JM waved dismissively in the general direction of his lieutenant. ‘Dexter, get Emma somebody to act as guide and interpreter.’ His expression hardened. ‘And make sure it’s someone really, really good. There’s too much riding on this.’
Emma decided she had better make it clear she couldn’t just up sticks and drop everything.
‘But, JM, I’m right in the middle of finalising everything for Sweet Memories. Shooting starts any day now and I need to be here for that. I’ve got sets being built as we speak.’
‘Sweet Memories isn’t gonna be the Big One, Emma. We both know that.’ The big man shook his head sorrowfully. ‘More’s the pity. I’m hoping it’ll be good, but it’s not gonna be box-office gold. Dreaming of Italy has to be our number one priority. Don’t worry, we’ll get somebody to take over from you with “Memories”.’
Emma didn’t like the sound of this one bit. What if this ‘somebody’ ruined all her carefully prepared plans? Her increasingly important role in the company was as a fixer, ensuring that everything from lighting engineers and wardrobe staff to location shooting permits and road closure orders were in place and ready for the director to step in seamlessly as the cameras began to roll. She knew only too well that every lost day on a shoot would cost the company thousands upon thousands. She made another attempt to tell him how much work she had on her desk at the moment, but JM had already turned to his right-hand man. ‘Dexter, make it happen.’
Dexter nodded and tapped something onto his phone. Emma gave a surreptitious sigh. Sweet Memories might not be the Big One, but she had been working flat out to ensure it was going to go as smoothly as possible. Now, if problems cropped up and she wasn’t there to fix them, it would be her fault, seeing she had done so much of the logistical groundwork. At the same time if everything went well, she knew the praise would be heaped upon her replacement. For her, it was a lose-lose situation.
However, she didn’t have a chance to object again as JM had moved on.
‘And we’re going to need a history guy. How’s that coming along, Dexter?’
The movie was set in the early years of the twentieth century, and she knew how important it was to ensure that the film was historically accurate and for everything to be as authentic as possible. Nothing would be more potentially embarrassing than the occasional glimpses of watches on the wrists of Apaches to be found in old movies or vapour trails in the sky above Napoleon’s retreating army, the characters shouldn’t suddenly find themselves in a building that hadn’t existed back then or taking a ferry built in the nineteen fifties. Reluctantly accepting that she and Dreaming of Italy were now irrevocably linked, she nodded her agreement and added a plea.
‘And if you can find somebody who speaks good Italian as well as English, Dexter, that would be great. Like I said, I can order a pizza and a glass of wine, but I wouldn’t have a clue when faced with a deep historical treatise.’ Another thought occurred to her and she turned towards JM. ‘Are you going to be happy with stills or do you want video? If so, you’d better send a cameraman.’
JM shook his head. ‘Stills are good. I prefer stills. Just make sure you take lots of them. Now, let’s get this straight. This movie is the studio’s number one priority for now, and I mean number one.’ He slapped the desk with a massive palm to emphasise his words. ‘How soon can you get onto it?’
Anticipating the question, Emma had already started thinking about this. ‘Well, if you can find somebody to take over from what I’m on now, I’ll need a few days – say a week – to talk them through everything so, in principle, I could be ready to go a week after you find my temporary replacement.’
She made sure she added a little extra emphasis to the penultimate word. After her years in the company, she had too much experience of what could happen when people took over other people’s jobs. She knew full well there were any number of hopefuls a rung or two below her on the ladder who would be only too happy to get their hooks into her job – and hang on tight.
JM wasn’t the boss of a billion-dollar company for nothing. It was immediately obvious he could tell what was going through her mind. What he said next had her rocking back in her seat.
‘Listen, Emma, in this company, we reward talent. That’s what got me where I am today. Get this right and you won’t be going back to your old job.’ He caught her eye and nodded again. ‘That’s what I said. Find me the very best locations for this movie and there’s a corner office with a vice president’s nameplate on the door for you. That’s how important this movie is for me, for you and for the whole company. Get it right and the sky’s the limit for you.’
And if I screw up… Emma had no doubts about what the alternative scenario would be. She gulped, savouring the tantalising prospect of such a massive upward step, but only too aware what the penalty for failure could be. Even worse, she could be on the wrong end of two failures, if her replacement on Sweet Memories also screwed things up. However, JM didn’t give her time to dwell upon what lay before her.
‘So you could be ready to go this month?’ As Emma nodded cautiously, he shot a glance across at his PA. ‘Dexter, find us a replacement for Emma as soon as possible so she can get them bedded in. Okay? As for you, Emma, no husband or boyfriend who’s gonna miss you?’
Emma answered resolutely. ‘No, sir, nobody. I’m good to go.’
For a second she read that same expression that often crossed people’s faces when they registered that she was in her mid-thirties, reasonably bright and good-looking, and yet unattached. Yes, there had been a few men over the years, but none that had provided any more than temporary entertainment. She was increasingly approached these days by random men – and a surprising number of women – but she knew only too well that as her status in the company rose, so her appeal in their eyes was almost certainly not just for herself, but for what she could do for their careers. As a result, she had become ever more wary, especially in an environment like Hollywood where little was ever what it appeared to be. Besides, there was no doubt in her mind that her career was far more important than any random man.
‘Great. Well, thanks, Emma. I know you’ll do a great job.’ Just in case she hadn’t realised the gravity of the situation, he reminded her once again. ‘Make this our Casablanca and we’ll all be winners. Got that, Emma?’
‘Yes, sir. Got it.’ He was dead right. There was a great deal riding on this – for the company but even more for her.
However, just as she was about to get up, assuming the meeting was over, JM said something that raised the stakes a thousandfold.
‘And I’m gonna send my son to Italy along with you.’
‘Your son?’
Like most of the staff of JMGP, Emma had heard of the existence of JM’s son, but had never met him. Such was the secrecy surrounding him, some had even started to doubt whether he actually existed or whether he was yet another Hollywood myth. She sat up and listened with rapt attention, her mind churning over the implications of this bombshell.
‘He’s fresh out of college and I want him to learn all there is to know about the company.’ He caught Emma’s eye again. There was definitely something almost hypnotic about his gaze. ‘And I want him to learn from the best. Yes, I mean you, Emma. I want you to teach him all you know.’