Chasing Dreams

by Susan Lewis

  Sandy smiled ruefully and went off to find the producer, trying hard to ignore the terrible nerves she was experiencing at the mere thought of Michael arriving on set, never mind what she hoped might happen after.

  More than three weeks had gone by since they’d spent the night together and though he’d been in Paris for the past eight days there had been plenty of opportunities for them to see each other before that and he hadn’t taken a single one. He hadn’t even turned up for the opera the night he’d told Zelda to invite her, nor had he returned any of the messages she’d left on his answerphone.

  There was no point fooling herself any more, he was obviously avoiding her and though she knew why, it still hurt to realize that he was trying to stick to his rule of no relationships in the office. She wanted desperately to let him know that she’d never tell a soul, that she’d keep their affair secret for as long as he wanted, just as long as he saw her again, but short of sending him a letter there seemed no way she could get near him. She was sure he still wanted her, for it just couldn’t be possible to feel this way about someone and them not feel something too. Besides, she saw the way he looked at her sometimes, in meetings or while she was talking on the phone, and he always smiled as though letting her know how much that night had meant to him too. Or maybe he was telling her how much he appreciated the effort she was putting into her career, knowing that it would make a real difference to their relationship once she became a fully fledged agent.

  Actually, if she were being honest with herself, she had no idea what he was thinking, though he’d seemed much more withdrawn lately, not just with her, but with everyone. Nesta agreed that it could well be his dilemma over her that was causing it and though neither she nor Nesta considered it a good idea to corner him at work, her attempts to reach him at home had all so far failed. Not that he ignored her messages totally, he just waited until the next morning in the office to ask her what the call was about. Each time she’d told him she’d managed to sort the problem out herself, as Bertie or one of the booking assistants were invariably in earshot and though she longed to let them know that her relationship with Michael had developed into something beyond the professional, instinct told her that Michael wouldn’t appreciate it if she did.

  And now, here she was, waiting for him to call again. She wished she had the courage to call him herself, but she couldn’t bear to hear him say he wasn’t coming when she’d invested so much hope in this one night away. In her heart she just knew that if they were able to talk, everything would change: he’d see how right they were for each other and stop fighting it. Not that she blamed him for the way he was holding back, most men had a problem with commitment, everyone knew that, and after what had happened with Michelle it wasn’t very surprising he was finding it so hard to let go again. She just wished there were a way to let him know she understood that and was prepared to wait however long it took for him to be ready to take that step again.

  It was as the unit was wrapping that Carl Roman sought her out to tell her he’d just received a call from Michael saying he was sorry he couldn’t make it tonight. To make up for it he’d invited Carl and Libby to join him for dinner the following Thursday when they got back to London. The news hit Sandy hard, but she was right in the middle of trying to sort out a problem with one of Janey’s clients at the time. So there was nothing else she could do but thank Roman for letting her know and carry on flipping through the pages of her Filofax making endless calls and copious notes on what the actor in crisis should be saying to the rest of the press after the Sun exposed his prison record the next morning.

  As she dealt with the problem Nesta sat on the street bench with her, watching the crew packing up their gear and marvelling at the way Sandy was coping so coolly and effectively with a matter that should have gone straight to Janey, but because of the particular friendship and trust Sandy had built up with the actor he had come to her instead. In fact, the more Nesta watched Sandy in action the more impressed she was becoming. It was clear to her now that she had seriously underrated Sandy, both professionally and intellectually, for if what she’d seen here today was anything to go by, she was much more cut out for her chosen career than Nesta had realized. And though Sandy might profess just to mimic her superiors, Nesta suspected that the shrewdness and cunning were all her own. Not that Nesta considered there to be anything wrong with the way Sandy manipulated people and situations to her own end; God knew no one ever got to the top without such skills and though Zelda might have given Sandy her first break, to the best of Nesta’s knowledge, no one else could be accused of giving her a leg-up. Unless one counted Maurice Trehearne, the property tycoon from Sandy’s escort days, whom she still saw quite regularly, though no longer in a professional capacity. That wasn’t to say she didn’t sleep with the old guy any more, because she did, but only because she was so fond of him and needed all the invaluable advice on business strategy and executive technique he’d have happily given her anyway.

