Page 21 of Love, Lines, and Alibis
“Did something happen to her?” I asked, an anxious tone in my voice.
“To the niece?” she asked, as if my question wasn’t the most relevant, and compassionate, to make at the moment.
“Yes, of course, to the niece,” I answered, trying not to sound exasperated.
“Oh, she’s fine,” Beatrice assured, minimizing whatever had happened. “But Dashing messed with the wrong twenty-something-year-old. Archie was beside himself and he even threatened Henry. Apparently, Charlize Theron taught him hand-to-hand combat.”
“Who? Henry?” I asked. I was getting lost in Beatrice’s Hollywood tale.
“Archie, of course! Why would Charlize want to teach anything to Henry? But Archie feels awful about the whole thing. I’ve been told he regrets his past maneuvering on Henry’s behalf.” Beatrice was whispering now, implying conspiracy.
“What past maneuvering?” And how did this woman always know everything?
“I was hoping you could tell me more about it, actually,” Beatrice went on. Apparently, she didn’t know everything after all. “As it pertains to something that happened to your not-boyfriend.”
“Who? David?” I was intrigued. What could my ex and my former boss’s producing partner have in common? Archie Eisenberg wasn’t even one of the producers working onLA Misconductswhen I was there. He’d joined after I left.
“Yes, the one you’reseeing,” she said, not even trying to conceal the insinuation. “When Archie started working onLA Misconducts, he did a lot to put the show on the map again, to make it look refreshed and cool. He was the one who got Dashing Henry the gig as the face of the city of Los Angeles that backfired a little on city hall.”
“Because they unveiled the campaign the same week David published the first article uncovering Henry,” I filled in. “I still can’t see what you’re hinting at.”
“Archie knew David was working on a damaging article against Henry, and he tried shushing it,” Beatrice explained. “He didn’t want the bad publicity after all the work he’d done revitalizing the popularity ofLA Misconducts.”
“Shushing it?”
“I’m told he went quite out of his way so that David’s piece wouldn’t get published. Archie wasn’t successful in the end, but I would love to have more details. If you ever find out...”
“Oh, you want me to ask David about it.”
“And indulge my gossip, yes. Information is a valuable tool in this town. Anyway, I didn’t call to gossip but to tell you that Fred wants to meet you to talk about the job.”
I felt a bit blindsided by the sudden change of conversation. “I still need to think about it.”
“Honey, you need to make a decision.” Beatrice sounded less pleased than before. “I can stall the meeting with Fred, but you need to give me an answer by tomorrow.”
I could give her an answer right then and there. But, if I said no, she’d drop me on the spot. What I could do was keep helping David report on this fucking bullshit murder and come up with a fresh-from-the-headlines treatment for her by tomorrow... or something similar.
“Why the rush?” I asked, trying to sound as professional and unbothered as possible.
“I’m going to the SAG Awards,” she said, referring to one of the many awards-season functions happening in the city from the beginning of the year and concluding with the Oscars. “Fred and Archie Eisenberg are also going to be there. They started working together only a couple of years ago, but they’ve been busy! They also produced that indie movie with Amelia Sanchez, and she’s nominated for it. I thought it was awful, but...”
I’d had it with the woman. Was she really trashing my friend’s work in front of me?
“Oops! You two are friends, right?” she asked.
“We are,” I said, trying to sound as stern as possible.
“But don’t you agree with me? I mean, she’s normally superb but this last movie of hers...” I was about to tell her how much I didn’t agree with her but, of course, she didn’t give me the opening. “Anyway, Fred is going to be there and then he’ll see me, and he’ll want to know whether you are taking the job in New York or not. It’s one thing to avoid people by phone, but in person... I can’t play hide and seek all night. I’m wearing Vera Wang!”
“Of course you can’t,” I said, and it came off a bit flippant, but can you blame me?
“Honey, I need an answer from you,” she repeated. “Either you come up with a script no one can say no to, or you take this offer.”
“And I promise you’ll have an answer,” I said.
“By tomorrow at 5 p.m.,” she replied. “I’m not taking any calls when the ceremony has started.”
It was going to be a tight deadline. But I thrived on them.
