Chapter Three

Kate unlocked the outer security gate to Lillian’s West Hollywood apartment complex. She had finally been summoned to hear her aunt’s plan.

At first glance, the Spanish-style courtyard of the complex appeared like an oasis. She imagined the 1930’s architecture with its peppermint bushes and lemon trees had once sparkled with the promise of easy living. Now the pink cement was chipped, and weeds choked the plants.

She knocked at her aunt’s door.

The door swung open, and there stood a smiling Dylan Nichols.

Kate fell back a step.

“Hello, hello,” he said, as if he was satirizing a greeting instead of making one.

Gaining her bearings, she planted her feet and demanded, “What are you doing here?”

“Me? I’m a friend of Lillian’s.”

“What’s going on? Don’t tell me your judging my film was a coincidence.”

“Hell, no! I was there to check you out.”

She crossed her arms.

“Not like that.” He laughed. “Hey, you didn’t expect me to give up a couple of paying gigs this summer without finding out who I’d be working with, did you? That’s why I knew who you were the moment I saw you. Lil’s the one who told me you looked like your grandmother.”

“What do you mean work together?” She charged past the brute. “Lillian!”

Her aunt stood by her faux marble mantel in the living room. She was wearing a purple and yellow caftan and several strands of colorful beads, as if she were part of a harem in some old Valentino picture. Kate knew her well enough not to be fooled by her overdone costume. Lillian’s mind was quick, and her temperament terrier-like when challenged.

It ran in the family.

“Darling, ladies don’t yell, particularly to their aging aunts who happen to be in the next room.”

“Sorry. But what’s he doing here?”

“He’s a friend.”

Kate leaned close to her aunt and whispered, “I thought we weren’t going to tell anybody about…you know…”

Dylan’s voice sounded behind her. “You mean about the Emperor Smythe footage?”

She stared at her aunt in disbelief.

“Now, dear, I told you I had a friend who could help us. I’ve worked with him before. He’s a filmmaker.”

Kate flung her hands up in exasperation. “I’m a filmmaker. He makes pulp movies and TV shows.”

Unperturbed, Dylan said, “And what have you done besides making a couple of shorts?”

“It’s not what I’ve done.” Kate stood tall. “It’s what I plan to do.”

Both Lillian and Dylan gave her a blank stare. “I’m going to be part of what’s happening now, to be part of the independent cinema scene and not merely a vehicle to perpetuate sexist fantasies.”

“Ha!” Dylan said so loudly that she actually jumped. “If you really want to make changes, you have to be in the business.”

“Sell out.” She scoffed. “I’ll never do that.”

The bastard laughed and looked at her like she was a child even though he was, at most, just a couple of years older than her.

She turned to Lillian. “What can he do that I can’t?”

“Darling, Dylan spent over a year working at AFI’s film restoration program.”

He lifted his ridiculously wide chin. “I can restore that film. This footage may be some of the most important ever discovered. If it’s not handled correctly, it may be ruined.”

“His skill is highly recommended,” Lillian said. “He’s also ambitious enough to agree to work on the restoration as long as necessary.”

“It’ll be an honor to preserve it,” he said.

Kate shook her head. “And doing so will make you famous in film circles. I’m sure that has nothing to do with your motives.”

Dylan feigned innocence and then broke into a brilliant smile. “No, nothing at all.”

Kate turned to her aunt. “Does that mean the film is ours?”

“Not without a fight,” Lillian said. “What I’ve learned is that your possessory claim to the footage is tenuous. Even Winston’s estate, with his unusual retention of rights to the script and to the final edit of the film, probably won’t stand up against Golden State Pictures’ claim and their hordes of lawyers.”

Kate deflated. “Sutton’s going to take it from us?”

Lillian smiled mischievously. “I said probably. One thing just might give us a chance against them. I was thinking, how better to beat a school of sharks than by using another one?”

“Who?”

“Somebody who loved Gloria and has turned out to be the biggest shark of all—Jarvis Benjamin…Gloria’s former agent and now the head of Infinity Studios.”

Dylan shook his head. “Lil, I’m still not sure that’s a good idea.”

Kate dismissed Dylan with a look. “I think it’s a wonderful idea. Mom mentioned him. She liked Jarvis.”

“Yes, the only one in Gloria’s set that Audrey did like,” Lillian said.

“But Golden State Pictures produced Emperor Smythe,” Dylan said. “That’s who you should be dealing with. Adding someone like Jarvis to the mix, particularly if he’s half as fierce a competitor as he’s rumored to be, might—”

Lillian raised a perfectly penciled eyebrow. “Precisely the point. He is indeed fierce.”

“I love it.” Kate clapped her hands. “Lillian, I think you’re the shark.”

“But Dylan’s correct about one thing,” her aunt said. “Trying to use Jarvis’s studio to fight Sutton’s studio is diving into treacherous waters.”