  ‘You know what I think,’ she said to Sandy as they walked back to the car they’d hired for the day, ‘I think Michael’s still seeing you as the starry-eyed kid from the sticks who doesn’t know her soliloquies from her sit-coms. I mean, you can’t really blame him for that when he only promoted you a month ago …’

  ‘Six weeks,’ Sandy interjected.

  ‘… but what I reckon is that you just have to wait this out and let him see for himself what you’re really about, because I’m telling you, you’ve really knocked my hat off today and that was just one day. Give him another month and he’ll have forgotten all about the peculiar little clerk with a crush who used to sit in his outer office in fancy stockings and Wonderbras; he’ll be seeing you for the ragamuffin businesswoman you’re turning into.’

  Though Sandy laughed at the reference to her casual attire, her eyes were shining with pleasure at the compliment. ‘Well, if I can convince you, I should be able to convince anyone,’ she quipped.

  Nesta shrugged. ‘You can make out it’s all an act if you like,’ she said, ‘but I’m not fooled. You know what you’re doing and you know where you’re going. In fact, I can see now why you gave up the escort business. You’ve carved a real niche for yourself here and I have to tell you, if I wasn’t happy doing what I’m doing I’d probably be asking you for a job.’

  Sandy laughed. ‘I’m a long way from that kind of position,’ she reminded her.

  ‘But you’ll get there,’ Nesta assured her. ‘If you carry on the way you’re going I don’t see how you can fail. What’s more, I’ll lay money on it you’ll end up with Michael too. I just hope the bastard’s good enough for you, that’s all.’

  Sandy looked at her in confusion. ‘Well, that’s a change of heart if ever I heard one,’ she commented.

  ‘I mean it,’ Nesta told her.

  Sandy smiled. ‘It’s nice of you to say so,’ she responded, ‘but it’s still whether I’m good enough for him that’s the issue.’

  Nesta was shaking her head. ‘No, I promise you we’ve got this all round the wrong way,’ she said. ‘Isabelle gave me this book the other day on self-esteem. I think you should read it, because honest to God, Sandy, you’re worth more than a one-night stand and by rights you should be getting as mad as hell about the way he’s treated you by now, not standing here wondering if you’re good enough for the bastard.’

  Sandy inhaled deeply and pulled a face. ‘But you just said I had to be patient,’ she reminded her, ‘and after what happened with Michelle – you know, the way she let him down and everything – who can blame him for being nervous it’ll happen again?’

  ‘But how do you know he feels that way? Did he tell you?’

  ‘No, of course not. He never even mentioned her. But think how you’d feel if someone walked out on you publicly like that? It must have been terrible. So I think you’re right, I just have to wait this out and give him time to get used to the idea of having someone else in his life.’

  ‘I don’t unders
tand, what’s this guy hoping to get out of it?’ Michael asked, referring to the proposal Harry had just handed him.

  Harry shrugged. ‘Publicity, I guess’ he answered. ‘And kudos. And gazillion bucks, eventually.’

  Michael scanned the document again. ‘An initial investment of two million’s a lot of money,’ he remarked, looking up. ‘How serious do you think he is?’

  Harry drew a hand over the gingery stubble on his chin, then picked up his coffee from Michael’s desk. ‘I told you, I met the guy at a party the other night,’ he said, taking a slurp. ‘He seemed serious at the time and now this,’ he added, indicating the document.

  ‘Whose party was it?’ Michael wanted to know. ‘Who introduced you?’

  ‘Ed Baldwin.’

  Michael’s expression suggested he was OK with that. ‘Have you spoken to Ed since?’ he asked.

  ‘He’s in New York. I left a message for him to call.’

  Michael pursed his lips thoughtfully and looked down at the proposal again. ‘I’ll speak to Ed when he calls,’ he said, ‘because if this guy is serious it could be something we want to get into. Do you know if he’s given this to anyone else?’ he asked, referring to the three page dossier outlining one of the most ambitious film–TV–theatre projects Michael had ever seen.

