GLASS_ A Standalone Novel - Arianne Richmonde Page 0,22
‘no’ has piqued his interest more than ever. He even scoured YouTube and found the video clip of you in Where The Wind Blows. He was about to call your agent, but I told him he should clear it with you first. He is offering you big money, Janie. He wants to cast you in the lead. I agree you’d be perfect. Call me, we need to talk.” No mention of Daniel. Hmm, wonder why?
The next was from Mr. Grease-Ball Big Shot himself. “Janie,” he said with a snort. At least he got my name right this time. “My Rambling Rose. I get it. I insulted you. I’m sorry. Please forgive an old producer and let’s call a truce. The show must go on. And Janie, you are the show. Or you could be. I’m a tit and ass man myself, so, you know, I didn’t quite get you at first. But I do now. Call me, honey. We need to do business.”
I stood up on the bed and pranced up and down punching the air, then stopped—didn’t want to break Star’s bed. But the grin on my face stretched so wide my jaw was beginning to ache. Yes!! They wanted me for the part. Holy smoke, this wasn’t another of my dreams, was it? I pinched myself to make sure, then I saw Star standing by the doorway, smiling.
“I take it you have good news, judging by that inane smirk on your face?”
“Pearl says they have an offer, I’d better call her back,” I said, grabbing my phone.
She prized the cellphone out of my hand. “Not so fast. I know I told you to call her back but . . . right now, as things stand? Let them stew a day longer.”
“A whole day? It’ll seem rude!”
“Trust me, the cooler you are, the higher the offer. If they’re talking money now, which they weren’t before, that means they’re worried. You told them ‘no.’ Your silence will make them open up to negotiation.”
Negotiation? “I’ve never played this game before, it makes me nervous.”
“That’s why I need you to meet my agent today. I’ll call—we can see her for a drink this evening, or have lunch. You need guidance. From now on, you do not discuss money. You are the show and your agent is the business.”
“That’s what Sam Myers said. That I’m the show. What’s your agent’s name by the way?”
“Cindy Specktor.”
“She sounds frightening.”
Star laughed. “Spektor with a K. No C. She is pretty intimidating though. But not with her clients. With us she’s a pussycat, but let’s just say she’s the kind of person you want on your side.”
“This is all so new to me. So surreal.”
“This industry is surreal, get used to it.”
“What about Paula, my New York agent?”
“Call her. But wait till you’ve seen Cindy first.”
“Cindy might not be interested in me.”
Star laughed again. “Boy, you really don’t understand Hollywood at all, do you?”
“Do I sound naïve?”
“Naïve is good. Naïve sells, don’t worry about it.”
“You sound so . . .”
“Jaded? Tough? I’m a product of a greedy moneymaking machine, honey, that is called the movie industry. I can read it like an open book. Get dressed, we need to get moving. Put something sexy on. Not too sexy, remember, you’re a brand now.”
“A brand?”
“All actors are a brand whether they’re aware of it or not.”
“And what the hell is my brand?”
“Classy, sexy ingénue with social proof.”
“What? You’re crazy, what on earth is social proof?” I laughed, and opened my suitcase, wondering what I should put on to meet the infamous Cindy Spektor.
“You have proven talent because of bragging rights to a Tony nomination. Social proof. You don’t need to persuade anyone you can act, the proof is already out there. Be ready in fifteen minutes.” Star sashayed out of the room, her sky-blue silk robe trailing behind her.
Her observations got me thinking. I had never thought of myself as some sort of “product” before, and it scared me. But also made me remember what she’d said about waiting tables. This was my one big break. I had to do things right or my luck could splinter. I felt disloyal meeting a new agent before I had even spoken to mine, but Star was right; Paula was great for theater but little else. She wouldn’t be able to swim with the Hollywood sharks, even rubbery-necked Jaws (Samuel Myers—fake and full of bullshit but still terrifying).
With all this swirling in my mind, I suddenly remembered I’d promised to call