” Eric said. “Don’t bother meeting with the other writer – I’m going to have Thomas email you everything that you’ll need.”
“Okay,” I said. “Yeah, that sounds great.”
“Good,” Eric replied. “I think we’ve got something really great here, really fresh. The ratings were starting to tank at the end of last season, so I think we can really turn things around.”
“I’m glad you think I’m the right man for the job,” I said.
“Yep,” Eric said curtly. He hung up, and I stared at the phone for a few moments, blinking.
Must be that weird LA rudeness everyone talks about, I thought before putting my phone back in my pocket.
After the initial shock faded, I couldn’t believe how happy I was. I realized that I’d been desperately hoping to hear from Eric, or someone like him, with similar news. And even though writing for a soap opera wouldn’t make me much money, I didn’t care – I still had plenty in the bank from my Boston firm, and I doubted that would change any time soon.
Maybe I’ll see Gianna again, I thought as I poured a few fingers of whiskey into a tumbler. She had mentioned that she was an aspiring actress…and what better way to meet actresses than working on the set of a trendy teen soap?
Maybe I was too hopeful, or maybe I was naïve. But either way, I couldn’t believe how excited I was to begin working on the set of Heaven Cove.