  ‘He said not,’ Harry replied, glancing over his shoulder as Jodi came into the office. ‘He said he’d heard good things about this agency so he wanted to give us first refusal. In fact, so he claims, he was scheduled to have lunch with you early next week, but something came up that meant he was flying back to Australia the morning after the party. So when he heard who I was he made a point of introducing himself and asking me to start the ball rolling.’

  Michael’s eyes narrowed. ‘Mark Bergin?’ he said. ‘Did we have him down for lunch next week, Jodi?’

  She nodded. ‘Yeah, we did,’ she answered.

  ‘So what do we know about him?’

  ‘He’s Australian, into mining or something, and wants to get into showbiz.’

  ‘Do we know anything else?’

  ‘Never heard of him before the other night,’ Harry responded, watching Jodi from the corner of his eye as she started updating the schedule boards on Michael’s wall.

  Michael hit three buttons on his intercom. ‘Zelda, does the name Mark Bergin mean anything to you?’ he said. ‘He’s an Aussie.’

  Zelda was quiet as she thought. ‘Can’t say it does,’ she answered finally. ‘Why?’

  Michael told her about the proposal.

  ‘Is that two million pounds or dollars he’s prepared to put up?’ she asked.

  Michael looked at the document. ‘Pounds,’ he replied.

  ‘And he wants you to find someone here to match it?’

  ‘That seems to be the general idea,’ Michael answered. ‘And you haven’t bitten his hand off yet?’ Zelda marvelled.

  Michael laughed. ‘I’ll keep you posted,’ he told her and clicking off the intercom he handed the proposal back to Harry. ‘Get me a copy,’ he said, looking at his watch. ‘I’ll make a few calls to Sydney and let you know what I come up with. Jodi, it’s past eleven o’clock. Did Fitzwarren come back to us yet?’

  ‘No,’ she answered, watching Harry leave.

  ‘Then he’s missed the deadline,’ Michael said. ‘Get on to Sally Byrd at Fox and tell her she’s got herself a deal with RTV on the media-mania project. Then call Philomena at the National and ask her for an answer on the tickets tomorrow night.’

  ‘How many people are you taking?’ Jodi asked, her pen poised over her notebook.

  ‘Six,’ he answered. ‘Seven if my mother wants to come. Call her and find out, will you? Did you hear back from Ellen Shelby?’

  Jodi nodded and started to go through a pile of paperwork she’d left on his desk. ‘She faxed last night. Here it is.’

  Michael took it, read it quickly, then said, ‘Fax her back and tell her I’ll deal with Forgon.’

  Jodi jotted it down, then looked at him. ‘Anything else?’ she asked as he started going through his mail.

  Without looking up he shook his head and continued to read the letter in front of him.

  ‘Sandy’s replacement started while you were away,’ she informed him. ‘Would you like to meet her?’

  ‘I already have,’ he answered. ‘I interviewed her, remember? How’s she working out?’

  ‘Let’s put it this way,’ she replied. ‘I don’t expect she’ll be giving you any trouble in the crush department.’

  Michael’s eyebrows went up as he treated her to a dark, cautionary look.

  Jodi flushed and closing up her notepad let herself quietly and swiftly out of the office.

  Michael was still looking at the door as she closed it, then, sighing to himself he turned back to what he was doing. The fact that Jodi and Harry had gone past the flirtation stage was pretty evident in the way both were behaving, but that was the first time Michael had even hinted he knew anything about it. Whether he was going to take it any further he doubted, for he didn’t want to lose either of them and now that Harry’s baby had been born, Michael had every faith that the man would come to his senses and give it up before either of them got in any deeper. As it stood, Michael was pretty certain that Laura, Harry’s wife, knew nothing about it; he just hoped it stayed that way for there couldn’t be many betrayals a woman would find less forgivable than that of her husband sleeping with another woman while she was carrying his baby.