Kate grinned at her aunt. “You can’t wait, can you?”

“Don’t worry, my darling. If things get tough, I’ll even get out the tiara Count Markov presented to me. Men are so easily impressed by a good wardrobe.” Lillian took Kate’s face in her hands. “Something you should remember.”

“Nice try. But I’m not changing my wardrobe—not even for Jarvis Benjamin.”

****

Kate had never felt as uncomfortable as she did sitting on the black leather couch in the reception area outside Jarvis Benjamin’s office.

Their appointment had been scheduled for two-o’clock, but it was now close to six.

Lillian and Dylan sat nearby. He was reading the old swashbuckler novel Scaramouche while her aunt dozed.

Kate squirmed. The entire set-up made her feel like she’d been plunged back into the Middle-Ages and was waiting in the great hall to petition the king.

Here, caste levels were well defined. All the secretaries were women, and all wore plain, sensible dresses with regulation two-inch heels. The men, young executives, wore tailored black or navy blue suits. Each one entered and exited Jarvis’s office with a bowed head and fear etched on his face. Occasionally, she saw a man she pegged as someone from a different class. These men were overly tanned and donned casual but expensive suede jackets. Kate surmised that they were knights-errant—the ones who went out among the people to scour the land for talent. The longer she waited, the clearer it became that she, Lillian, and Dylan were peasants.

Finally, a thin woman in her late fifties appeared and shook Lillian’s delicate hand so hard that Kate thought she might break it. The woman wore a beige jacket and matching skirt with a tan, wide-collared shirt. The only thing that wasn’t drab about her ensemble was the glint of silver that pulled her ash-brown, perfectly angled pageboy neatly behind her ear.

“Miss Lillian Baker, I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Beatrice Talbott.” She had a clipped, east coast prep school accent. “I’m Vice President of Development here at Infinity Studios, and I work directly with Mr. Benjamin on all projects.”

Not a secretary, thought Kate. Very cool.

Beatrice continued to rattle on as if by rote. She didn’t look at Lillian’s face but just over her shoulder, as if her mind was already on the next task of the day. “Please accept Mr. Benjamin’s apologies. He wanted to meet with you in person, for old times’ sake, but he’s much too busy today, so he asked me to handle your matter personally.”

Lillian rose. “That is very kind of you. But, our proposal is sensitive and for Jarvis’s ears alone.”

“Miss Baker, I assure you, I have Mr. Benjamin’s total confidence. Anything you tell me will remain between me and him.”

Lillian sat. “Nonetheless, we will wait to speak with Jarvis. However long it takes.”

“Suit yourself. But it won’t be today. He’s much too busy.” Beatrice twisted the silver object in her hair with her thumb and forefinger.

That’s when Kate realized it wasn’t a barrette but a pen she had nestled behind her ear.

Beatrice turned and pointed to one of the three secretaries, whose steel and wood laminated desks were lined up like sentries in front of Jarvis’s office. “Check with Janice, there, and see if she can fit you in to his schedule on another day.”

After Beatrice left, Dylan leapt to his feet. “That’s BS!”

Lillian shot him a look that would halt a charging bull.

Ignoring the warning, Kate huffed and rushed the barricades anyway.

“Stop!” Lillian commanded.

Kate ignored her aunt and the screams from others for security, as she darted past the three secretaries and swung open Jarvis’s office door. “We’re here to offer you the deal of the century, and you don’t even bother to see us?”

Jarvis, a scrunched man with a slightly lopsided face and faint blue eyes, shot her barely a glance. “Deal of the century? Sounds like a load of crap.”

She sucked in her lower lip.

The room exuded power with its panoramic view of both Hollywood and the San Fernando Valley. Two of the walls were glass, but their brown tint darkened the interior. Crammed between the oversized pieces of furniture were two long glass cases that housed a collection of antique pipes and silver matchboxes, all adding to the opulent but oppressive feel of the office. When she first looked at the man himself, he appeared small behind his vast desk, and with his asymmetrical jowls, some might laugh and think could this really be the man who caused such trepidation throughout the Hollywood kingdom?

But she knew it would be a mistake to be taken in by his inelegant features.

The real force in the office was all Jarvis Benjamin.

“Get out of my office, whoever you are, otherwise my security’s going to throw you out on your ass.”

“Happy to do it, Boss,” a man said behind her and his thick hand clasped down tight on her shoulder.

Lillian, Dylan, and an assortment of secretaries had crowded into the room.

“Oh dear,” Lillian said a bit winded and shaky. “Jarvis, I’m so sorry—”

“Lillian Baker.” Jarvis’s expression softened as he rose and gestured to an empty chair. “Please take a seat. It’s good to see you again.” He shot Kate a look less kind. “Let me guess, anyone so ballsy and rude must be Gloria’s granddaughter.”

