Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Also by Heather Silvio
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue
About the Author
LIGHTS,
CAMERA,
ACTION
Paranormal
Talent Agency
Episode One
HEATHER SILVIO
Panther Books
Published in the United States by Panther Books, Las Vegas.
Contact the publisher at:
[email protected]
Correspondence to the author may be sent to: [email protected]
Cover design by Sonia Freitas at Chloe Belle Arts
https://www.facebook.com/ChloeBelleArts
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 Heather Silvio
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.
ISBN (Print) 978-0-9908005-9-0
ISBN (E-book) 978-1-7326938-2-1
ALSO BY HEATHER SILVIO
PARANORMAL TALENT AGENCY
Reset to One (Episode Two)
That’s a Wrap (Episode Three)
NON-SERIES FICTION
Not Quite Famous: A Romantic Comedy of an Actress on the Edge
Beyond the Abyss: Tales of the Supernatural
Courting Death
NONFICTION
Special Snowflake Syndrome: The Unrecognized Personality Disorder Destroying the World
Happiness by the Numbers: 9 Steps to Authentic Happiness
Stress Disorders: A Healing Path for PTSD
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to everyone who supported this series from its original inception to completion. Special thank you to my brand new beta readers!
CHAPTER ONE
“Las Vegas?” I asked the question slowly. This could be an amazing career move, but I loved New York City. I rubbed my hands over the soft leather of the office couch on which I perched at the edge. I was delaying my response. Las Vegas? It was hard to imagine that people actually lived there.
“Catherine. Don’t overthink it. What does your gut say? Do you want to establish the West Coast arm of the Peterson Talent Agency in Las Vegas?” Sidney Peterson asked again, green eyes watching me analyze the opportunity in my head. He knew, despite his directive to the contrary, I was absolutely a think-before-I-speak kind of woman.
I stood and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows of Sidney’s office. The spectacular view of the city never failed to mesmerize. My mind whirled with possibilities and my stomach tightened with anxiety. Or maybe exhilaration? If Sidney was right, and he believed he was, this would be an incredible opportunity to get in on the ground floor.
With the proposed increase in tax incentives provided by the state of Nevada, many in the entertainment world believed that significantly more production companies would start filming in the state, and that the existing talent agencies might not quite be ready to handle the influx of larger projects. If PTA opened a branch now, well, we’d be able to sign the most promising acting prospects. And I could live in Sin City, where it was a heck of a lot warmer than in the Big Apple.
“Why me?” I finally asked. “You have more senior agents.” Although admittedly, I was repping our biggest client: Gracie Corsini, recently married and newest star of one of the remaining soap operas shooting in NYC, “Heart’s Home”.
“I do,” he agreed, running a hand through his buzz cut brown hair. “However, you’re extremely creative. You’ve demonstrated considerable management skills of the organizational challenges of this business and the sometimes difficult personalities. And you’ve done so while always remaining calm. I imagine we’ll need a lot of all of that in Vegas.”
I thought for a few more moments while watching Sidney’s body language. He projected the air of calm expectation that I’d say yes. His steepled fingers on his desk and the tightness in his jaw betrayed his doubt. He believed I could do it. I guess he wasn’t sure if I believed I could do it. He should have more faith in his instincts.
“I’ll do it,” I declared and Sidney smiled.
“My realtor, John, has a hold on some office space; I’ll want you to check it out and okay it.”
“Sure, no problem. Anything else I need to know?”
“I’d like to have you up and running by the end of the month. Can you do that?”
Gulp and a breath. “Absolutely.”
“And, John sent me an article; the biggest entertainment story right now is the death of a young twenty-something actress of a heart attack.”
“Oh my gosh, that’s terrible! Though we clearly need to give them a bigger story to care about.”
Sidney laughed. “Yes, we do.”
“And we will by the end of the month,” I said with a smile.
“You know what caught my eye about the story?”
“Nuh-uh.”
“How much she looked like you, with her blond hair and blue eyes.”
“Okay, that’s creepy, Sidney. Besides, I am not a young twenty-something.”
“You could pass for it, though.”
“Moving on.”
Sidney laughed again. “I trust you, Catherine, and I know you’ll make us proud.”
Only thirty years old and I was about to head up the West Coast branch of one of the top New York City talent agencies.
Nice.
CHAPTER TWO
A two-room office was all I felt necessary at this point – waiting area and my personal office. Thus, Sidney’s realtor John pleasantly surprised me with the tentatively chosen space. Our new office would be in a smaller four-storefront strip mall next door to a larger two-story artists’ center. We’d be right in the middle of the action, but by having our own space, we could still have the quiet that came from separation. Once I had signed the rental documentation, I made quick work of interior decoration. A successful trip to RC Willey and they had agreed to deliver my furniture and artwork within three days.
