Jeff. I remember now,” Lydia whispered. “Were you there when …”
“When the shit hit the fan? Oh, yeah … I was on the call.”
Lydia muffled a giggle. It was all a little funny. Arnold here, celebrating Weston’s death and taking Weston’s job as president of Worldwide. Lydia making a movie that Arnold hated and Weston loved. And now this, sitting at Weston’s funeral next to Arnold’s former assistant who had been privy to the whole event that triggered Lydia and Arnold’s infamous feud.
“You know he’s never forgiven me,” Lydia whispered.
“Forgiven you ?” Jeff cocked and eyebrow surprise on his face. “You’re kidding, right?”
Everyone around them stood. The service was finally finished. Lydia turned to Jeff. “What do you do now? You obviously aren’t an assistant any longer.”
“Acquisitions and distribution for Galaxy.”
“I never realized that you were the same guy who was once Arnold’s assistant.”
“Yeah, well, I try not to advertise. I hear you’re going into production. I love the final draft of Seven Minutes Past Midnight . Great writer.”
“We got lucky. Found her writing. sample in the slush pile. Can you believe it? Never happens. You should come by set. We’re at Worldwide, stage thirty-six. Let me know, I’ll get you a drive-on.”
“Love to. Good seeing you Lydia,” Jeff said.
“You as well.” Lydia edged toward the Birnbaum family, where Celeste and Jessica stood waiting to speak with Beverly.
“Who’s that hottie?,” Celeste asked and tilted her Versace sunglasses down to check out Jeff. “He looks like Redford when Redford was young.”
“Jeff Blume,” Lydia said.
“Acquisitions and distribution at Galaxy,” Jessica said while typing an e-mail on her BlackBerry. It was part of her job as an agent to know every “player” in town and where they were currently employed.
“Yes, and Arnold Murphy’s former assistant,” Lydia said.
“Not that Jeff Blume,” Celeste said.
“The one and only,” Lydia said.
“No wonder the little leprechaun can’t take his eyes off you, Lydia,” Jessica nodded in the direction of Arnold Murphy and Josanne. “I’m sure he thinks you’re plotting something. He’s such a paranoid freak.”
“I’m going to need a drink after this,” Celeste said. “I hate funerals.”
“I’m up for it.” Lydia pulled a tissue from her purse and again dabbed under her eyes. Why did she keep crying? Celeste wrapped a protective arm around Lydia and squeezed.
“Fine,” Jessica said, scrolling through her e-mails on her BlackBerry. “Where?” She started tapping away.
“Let’s do Spago for Weston,” Celeste said.
They watched as the knot of people speaking to Beverly Birnbaum untangled. Six feet tall with closely cropped black hair, Beverly was a commanding presence. She’d inherited her father’s amazing taste in scripts and movies as well as his deep, infectious laugh. Beverly was also sincere and truthful; both qualities were unfortunately rare finds in the film business. She was one of Lydia’s favorite people in the industry.
Celeste threw her arms around Beverly. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks, Cici.”
“He was so much damn fun! Look, I’m going to cry again,” Celeste said, pulling a tissue from her clutch.
Beverly turned her gaze to Jessica, who’d discreetly slipped her BlackBerry into her purse. “Jessica, thanks for coming. I know you two could really go at it sometimes when you were negotiating a deal, but my dad had tremendous respect for you. He said there was never a better agent in this town. He loved how you fought for your clients.” She leaned in and hugged Jessica.
“You know I loved him—we all did,” Jessica said.
Beverly looked at Lydia. “I know.”
Lydia looked at the ground, her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. Celeste gently took Lydia’s hand. “We’ll see you there, okay?” She and Jessica drifted away toward their cars.
Lydia nodded. She
“When the shit hit the fan? Oh, yeah … I was on the call.”
Lydia muffled a giggle. It was all a little funny. Arnold here, celebrating Weston’s death and taking Weston’s job as president of Worldwide. Lydia making a movie that Arnold hated and Weston loved. And now this, sitting at Weston’s funeral next to Arnold’s former assistant who had been privy to the whole event that triggered Lydia and Arnold’s infamous feud.
“You know he’s never forgiven me,” Lydia whispered.
“Forgiven you ?” Jeff cocked and eyebrow surprise on his face. “You’re kidding, right?”
Everyone around them stood. The service was finally finished. Lydia turned to Jeff. “What do you do now? You obviously aren’t an assistant any longer.”
“Acquisitions and distribution for Galaxy.”
“I never realized that you were the same guy who was once Arnold’s assistant.”
“Yeah, well, I try not to advertise. I hear you’re going into production. I love the final draft of Seven Minutes Past Midnight . Great writer.”
“We got lucky. Found her writing. sample in the slush pile. Can you believe it? Never happens. You should come by set. We’re at Worldwide, stage thirty-six. Let me know, I’ll get you a drive-on.”
“Love to. Good seeing you Lydia,” Jeff said.
“You as well.” Lydia edged toward the Birnbaum family, where Celeste and Jessica stood waiting to speak with Beverly.
“Who’s that hottie?,” Celeste asked and tilted her Versace sunglasses down to check out Jeff. “He looks like Redford when Redford was young.”
“Jeff Blume,” Lydia said.
“Acquisitions and distribution at Galaxy,” Jessica said while typing an e-mail on her BlackBerry. It was part of her job as an agent to know every “player” in town and where they were currently employed.
“Yes, and Arnold Murphy’s former assistant,” Lydia said.
“Not that Jeff Blume,” Celeste said.
“The one and only,” Lydia said.
“No wonder the little leprechaun can’t take his eyes off you, Lydia,” Jessica nodded in the direction of Arnold Murphy and Josanne. “I’m sure he thinks you’re plotting something. He’s such a paranoid freak.”
“I’m going to need a drink after this,” Celeste said. “I hate funerals.”
“I’m up for it.” Lydia pulled a tissue from her purse and again dabbed under her eyes. Why did she keep crying? Celeste wrapped a protective arm around Lydia and squeezed.
“Fine,” Jessica said, scrolling through her e-mails on her BlackBerry. “Where?” She started tapping away.
“Let’s do Spago for Weston,” Celeste said.
They watched as the knot of people speaking to Beverly Birnbaum untangled. Six feet tall with closely cropped black hair, Beverly was a commanding presence. She’d inherited her father’s amazing taste in scripts and movies as well as his deep, infectious laugh. Beverly was also sincere and truthful; both qualities were unfortunately rare finds in the film business. She was one of Lydia’s favorite people in the industry.
Celeste threw her arms around Beverly. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks, Cici.”
“He was so much damn fun! Look, I’m going to cry again,” Celeste said, pulling a tissue from her clutch.
Beverly turned her gaze to Jessica, who’d discreetly slipped her BlackBerry into her purse. “Jessica, thanks for coming. I know you two could really go at it sometimes when you were negotiating a deal, but my dad had tremendous respect for you. He said there was never a better agent in this town. He loved how you fought for your clients.” She leaned in and hugged Jessica.
“You know I loved him—we all did,” Jessica said.
Beverly looked at Lydia. “I know.”
Lydia looked at the ground, her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. Celeste gently took Lydia’s hand. “We’ll see you there, okay?” She and Jessica drifted away toward their cars.
Lydia nodded. She
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