Ballsy. Rude. Not the normal type of gushing and idealized language she was used to hearing to describe her grandmother.

Kate liked those strong descriptors. So much so, she decided to give him a pass on his male-centric terminology. She also concluded that where Jarvis had, at first, appeared squat, on closer inspection, he could be best characterized as solid. His muscular forearms and intimidating gaze made him look like a seasoned street fighter, even if his slightly baggy black suit and power tie were luxurious. He was also a lot younger than she’d expected. She’d bet he was in his early fifties, which meant he had been younger than her when he first became Gloria’s agent.

He turned to his staff. “It’s okay. I’ll handle them.” He thumbed through a pile of files on his desk, pulled one out, and read from it. “Kate, right? And you’re Dylan.” He looked up at them. “See? I was expecting you, until an emergency came up.” He gestured for them to sit in the chairs next to Lillian on the other side of his desk. “But I’m a sucker for a gutsy broad, so I’ll give you ten minutes.”

Jarvis sat Sphinx-like as he listened to Lillian weave her tale. When she revealed the discovery of the missing footage from Emperor Smythe, even the famously omniscient Jarvis Benjamin’s jaw dropped.

For her finale, Lillian pushed a letter across his mahogany desk. Kate knew it to be from an attorney for Nash’s estate. “If you will use the power of your studio to back Kate’s and the Nash estate’s claim, they will both support Infinity Studio’s control of the footage.”

Jarvis tapped his fingers on his desk with the steady pace of a metronome. “No.”

Kate glanced at Dylan, who looked like he was going to bolt from his seat and declare the whole day a waste.

“Kate’s claim to the footage is weak,” Jarvis said. “And even recognizing that Nash had a sweet deal of a contract where he retained certain rights, I’m sure my lawyers will tell me the film is Golden State’s product. I’d end up with nothing but legal fees and—”

“We knew you’d want more,” Kate interjected.

Lillian glanced at her with a tight smile before she returned her attention to Jarvis and her performance. “Yes. So I went to Santa Barbara and spoke to the Nash estate’s attorney personally. The estate has agreed to give you an option to buy Winston’s original script at a reduced cost. Think of it. Infinity Studios will have the sole right to remake the film.”

“No one’s ever gotten them to agree to sell it at any price.” Jarvis’s eyes narrowed. “Can you really deliver that?”

Lillian smiled. “Yes. Unlike you, or anyone else in Hollywood for that matter, the Nash estate trusts me. But there are conditions.”

She cocked her head like a coquette, a part Hollywood never let her play, before continuing. “In return for the right to remake Emperor Smythe, you will use your resources to champion Kate’s and the Nash estate’s claim of the found footage against Sutton’s studio claim. We know you may not win. We just ask that you try.”

Jarvis ran his index finger across his polished desktop. “And?”

Lillian turned all business and rattled off the terms like a law partner instructing an associate. “The estate gets one percent of gross profit on the remake, and if we prevail on the right to distribute the original, one percent profit on that, with the condition the Nash estate gets to approve the final cut. Kate here, a talented filmmaker in her own right, only asks to work with the editors, get in the union, and gain the experience.” Her performance complete, Lillian leaned back as if expecting him to come to her.

Jarvis shrugged. “Golden State Pictures would probably accept those terms just to have you go away and not challenge their claim. Why do you need me?”

Kate stood. “The footage needs to be seen. Sutton may agree to our terms, but if he gets it, he’ll bury it. Everyone knows Smythe is based on him, and the missing footage was the most damning part of the film. In fact, until finding the footage, I’d assumed, like everyone else, he’d been the one to destroy it.”

Jarvis stared at her. And she realized the blue of his eyes was not faint at all, but more like the color at the center of a flame.

She gulped before continuing. “What we want is a guarantee that the film will be preserved and shown, no matter what happens.”

“I’m surprised preserving Winston’s film is so important to you…considering…”

“I don’t give a damn about Winston! It’s that my mom—”

“Audrey.”

“Yes.” Kate smiled. He had remembered her. “She claimed the camera was left rolling the day Gloria was killed and recorded Winston threatening her on the set. I want the world to see him terrorizing Gloria and know without a doubt that Winston killed her.”

“Ah. Revenge.” Jarvis leaned back in his leather chair. “Who do you think you are—the goddess Nemesis?”

“No. Justice.” Kate took a step toward his gargantuan desk.

He stared at her for a while, his face unreadable. She glanced at her aunt, who appeared to be holding her breath. Finally, he laughed, the sound all the more warm because of the sense it was rarely used. “Good answer.”

Kate rolled her shoulders back in triumph. After all, she had just made the most powerful man in Hollywood laugh.

Dylan interjected, “Of course this is assuming we can save the footage. It’s in bad shape. I’m not sure it is even salvageable.”

