Bruce Wagner - Still Holding

“Goodie!” said Cassandra, clapping her hands. “Can you do that for us?”

“Not a problem.”

“Does that cost a lot?”

“A few thousand dollars.”

“We want to get into music publishing too — we want to own catalogs. Rodrigo said that’s where the real money is.”

“If the soundtrack of one of our movies takes off,” said Grady, eyes on the prize, “we want to be ready. ”

“We know lots of movie people,” said Cassandra. “Actors and directors — agents and managers too. Hey, they come to us. Jimmy Caan calls us Playboy Mansion East.”

“We live up on Mulholland, right across from Jack.”

“We started renting the house out for movie locations — the Strokes are doing a video tomorrow, and Drew Barrymore might be there cause she’s going out with someone in the band — but not cause we need the money. It’s a cool way to make connections. It’s all about networking.”

“We’re right across from Jack Nicholson.”

“You already told him that, fool!”

“And Brando. We keep asking him to come over, and one day he will. He don’t answer the phone. He’s famous for that. We heard you gotta leave a message on the machine for his pet rat or somethin. That’s the only way he’ll pick up.”

“We tried that. But he ain’t called back.”

“Oh he will. I know he will,” said Grady, winking at Reggie like a crazed hillbilly. “Cause he’s stone nuts. And he knows we’re crazy enough for him to want to get to know us. We’re his people!”

“Mr. Marck,” said Cassandra. “If you can help us with the legal then we can have more of a foundation. Cause we’re already lookin at scripts. Gonna put up a whole Web site like Kevin Spacey did so unknowns can submit screenplays.”

“Tha’s right.”

“Gonna be all over Sundance. Want to do us a Project Greenlight too. But right now we couldn’t get nothin goin if we wanted to. Rodrigo said we need an ‘entity.’ ”

“Like a poltergeist!” said Grady.

“ Can it, goon,” she said, kicking at him.

“What you’ve got to do,” said Reggie, “is come up with a name for the corporation. Lisanne will send the papers to Sacramento, and they’ll do a search, for clearance. If the name isn’t being used, you’re good to go.”

“Can we put you on retainer for company business?”

“You know, unfortunately, much as I’d like to, I wouldn’t be able to take you on — that’s not really my thing. But I’ll happily refer you to someone who has that kind of day-to-day architecture already in place.”

“Cool,” said Cassandra. “We like architecture!”

“Ain’t it cool?” said Grady, doing his Travolta.

“We already come up with a name,” said his wife, proudly. “For the entity.”

She rested a hand atop her gigantic stomach and smiled. Grady reached over to pat her swollen fingers.

“QuestraWorld,” he said, beaming.

“QuestraWorld Film and Television Productions,” Cassandra added. “Incorporated.”

The Life of a Working Actress

SHE LAY ON a towel, on a Six Feet Under gurney.

They’d brought her in for another show. This time, the casting lady said that her face would probably be featured. Becca wondered if one of the actors who’d hit on her had arranged it. That seemed a little far-fetched.

She was bewildered that Rusty had been so harsh when she tried to tell him her good news. It came as a shock that he could be so insecure. But then she felt bereft and asinine, because she really knew nothing about this man. The first time she saw him, he was beating up some pathetic look-alike! She wondered if she should be afraid. With a shiver, she flashed on Grady trying to shoehorn his dick inside her. An upside-down Rusty looked into her eyes while reaching over to put his hands on her legs, spreading them for his friend. Thank God Grady was too loaded to do anything. Rusty was panting, and she could tell how much it excited him to be pimping her. (She still hadn’t told Annie.) That’s the kind of person she was dealing with. The man she’d fallen in love with.

Her back was killing her. When they were done shooting, she decided to treat herself to a massage. She was calling Burke Williams on her cell when Annie rang through. She said Becca should drive over to the theater on Delongpre right now —Kit Lightfoot was inside, rehearsing with Jorgia Wilding.

• • •

THEY SAT IN Annie’s car smoking and waiting.

“What are they rehearsing for?”

“I don’t know. I think a movie. Cyrus didn’t say. I don’t think he knows.”

“Are you sleeping with him?”

“With Kit Lightfoot?”

“Heh heh.”

“Oh! You mean with Cyrus.”

“No, I meant with Jorgia.”

“Hey, if it would make me a better actress…” They laughed, then Annie reconsidered the question. “Cyrus and I? We’re kind of sleeping together.”

“I love that. ‘Kind of.’ ”

“Kinda sorta. Are you sleeping with your friend?”

Becca nodded reluctantly.

“Well that’s not very enthusiastic,” said Annie.

“Oh, it’s pretty enthusiastic all right.”

“Really,” said Annie, intrigued.

“Be careful,” said Becca, putting it back on Annie. “I mean, he’s the director. ”

“I know. It’s that old saying, ‘Don’t shit where you act.’ ”

“It’s much harder to find a good acting company than it is someone to fuck.”

There was movement at the front door of the theater. A worker-type came out — false alarm.

“I’m gonna split,” said Becca. “Are you staying?”

“Guess I’ll go. And don’t tell anyone about this.”

“About what?”

“Kit Lightfoot! It’s supposed to be a total secret. ”

“You should come get a massage with me.”

“Where?”

“Burke Williams.”

“I’m going to Koreatown for a sauna. It’s cheaper.”

• • •

WHILE BECCA GOT rubbed, her thoughts drifted lazily to the Colony. She fantasized that the look-alike movie was a big hit. Charlie Kaufman had written a part especially for her, and Rusty was OK with that because now Rusty was famous too. He and Becca were known in the magazines as having one of those reliably unreliable on-again, off-again relationships like Ben and Gwyneth, pre-J. Lo. But they would always be great friends. She was in Malibu, at a party at Spike and Sofia’s. George Clooney and Nicole Kidman were there, and Pink and Drew and Leo and Kirsten and Tobey. Sofia’s cousin Nic Cage was grilling Becca a hamburger while they talked to Charlie K about something funny that had happened during the making of Adaptation. She was walking on the beach with the wise and amazing Shirley MacLaine (always one of her faves, and her mom’s too) and Francis Coppola, and Becca told the director how much she loved Rumble Fish and how she’d always thought of herself as the girl floating above the classroom. Then Becca was on Leno telling the already famous story of once being hired by Cameron Diaz as a Drew Barrymore look-alike for a surprise birthday party for Drew and how funny and ironic that was because of course now she and Cameron and Drew were thisclose, with Becca having subsequently been cast in A Confederacy of Dunces . Critics said she’d stolen all her scenes.

The masseuse dug too deep, interrupting Becca’s pleasant jag. She was the type who never really listened when you said you wanted it light; you could tell them a hundred times and they’d just keep digging. For the rest of the rub, Becca tensed beneath the onslaught.