  It was lucky for Harry, Michael couldn’t stop himself thinking, that he’d chosen Jodi rather than Sandy for his illicit affair, as Michael couldn’t see Jodi clinging on to Harry the way Sandy was clinging on to him. Mercifully, she wasn’t too bad around the office, but all those messages on his answerphone at home and the way she used other people to set up drinks or dinners or even overnight stays was irritating him to hell. Surely she realized the reason he was avoiding her was so that he didn’t have to put her through the ignominy of a direct rejection? For God’s sake, he was trying to save her feelings, but the way she was carrying on was making it so damned difficult she was practically forcing him to tell her he wasn’t interested. Maybe, in the end, it would be kinder to do that and were it anyone else he probably would, but with her he had a horrible feeling that no matter what he said she wasn’t going to accept it. But he had to do something soon, because he’d just learned from his sister that she was angling her way in over there, calling up for friendly little chats, or dropping in with treats for the kids and Clodagh, God bless her, had invited her to join the family for lunch this Sunday.

  As luck would have it he was going to Ireland at the weekend, but he still wanted his mother to withdraw the invitation, for the last thing he needed was Sandy carving herself a cosy little niche in the heart of his family. Getting Clodagh to agree wasn’t going to be easy, though, as she’d taken quite a liking to Sandy and once Clodagh had made up her mind about something it was damned near impossible to shift her.

  He ploughed on through his mail until he was back at the fax Ellen Shelby had sent while he was in France. He smiled wryly to himself, for here was a woman of whom Clodagh would certainly approve, with her Irish ancestry and good Catholic values. Indeed, there was a chance that someone like Ellen would surpass even Michelle in Clodagh’s eyes which would be no mean feat at all. But he’d never been in the habit of doing what his mother wanted where women were concerned, as well she knew, which was probably why she couldn’t stop herself interfering. Like any other mother she always assumed she knew best and though he’d never disagreed with her about Michelle, he knew already that if she didn’t let up about Sandy they were heading for a serious falling out. But he didn’t see any reason for it to come to that, not if he gave Clodagh what she really wanted, and with the way he’d been thinking lately there was a chance he might. He’d spoken to Cavan a couple of times while he was in France and though he was still pretty convinced Cavan was hiding something, he was much less concerned now than
he had been. Or, to put it another way, he didn’t see any reason to go rushing over there, at least not until he’d come to a firm decision on whether or not he really did want to try again with Michelle.

  Pushing it out of his mind for now, he pressed the button on his intercom and got Jodi back in the office to take down a fax to Ted Forgon. ‘Let’s get it over with,’ he said, as she pulled up a chair. ‘Not that I expect the man to take any notice, but we can at least try to get Ellen Shelby off the hook.’

  ‘I’ve already sent the fax telling her you’re dealing with this direct,’ Jodi informed him, leaning forward to pick up his phone. ‘Hello, Michael McCann’s office,’ she said into the receiver. ‘Oh, hi, Craig, how are you?’ She paused, then looking at Michael she said, ‘He’s right here. I’ll put you on.’

  ‘He’s in a fix at LWT,’ she informed Michael, passing the receiver over.

  Michael took it and covering the mouthpiece with his hand said, ‘You can do the fax to Forgon. Just tell him that under no circumstances do I ever want to do business with him, either now or in the future, and could he please get his staff off my back or I’ll come over there and tear all his hair out.’

  Jodi burst out laughing and leaving him to speak to Craig she returned to her own office to find Sandy standing over Michael’s diary – again.

  Chapter 16

  IT HAD TURNED out to be a much more pleasurable evening than Michael had expected. In fact, he would probably go as far as to say that he’d not only enjoyed the play, but had found Sandy much easier to deal with at the small party after than he’d dared hope. She’d asked him not long after he’d returned from France if he would go with her to see a young actor in a play at the King’s Head in Islington and though he’d spent the past six weeks trying to think up an excuse to get out of it, he had ended up going, because he hadn’t been able to find the heart to turn her down again. In fact, if the truth be known, he’d started warming to her a little lately, for there was no mistaking the effort she was putting into her job and though she seemed unable to stop herself trying to manoeuvre him into situations where they would be thrown together, he could also see how much it hurt her each time he thwarted her.