I stare at Hogan. “You did?”
“Of course I did! I don’t tolerate behavior like that. He deserved to be fired for how he tried to manipulate you and the people of Wolf. There are tons of places he can go and make that kind of sensationalist, negative television. But I don’t want that kind of lowest-common-denominator thinking to represent me or my company.” Hogan sighs. “The bottom line is, I’ve felt for a while that Craig and I were at cross-purposes. It’s like we say the same words but mean two completely different things. So, I’m not just letting him go because of this. You don’t need that on your conscience. It’s a lot of things.”
I don’t know why that didn’t occur to me. I just thought Hogan would be mad; it never crossed my mind that Hogan would fire him. I wonder if Craig knew he was fired when we spoke. If that was why he was so resigned. Selfishly I am relieved to hear this news—it would have been very awkward for Craig and I to continue working together on The Wrong Doctor after everything that’s happened. Not that I would have wished for him to get fired, but it does make my life easier. Besides, I am sure Craig will land on his feet somewhere. That’s how the world works. So long as it’s far away from me and Wolf County, I’m fine with that.
“I’m sorry this happened. That you lost an employee you trusted over all this.” It’s tough because while I feel badly, like somehow I put this in motion, I don’t know that I could have done anything differently. “I guess I should have had my eyes open about Craig. I took him at face value, and I should’ve been more aware that he had his own agenda. I know why Never Cry Wolf was so important to me. I never got an honest answer about why it mattered so much to him.”
“Never Cry Wolf?”
“That’s the name we came up with. I came up with.” I’m done letting Craig take credit for my ideas.
“I love that. Great title. Maddy, I know this show is important to your parents. It can make a difference to the town.”
“We can still sell the show.” I can’t help but go for one last-ditch effort to salvage this. “Who do you know that could step in last minute for Craig? There must be someone who has reality TV experience, someone you trust to help pitch the show. I could brief them tonight.” I check my watch—8:42 p.m. “And be on the way to Manhattan Beach tomorrow morning.” I feel the desperation showing on my face. “We could offer someone executive producer credit if they’ll go to Reality Buzz and sell it.”
The idea of everything going down the toilet because of Craig seems so unjust to me. I can’t stand for that to be how this ends—like one of those art house movies where everyone loses in the end. I hate those movies. I glance around Soho House, starting to feel the edge of hysteria creep up on me. “God, there’s got to be someone here, tonight, who could do it.”
Hogan looks at me oddly.
“There is,” he says simply, taking the last bite of his entrée. “You.”
What? “What?”
“You know perfectly well what, Maddy. You should sell the show. You can do it. Pitching isn’t that hard, especially when you’re as passionate about the subject as you are about Wolf. You’ll do great. I’m not going to find you someone else with this late notice, some random exec who has no investment in the project. I know how to sell TV, and I’m telling you, you can do this. Better than anyone else.”
I am still dumbfounded. “But… Hogan… I—”
“Not only that, but also when you sell the show, I’m putting you in charge of it. You’re going to be the EIC. I know you don’t think you’re ‘creative’ or whatever, but you’re wrong. You have a feel for this. I watched the reel you put together. It’s excellent. It’s got heart. Like you. Like Wolf County.”
There’s a burning behind my eyes that I am determined to ignore.
“I just don’t want to let you down, Hogan. What if I choke?”
Hogan reaches across the table, pats my hand, and smiles at me kindly.
“Don’t choke.”
Scene 002
Ext. Billy Fox’s mansion—night
Billy Fox was surprised to hear from me at 9:00 on a Friday night, but he was the first call I made as I pulled out of Soho House. Pitching is like acting, I remember the agent in the elevator saying. So why not call the best? Billy will have tips, or at least a good pep talk and a giant glass of Pinot. And luckily enough, I catch him before he heads out for the night. I give him a brief rundown of my evening and my predicament, and he tells me to come right over so we can strategize. Luckily, it’s not far, but with Friday night West Hollywood traffic, it’s still forty minutes before I pull up to his gated home in Hollywood Hills. I punch in the gate code he sent me and whistle as the gates pull back to reveal a gorgeous Mediterranean-style villa. It looks like a transplant off some Tuscan vineyard, not an American McMansion. I park next to a long row of bright green hedges and notice there’s another car already parked on the landing. I wonder if Billy’s bought another BMW or if he has a guest and I’m horning in on his plans. The door swings open as I walk up.
