“I’m sure.” She tried to smile her thanks. She was too nervous to consume anything. She couldn’t believe she was standing in Quinton Fairchild’s office and about to discuss her script with him, but this could be a mirage that would fade away, only to find herself gawking at a red-faced Mr. Lowery.
On the table sat Chrystelle’s portfolio. She didn’t see Quint’s belongings from earlier but in this massive office, they could easily be missed.
She took a seat and almost gasped at the buttery soft upholstery that folded around her like pillows. She scooted to the edge of her chair. She had to be alert while they discussed her script. If she were too comfortable, she’d miss something important.
Quint flipped open the cover of the bound manuscript. His intense gaze scanned the page. “You’ve got a good opening. The characters are strong, especially Eleanor. She’s quite adventurous.”
Chrystelle’s heart beat wildly. Did Quint truly like what she’d written? She swallowed the hope building in her chest. One thing she’d learned since coming to Hollywood was to never make assumptions.
Of course, Quint seemed interested in her script. He had squeezed this meeting with her in between what had to be a busy schedule, but she had to treat this opportunity like an elevator pitch—talk fast and be convincing.
She inhaled deeply. She could do this.
Chapter 3
“You said you produced the pilot.” Quint lifted his gaze to Chrystelle.
“I filmed it in my hometown.” She couldn’t believe he remembered she’d told him that. “Most of the old buildings are still standing. The video file is rather large, but I can email you a link to download the pilot. What’s your email address?” Chrystelle pulled out her phone.
He recited his email address then said, “Now here’s what I’d like to do—”
The intercom in the center of the table sounded. “Mr. Fairchild?” A clear and melodious voice floated into the room.
“Yes, Bernice?”
“Miss Yothers is here to see you.”
“Florence Yothers? The star of Hope Ever After?” Chrystelle whispered. She felt the blood drain from her face as she stared at the closed double doors leading into Quint’s office.
“I’m in a meeting,” Quint said. “Tell her—”
The doors burst open. “Tell me what?” The statuesque blonde who Chrystelle had watched on television for years swept into the room. Her normally porcelain skin darkening, her eyes glittered. She was almost breathing fire.
“Florence, nice of you to drop in.” Quint smiled as if truly happy to see her.
Chrystelle inhaled sharply. Florence looked ready to explode and nothing like the sweet and demure character she portrayed in the television series.
“I’m just finishing up. Can you give me a few moments? Then I’ll clear my calendar for the next hour,” Quint said and arched a brow at Florence.
“We’re. Meeting. Now.” She glared at Quint. “Alistair!”
A breathless little man wearing black-rimmed glasses and dragging a rolling catalog case behind him rushed into the room. “Florence, I told you to wait until we had a chance to review the contract.” He panted. His eyes twitched behind the thick lenses of his glasses.
“Why?” Florence’s beautiful blue gaze glared at Quint with cold wrath. “We already know it doesn’t meet my demands.”
Quint’s mouth tipped, and he looked at Chrystelle. “I’m sorry to interrupt our meeting, but I’m sure this won’t take long.”
“You don’t know what I have to say.” Florence’s voice rose with each word.
“I have an idea,” he said and pressed a button on the intercom. How could he be so calm?
“Yes, Mr. Fairchild?” Bernice’s voice rose from the phone.
“It appears my meeting with Miss Bach needs to be postponed for an hour. Would you please ask security to send one of the guards to give her a tour of the lot?”
“Yes, Mr. Fairchild.”
Florence turned her frigid and elegant gaze to Chrystelle. She looked stunning in the garment that clung to her well-toned figure even if her mouth did curl with anger. “You may want to tour the entire lot. This will take a while.”
“Because you’re here to discuss the contract, let’s leave that detail of Miss Bach’s studio tour to security.” Quint’s tone had softened, but his eyes flashed.
“I’ll just wait outside.” Chrystelle flushed and pointed toward the doors. Walking backward, she moved out of the office and into the reception area where Quint’s six assistants typed and talked and dashed about.
The office doors drifted closed, but not before Florence’s raised voice shot through the narrowing gap. “You should’ve known better than to offer me this pathetic contract.”
“Which made you the highest-paid actress in Hollywood.” Quint sounded so cool.
How could he be? Florence Yothers was the star of his most popular series. What would he do if she walked off the set?
Chrystelle turned and stared at the assistants. No one seemed to notice her. Quint had asked Bernice to arrange a studio tour for her, but Chrystelle didn’t know which assistant was Bernice.
“Miss Bach.” The assistant Quint had earlier identified as Nina leapt to her feet and rushed toward her. “Your tour is ready to start. If you’ll come with me.” Her smile was sincere, her teeth startlingly white. Pivoting on her high heels, she strode to the elevator. Chrystelle raced after her.
On the lower level, a handsome man who was probably waiting for his big break in front of the camera stood in the foyer. His guard’s uniform was neatly pressed, his hair recently clipped.
“Bob,” Nina said, “this is Miss Chrystelle Bach. Mr. Fairchild requests you take her on a tour of the lot. He should be ready to resume his meeting with her in one hour.”
“Will do, Nina.” He offered her a practiced smile that reminded Chrystelle of a young Adam Demos. “Come with me, Miss Bach. You’re about to be dazed and amazed by the inner workings of Fairchild Films.”
Chrystelle followed Bob to the elevators. Outside, he helped her into a golf cart, which was a welcome change for her since she usually helped people into her limousine.
Bob rushed to the driver’s side. Climbing in, his face spread into a Hollywood smile. “We’ll start with the main soundstage in Studio B. They’re filming the summer episodes for Sunset Beach.”
As he took off, she clapped her hand to the chauffeur’s cap she hadn’t thought to remove. Wonder and excitement filled her. She couldn’t wait to see behind the scenes of Fairchild Films.
By the end of the tour, she’d visited three studios, watched a taping of her favorite television show and chatted with the actors and directors, all before Bob returned her to the corporate office building. Nina was waiting for her when she stepped off the elevator and whisked her to Quint’s office.
When she entered, Quint was standing by his desk looking as handsome and as serious as when she’d met him this morning. There was no sign of Florence and Chrystelle wondered if they’d resolved her contract issue.
He stared at a script on his desk and thumbed through the pages.