“But you want to try,” Jarvis said.

Dylan nodded.

Jarvis pulled a one-page document in his file and glanced it over. “I’ve looked into your background. You apprenticed at AFI under Ken Bresnick. He gave you a glowing recommendation. I also had a reader take a look at some of your scripts, and he said you’re not without talent. My question for you is, why? What do you get out of all this?”

“For one,” Dylan replied, “the Jarvis Benjamin notices that I’m not without talent, and maybe you’ll give me a shot at adapting Nash’s script for the remake.”

Jarvis’s expression remained flat.

Dylan cleared his throat. “And to be able to bring back to life the famous lost reels of what may be the greatest film ever made would be amazing.”

“If I agree to your conditions, then you all must agree to mine, number one being that I control everything: strategy, marketing, restoration. Everything.”

They nodded. How could they not? During the course of the meeting, Kate had watched Jarvis’s expression flit from impatient, to cold, to seductive, to calculating.

Jarvis turned to Lillian. “I’ll talk to my lawyers. I smell a sizable profit with the remake, benefiting from all the publicity about the discovery of the old footage and the inevitable rehashing of the scandal. The public loves that stuff.”

“But—” Kate began.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m still going to try to win the rights to the original footage. If those reels you found show the world how Winston bullied Gloria, then I’m all for that, too.”

“Did you love her?” she asked.

Dylan coughed.

Lillian looked horrified.

“Of course.” Jarvis’s eyes softened. “We all did.”

“But you were different from the others. That’s what my mom said. You weren’t trying to claw a piece off Gloria like everyone else. You were her friend.”

“I hope she thought that.” Jarvis gave an awkward laugh, looking as if the years had melted away and he was a kid again. His expression was short-lived.

His mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed as he returned to the subject of business. “My first order is we keep this quiet until my lawyers are prepared to take on Golden State Pictures. Is that understood?”

Kate opened her mouth to protest.

Jarvis silenced her with a steely look. “Only until the footage is fully restored and ready to be shown, I promise. I want to make sure no one—not even Sutton—can stop us from getting the film in that condition. The preservation process should start right away, but not in a public facility.”

He turned to Dylan. “Because you already know of this discovery, I’m going to trust you with the restoration.”

“Great!” Dylan said.

“I get to assist,” Kate said.

“Fine,” Jarvis said. “Okay, Dylan?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Good. Write me a list of what you need, and I’ll set up my guest house as your lab.” Jarvis stood and motioned them toward the door.

Kate held her ground. “I’m not going to just hand over the film to you. My claim is possession. Where that film goes, I go.”

Dylan stood next to Kate. “The process includes some volatile chemicals. The restoration shouldn’t be done in anyone’s house.”

Although a good four inches shorter than Dylan, Jarvis stepped in front of him as if he were nothing more than set decoration. “My Bel Air home has a cottage far enough away from the main residence and should work fine as a lab.”

“I don’t know,” Kate said.

“Tell you what,” Jarvis said. “If you insist the film not leave your possession, why don’t you and Lillian be my guests and stay at the house until the restoration is completed?”

Her aunt’s eyes brightened at the suggestion, but Kate wasn’t so sure.

Jarvis turned to Dylan. “I assume you don’t need to camp out at my house, too.”

“No, sir,” Dylan said.

“Good. It’s settled.”

“Oh, we couldn’t possibly.” Lillian’s smiling face didn’t match her shaking head. “That would be too much of an imposition.”

“I usually stay at my beach house. I’m hardly ever there, and the place is large. I’ll have it arranged.” Jarvis held his office door open as they filed past him into the reception area.

The three of them walked out of the building in silence. Once they were safely in the parking lot, Dylan whooped. “Goddamn! Am I crazy, or did that bastard just say yes?”

“Don’t call him a bastard,” Kate said. “He’s on our side. And I thought he was fascinating.”

“Huh? Don’t be fooled by that fatherly twinkle in his eyes when he looked at you.”

“He had no such thing,” she said.

“You’re right…the look he gave you wasn’t fatherly,” Dylan said pointedly.

“He’s just a savvy businessman.”

“You’re both correct,” Lillian said. “A man doesn’t climb out of a rough upbringing and beat all the silver-spooned lads to be the top man in Hollywood without knowing how to be ruthless.” Lillian stabbed an index finger at Dylan’s chest. “And you behave, because we just got ruthless to work for us.”

Kate hugged her great-aunt. “You did. You were incredible!”

“Oh, it was nothing. I’m just an actress who believes in preparation.”

“Except,” Kate said, “I’m not sure about living in his house. I think being there would be weird living with some old guy I don’t know. I mean, running into him in the kitchen wearing shorts and eating toast.”

Lillian sniffed. “I doubt Jarvis owns shorts.”