“Maddy. Glad you made it. Come in; I opened some wine. You could use it.” He hands me a glass, kisses me on the cheek, and ushers me inside.
“I saw another car. Am I ruining your plans? I won’t stay long. I just need—”
“Since he can’t get invited anywhere on his own, I was going to let him tag along with me tonight.” I turn around to see Adam taking off his jacket and throwing it on a chair. “But of course I canceled the second Billy called. I thought he would need help saving the day.”
“If you had a thought, it’d die of loneliness,” Billy retorts in full Texas twang.
The way they verbally spar reminds me of my brothers. Being surrounded by their friendly, encouraging faces, I finally start to feel like maybe this can really work.
“Did you tell Adam what happened?”
“Yeah, an abbreviated version. Why don’t you fill him in?”
I sit down and with a fortifying sip of wine, tell them both the play-by-play, starting with showing up at Craig’s house and all the way to Hogan’s send-off at Soho House.
“We need to make sure Craig is out. For good.” Adam speaks up after I finish my monologue.
“I think Hogan saw to that. I mean, he fired him. That’s pretty ‘out,’ right?”
“No, Adam’s right. But one thing at a time.” Billy looks at Adam. “Let’s get Maddy ready to pitch this. What do you say?”
Adam nods and focuses on me. “Okay. Have you ever taken improv classes?”
I shake my head.
“Any acting? Public speaking?”
Again, no.
“That’s okay, it doesn’t matter. What do you think, Billy? She should just pitch it, right? We’ll be the network. Just do it once, and we’ll see where we are.”
They sit down on a sofa and stare at me, slightly hostile and expectant.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Billy laughs. “Buyers are tough customers. You’ll have to win them over. Ignore the uninterested faces and do your thing.”
“Okay…” I hesitantly stumble through a brief explanation of what the show would be about. I stop talking, and they continue to stare at me. “Um… should I tell you about the format too? Like the technical stuff?”
“Go ahead,” Adam says formally. I guess we’re still acting.
“Well, we think the show is best in a one-hour format. We have several story lines based on the people we discussed that we would thread through each episode… but uh… I think each episode would focus on one theme… whether it was a specific event or a storm or well, things like that.”
“Is that all?” Adam asks, still in the role of mean network guy.
Billy hits him in the arm. “Stop being so hard on her. It’s her first run at this.”
“Dude. It’s almost ten o’clock. We need to fast-forward this. She needs to sleep and get to Manhattan Beach. We don’t have time to workshop it.” Adam looks at me. “Besides, she can do this.” He hops up an
d pulls a notebook out of his backpack. “I’m writing down the bullet points that I thought were the best parts of your first run-through. We need to work on your confidence. You know what you’re talking about. You believe in the show. We just need to see that more. That’s what sells people. If they’re going to give you their money, trust you to make a show, they have to see that you believe in what you’re doing. Here, let’s start with these.” Adam tears off the piece of paper where he has impressively summed up all the main talking points I had wanted to get across in my pitch.
I look over the list and start again. This time, I’m not more than a couple sentences in before Adam is on his feet.
“Hold on, hold on. This girl can memorize, right? Maddy knows our dialogue better than we do most of the time. Let’s play to her strengths.” Adam grabs the paper back from me and starts peppering me with questions about the show. The Gordons, Pete’s Tavern, the blasters, Mike, etc. We talk through each story line and the right way to show the variety, the drama, everything the show has to offer. And we write it all down. By the time we’ve polished the “script,” I already have it mostly memorized. Every minute that goes by, I start to feel more confident.