I stood in the waiting room, eyeing the two tan love seats with bright yellow throw pillows. Local artwork on the beige walls gave the space personality. A small desk for my assistant (note to self: hire assistant) sat near the door to my office.
My actual office was the perfect size for me and minimal furniture. Filing cabinet disguised as a tall hutch tucked in one corner. Burnished wood desk stood in front of a decent sized window. Comfortable black faux-leather chairs for me and one guest.
A soft bell drew my attention. I thought I had locked the front door.
“Hello?”
I turned at the unexpected greeting and exited my office. We weren’t exactly open yet. I still needed to post some social media ads requesting actor submissions.
“Are you Catherine Rodham?” A woman so average she was instantly forgettable took several hesitant steps into the waiting area.
“Yes,” I responded, plastering a smile on my face. “How may I help you?”
“I’ve forgotten my manners,” she answered my question with an apology and extended her hand. “My name is Robin Landon.” Her handshake was like gripping a dead fish, cool and slippery. “Of Landon Talent.”
Ah, the competition. I peered closer at her mousy brown hair and half-smile as I released her hand. “What can I do for you, Ms. Landon?”
“Please, call me Robin,” she insisted. “I wanted to welcome you to Las Vegas.”
Hmm, that’s not true. “Thank you,” I said anyway. I opened my mouth to say more then changed my mind.
“You’re wondering how I knew you were here already if you weren’t open or advertising yet?” Her eyes twinkled at the question, but there was steel underneath.
“I am curious,” I admitted.
“My staff keeps an eye on the business licenses granted to comparable businesses.” I nodded and she continued. “How’d you manage to get yours so fast?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t submit it, so I couldn’t tell you.” I smiled broadly. “I’m looking forward to meeting folks in our industry and beyond, now that we’re here and about to be up and running.”
“Wonderful,” she said, with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. “I’m also here on another matter.”
“Oh?”
“Councilwoman Barbara Knollman would like to personally invite you to join the Las Vegas Chamber of Commerce.”
My eyebrows rose in surprise. “I’m not familiar with the councilwoman, since I’m new in town. I appreciate the invitation. Please tell her I said thank you.”
“You’ll join then? We have a meeting in two weeks.”
I frowned. “I’ll consider it.” I’d had every intention of joining, but this was feeling like a command requirement, not a simple invitation. I wasn’t going to be pushed around just because I was a newbie.
“Please do. The councilwoman would consider it an insult to ignore her invitation.”
I nearly laughed; that had to be a joke. The talent agent sounded like a bad gangster movie. She believed what she said though. I kept my composure and nodded. “I’ll take that under advisement.”
“See that you do.” Robin nodded, face tight. “Thank you for your time.” She turned to leave before I could respond.
“Thank you,” I told my closing front door. “That was weird.”
For most of my adult life, I’ve had the ability to know if people told the truth or not. Call me a human lie detector. I’ve always chalked it up to extreme empathy, though an internet search suggested I might actually be an empath. Today it told me there was more to Robin and the councilwoman than was presented.
I made mental notes to remember both Robin Landon of Landon Talent and Councilwoman Barbara Knollman.
CHAPTER THREE
I loved my new condo. Prices in Las Vegas were so much more affordable than in New York City. I knew that of course – I didn’t live under a rock – but it’s different when you’re actually comparing what you can get for your money. After considering the various neighborhoods, I decided I wanted to be in an up-and-coming neighborhood, so I chose Newport Lofts, a condo building near the Arts District, walking distance to art galleries and restaurants. And when the weather cooperated (which was most of the time), I could even walk to work.
My obsession with a local entertainment morning show started my first full day in the city only two weeks ago. I settled back on my maroon couch and clicked on the television. My teenage tabby cat jumped into my lap, purring and kneading my belly. “Hey, Momma,” I said and scratched her behind the ears. “You ready to be entertained and informed?” She meowed in response and settled down in my lap.
“Good morning in the Valley! Welcome to Entertainment Daily. I’m one of your hosts, Elizabeth Addison.” The perky brunette showed chicklet teeth when she smiled and I guessed her age as late twenties or early thirties. Her smile fell and her tone hushed. “According to police, a second actress has been found dead in her home of apparent unknown causes.”
I set my cup on the coffee table and leaned forward. This was not good. An image of a cute blond appeared over the newscaster’s shoulder. She gestured to the picture. Hadn’t Sidney said the first dead actress was a blond too?