“Hello? Where are you guys?” A female voice comes floating through the foyer.
“Hey! Sophie! We’re in the game room.” I look around. We’re in a game room? I notice the billiard table for the first time. There’s also a vintage Pac-Man machine against one wall. My eyes catch Adam’s and we share a thought—of course Billy has a game room.
“Sophie? Your publicist?” I ask Billy.
“I asked her to come,” Adam offers. “To help you present the exact image you want tomorrow. You gotta look the part, right?”
Having met Sophie Atwater several times on set, I can only imagine how it will feel to have that confidence and enthusiasm turned toward me. Sophie comes around the corner loaded down with clothes stacked up to her chin. Both guys leap up to relieve her of her burden.
“Thanks, guys. Hot male clients are good for something, after all.” She laughs. “Adam filled me in, Maddy. I think we should start with the right outfit.”
I don’t know how actresses do it—they can have half a dozen wardrobe fittings per scene. After the third outfit change, I’m exhausted. And it’s a little bit odd to come out and do this fashion show thing with each outfit. Modeling them for Billy and Sophie somehow seems almost normal, businesslike, but I can feel Adam’s eyes on me as he examines each new choice. And it’s not in a creepy way, just a little intense, like he’s soaking in every inch of me. My cheeks heat up just thinking about it.
“Do you need help in there?” Sophie calls from the hallway. I smooth out the skirt of an adorable knee-length fitted dress. The waist hits me perfectly, and the beige tone complements my skin. The best part is this little black detail at the waist and hem that offsets the simplicity and makes it feminine. This one is my favorite.
I walk out and stand in front of Sophie, who lights up when she sees me. What is it about trying on clothes together that bonds women? Her opinion right now is so important to me.
“Oh my God. It’s perfect.” She grins and pulls me into the living room, where I hear the rumbling of the guys’ voices stop as we get close.
I step into the room. Sophie braces my hand and instructs me to stand on my tiptoes, so we can see how it’ll look in heels. I flinch at the thought but dutifully rise up onto the balls of my feet.
“Perfect.” Billy high-fives Sophie. “You did it. That’s why you get the big bucks, huh?”
They laugh together but I don’t hear what they’re saying. I wander down the hall to take in my reflection in the full-length cut-glass mirror in the front hallway. I rise up on my tippy toes again, trying to imagine how tomorrow is going to go. I also wonder if I can really risk doing it in high heels, or will I just fall flat on my face and ruin everything before I can even get the chance to give my pitch?
“You look beautiful, Maddy.” Adam leans against the wall next to the mirror, watching me. So much for not blushing.
“Thanks, Adam. I feel good about this one.” I look down at myself, feeling pretty and incredibly self-conscious all at once.
“You should,” he says simply. “It’s exactly right.” He glances down at my feet, reminding me I’m still balancing on my tiptoes.
“Thanks so much for helping me out tonight,” I say, trying to subtly return to my flat-footed five-eight. I very rarely feel petite, but even separated by several feet, Adam’s taller, broad frame makes me feel very feminine.
“I’m glad I got the chance to help you. I guess it’s safe to say things with Craig are done?”
“Oh… I didn’t know… you knew?” I stammer, caught off guard by his boldness and the fact that he knew it was Craig all along. So much for trying to be discreet.
“Yeah, Billy let it slip. Well, after I fed him a bottle of Jack. I wanted to know who my competition was.” He’s grinning now, and the heat in my cheeks has turned into a full-body flush. “He also told me that if I was lucky enough to get a chance with you, and I messed it up, he would, quote, ‘kick my ass with the sharpest spurs on his snakeskin boots.’ ” Adam’s impression of Billy’s Texas twang is as dead-on as Billy’s of Adam’s Brooklyn accent.
“So? Will I be lucky enough to get a chance with you now?”
“I… um… well… it’s just that…” Oh my God, I have not been able to form a complete sentence in the last five minutes. But turns out, I don’t need to because Adam pushes away from the wall to come toward me. I hold still as he reaches out to adjust the necklace around my throat. It’s a delicate diamond solitaire that Sophie is generously lending me since it’s “perfect” for the dress. It was a gift from her husband, Jacob, so it’s all the more touching she’s letting me borrow it for good luck. He centers the charm on my clavicle and then gently traces his finger along the delicate gold chain to where my shoulder meets my neck. His hand spreads out there, and I feel its warmth seeping into my skin, muddling my brain. So much so, that it isn’t until I actually feel his lips on mine that I catch on that he’s kissing me. I can’t even react right away. He slowly starts increasing the pressure of the kiss, directing it to turn into something stronger, more passionate. He now has a hand tilting my face up to meet his more fully and the kiss grows stronger. I lean into him and feel my heart beating against his chest. Every nerve ending I have is exploding with sensation as I feel him press me against him. He is still leading this embrace, and somehow my arms reach up around his neck and I am just hanging on for the ride, my body quivering and my mind complete mush. He slows the kiss, pulls back a bit, and looks me right in the eye. Then he comes close to kiss me again on the lips, a gentle “this isn’t over” kiss. He’s now holding my shoulders as he gives us both a bit of breathing room, which allows me to realize I haven’t taken in oxygen for quite some time. Only I don’t think that’s the reason I’m light-headed.
One good, deep breath turns out to be a mistake for two reasons: (1) It comes out sounding like a contented sigh, which makes Adam smile knowingly, and (2) I inhale his aftershave, which only makes my head continue to spin.
“Go get ’em, Maddy. You’ve got this.”
Scene 003
Int. Manhattan Beach Hilton—morning
Between the kiss with Adam, replaying yesterday’s turn of events over and over in my mind, and the nerves about today, I didn’t sleep at all last night. Finally, as the sun came up, I stopped trying to sleep and just took a long hot shower, which was somewhat calming. Then I drank a venti cup of coffee on the drive down here, thinking of everything that could go wrong, which was not calming at all. Luckily, Wanda had a great detour that allowed me to avoid the insane traffic issues on the 405, so I got to Manhattan Beach with plenty of time to spare.
The printout Craig’s assistant e-mailed me of Craig’s schedule for today is shaking in my hands as I stand outside the doors of my first pitch meeting. I force myself to take deep breaths a
nd look at my notes again. Sophie told me to take five deep breaths every time I felt nervous. It was exactly what she advised her client who made an appearance on The Tonight Show last week, two days after being caught in a threesome on a video that went viral. If it worked for him… I’m about to take in another cleansing breath when a harassed-looking intern-type kid pokes his head into the hallway, surprising the air right out of me. “Where’s Craig?”
“Um, he’s not here,” I choke out. “I’m here for the pitch.”
“Okay, well. Whatever.” He heads back into the room, holding the door open behind him, the only indication that he is expecting me to follow him into the suite. World-Weary Intern gestures for me to head through another door off the foyer. Who knew hotels had rooms like this? I can’t help but look around at the expansive layout. It’s bigger than my first apartment.
There are three men and one woman, all in clearly expensive suits, talking among themselves. I stand there awkwardly, not sure how to get their attention. I picture Adam last night in Billy’s living room and what he would say about my current predicament.
ADAM
Take charge of the room. Make them pay attention to you.
I clear my throat. The executives pause in their conversation and look up at me with barely disguised irritation. My stomach shrivels up.
ADAM
(wincing slightly)
It’s okay. Shake it off. Tell them who you are and why you’re here.
Good advice from Adam’s voice inside my head. Now I have to put it to action.
“Hi, I’m Maddy Carson. I’m here to pitch you my show.”
“Where’s Craig?” asks Executive on the Left, with the slick Italian hair, looking down at his iPad.
“He’s not working on this project anymore.” I barely avoid tripping over that vague answer.
The female executive looks confused, and I clearly see all four of them lose interest in the space of a second.
Scared Scriptless Page 20