“Kelly Stevens was a 25-year-old local actress. Her talent agent reports she was currently filming a television pilot and had no known medical issues that would have contributed to her death. Police say they found no evidence of self-harm or foul play at the scene, nor did they find drug paraphernalia. Toxicology reports have been ordered, however they won’t be in for a few weeks. Unofficially the cause of death is being considered medical, possibly a heart attack. Viewers of this show know that this is the second apparently healthy actress in two months to die of a “heart attack” without any history of medical issues. Police decline to confirm the two deaths are related.” Despite my newness to Ms. Addison’s reporting, even I could tell she did not believe that. A smirk and a twinkle in her eye appeared as she leaned toward the camera. “But, guys, stop with the crazy conspiracy theories on social media.” She shook her head. “Magic, witchcraft, voodoo. Y’all are reaching.” She winked and then turned to another camera, signaling the end of the story.
The show continued but I muted Ms. Addison’s co-host. Two deaths in two months of local actresses. And right when I was launching the new office. Not the best timing. However, thus far, the odd deaths hadn’t seemed to impact the interest generated by my social media posts for new clients.
February was an unpleasant weather month everywhere, even Vegas. I learned this shortly after my arrival and was not happy. I sighed as I pulled out of the underground parking lot of the condo building in my bright blue VW bug. At least my NYC winter wardrobe wasn’t going to waste. My commute to the office I rented was mere minutes. I parked the VW in a spot in the tenants’ lot behind the strip mall and, ducking my head, moved quickly from my car around to the front of the building. You wouldn’t think 40s would feel so cold when you’re used to 20s and blizzards. It did.
I leaned against my door, took a deep breath, and crossed the waiting area to my office. I stashed my coat on a hanger in the closet tucked into one corner of the room, smoothed my hands down the navy shift I’d chosen for my first day auditioning clients, and sat behind the desk. Not five minutes later, my assistant, Cherie, arrived and we organized for the day. Hours later, I stood to stretch out my sore neck and did some trunk twists to get the blood flowing.
“There are a lot of actors in Las Vegas.”
Cherie laughed with the uncertainty of the young and newly hired, unsure of the appropriate response to my comment. I smiled inwardly.
“It’s great to have this much talent to choose from,” I clarified and she nodded. “How many more do we have today?”
Cherie checked her notes, curly brown hair bouncing as she slightly bobbed her head. “Two more men. Alexander Moore and Michael Onyx.”
I did another little stretch and tried not to yawn. While I was thrilled my social media notices pulled in so many actors interested in representation, after a while all the faces started to run together. “Show me what Mr. Moore emailed us.” Cherie pressed a few places on the screen before passing me the iPad. Oh wow. Alexander Moore was certainly photogenic, with his black hair just long enough to be sexy, electric green eyes, silky smooth skin, and jealousy-inducing high cheekbones and long eyelashes. I must have made a noise.
“I know, right? He’s yummy.”
I laughed and Cherie blushed.
“No, you’re absolutely right. Let’s hope he has some talent to go along with that,” I added then changed screens to look at his submitted resume. Lots of local credits, mostly independent and student films. Could go either way, talent-wise. A soft bell informed us that the door to Peterson Talent Agency had been opened. “Please go admit Mr. Moore.”
“With pleasure.” Cherie left my office and I heard her speaking to someone. The other voice sounded definitely male, and definitely sexy. Cherie reappeared in my office, eyes wide, and she gave a slight tilt to her head before stepping back out of the room to remain in the waiting area during the audition. I had an idea what she meant by the head tilt but still felt unprepared when Alexander Moore entered my office. I stood and walked around my desk to greet him.
“Mr. Moore, I’m Catherine Rodham, talent agent for Peterson Talent Agency.”
“Please call me Alex, Ms. Rodham. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He gripped my offered hand.
An immediate tingle rushed through my body at his touch and I found myself looking up into his amazing eyes – and that didn’t happen much, given that I’m 5’10”. I vaguely recalled seeing on his resume that he was 6’3”. I blushed like a schoolgirl and pulled my hand free.
What the hell? Why was I having this reaction? I’ve met plenty of handsome men before. Sheesh. I broke eye contact and returned to my desk, but not before I swore I saw Mr. Moore smirk. Hmm, I guess he’s used to this reaction.
I sat at my desk and gestured for him to take a seat opposite, which he did. “Thank you for your interest in our agency,” I began, reciting my introductory speech by rote memorization while I continued to check him out, from the black t-shirt form-fitting to his muscular chest, obvious even under the outer blazer, to his jeans which were also, ahem, form-fitting.
Lights, Camera, Action Page 1