Chapter Seventy-Eight
Seventy-Eight
That week, just like it happened almost every month, Quaddra was back in Los Angeles, but this time he really did have several work meetings to attend.
His film production company had been approached by one of the largest TV studios in America to run the entire production and marketing for two brand-new TV series, both of them with budgets in the millions.
The first was to air in just three months, and the second in five, so time wasn’t something that they had in abundance.
Quaddra was spending most of the week in LA to personally oversee the negotiation of several different contracts and to sit in on auditions for roles in both productions.
It had been a very long Friday, after an even longer week, but they were finally done with the auditions for the first production.
In the past three days, Quaddra and his team had seen well over nine hundred actors and actresses, who were auditioning for just eight roles.
It had been a shattering process, but the team was positively confident that they had managed to select the best candidates for the roles.
The news would be communicated to the selected eight over the weekend and filming would commence on Monday morning in Malibu.
That was when the real exhausting work would start, they all knew that.
But for now, or at least for what was left of that Friday evening, it was time to celebrate a little because, truth be told, they had somehow managed to pull a gigantic rabbit out of a tiny hat.
To celebrate their massive achievement, Quaddra had booked a table at the famous Umbrella Social Club at the SIXTY Hotel, where he was staying in Beverley Hills.
The Umbrella Social Club was an exclusive rooftop bar and lounge that offered stunning views of Beverly Hills, Century City and downtown Los Angeles.
‘When do we start auditions for the second production?’ Quaddra asked, just as a young and very pretty waitress, with eyes that seemed to have been carved out of emeralds, brought two bottles of Champagne to their booth.
‘That’ll start on Wednesd—’ Bill Steeler tried replying, but paused mid-word as he clocked how attractive the waitress was.
Bill was the cast director for both series and just like Quaddra, he’d sat through all nine hundred plus role auditions in the past three days.
‘Damn, you’re incredibly pretty,’ he addressed the waitress, who politely smiled back, as she poured Champagne into six flutes.
‘Thank you, sir,’ she replied in a sweet voice. ‘I appreciate the compliment.’
‘Are you an actress, by any chance?’ Bill pushed.
‘No, sir, I’m not.’
‘Would you like to be?’
Bill’s question got back a wide-eye look from everyone at the table, including Quaddra.
‘No, sir, I don’t think I would,’ the waitress finally replied.
It was Bill’s turn to look back at her with wide eyes. ‘What… you like being a waitress?’
‘No, sir, I like being a medical student.’ And with that, the waitress walked away.
‘Very fucking subtle, Bill,’ Quaddra said, once the waitress was out of earshot. ‘Would you like a bib to help you with the drooling?’
‘Did you all not see her?’ Bill asked, his stare bouncing from person to person on their table. ‘Her eyes? She’s absolutely beautiful.’
‘So is your wife,’ Emily, the company’s art director, reminded Bill.
‘I was just making an observation. That’s all,’ Bill came back, his hands up in surrender.
‘And salivating at the mouth while doing so,’ Emily added. ‘Like a ravenous wolf.’
‘Anyway, a toast,’ Quaddra said, lifting his glass at everyone. ‘It’s been a very challenging week, but I think that we’ve managed to select a killer cast. To a job well done. Cheers!’
‘Cheers!’ the reply came in a chorus of voices.
‘Yeah, but don’t get too comfortable, people,’ Emily reminded everyone. ‘Because we’ll have to start the process all over again on Wednesday for the second production.’
‘Yeah, but we have a little bit more time for that,’ Austin, Emily’s assistant, offered. ‘We won’t have to cram nine hundred plus auditions into three days.’
‘You’re right,’ Emily agreed. ‘We have five days for that, but we also have fifteen roles to fill, not eight.’ She nodded at Austin. ‘Expect another marathon.’ She turned to address Quaddra. ‘Will you be back in LA for the auditions again?’
‘I will,’ Quaddra confirmed. ‘I’m flying back to San Francisco tomorrow, but I’ll be back here on Wednesday. What time do we start?’
‘Nine a.m. sharp.’
‘I’ll be here.’
Despite it being a celebratory evening, none of them was really willing to make it a long night.
They were all exhausted, and they all had only two days to recoup before filming started on Monday, and filming was always a lot more demanding than auditions.
They finished both bottles of Champagne, had a single cocktail each, except for Quaddra, who had ordered a single malt, and called it a night.
Quaddra hadn’t finished his Scotch, but since everyone was already gone and it was still quite early – not even 11:00 p.m. yet – he decided to take his drink down to his penthouse suite and give Mary a call.
He exited his booth, walked around the lit rooftop swimming pool, past the bar, and into the elevator.
He had a sip of his whisky and was about to use his room key on the lift floor-button pad, when a very well-manicured hand stopped the doors from closing.
Quaddra’s eyes moved from his whiskey tumbler to the doors, which slowly slid open again.
The woman who entered the lift was simply stunning.
Her long brown hair was French braided, which made her look like some sort of goddess out of Asgard or something.
She wore an elegant, sleeveless black dress that screamed ‘first date’ – not too conservative, but not too revealing either.
She was slender, but with perfect muscular toning, and her eyes, which were as dark as her dress, had a hypnotic quality to them.
But it was the expression across the woman’s face and her demeanor that really caught Quaddra’s attention. She looked completely flustered.
Quaddra took a step back to make room for her, despite the lift being large enough to accommodate six people.
The woman looked up and their eyes met for a fraction of a second.
There was something in them that Quaddra couldn’t exactly place – some odd mix of anger, disappointment and sadness all rolled up into one.
She extended her arm to press one of the buttons, but her shaky hand hesitated for a beat, as if she was unsure of which floor she was going to.
‘Which floor would you like?’ Quaddra asked, nodding at the button pad. His tone was comforting.
Her hand recoiled. ‘Umm…’ She breathed out heavily enough for Quaddra to hear it. ‘Ground, please.’
Quaddra pressed it and the doors, once again, slid closed. As they did, the woman did a mini jerk, as if the sound of the doors closing unnerved her.
‘Miss, are you alright?’ Quaddra asked, keeping his distance. He didn’t press the button to his penthouse floor.
The woman kept her eyes on the door. ‘I will be, as soon as I get out of here.’
‘Do you need any help? Can I call someone for you? Maybe get you a cab to take you somewhere?’
The woman finally turned and looked at Quaddra. Her eyes stayed on his face for just a moment before they moved down to his whiskey tumbler. ‘Are you going to finish that?’
Quaddra’s eyes blinked at the question. ‘Ahh…’ He half extended his arm. ‘Would you…’
Before he had even finished the sentence, the woman took the tumbler from his hand and drank it down in one large gulp.
Quaddra’s eyes widened at her. ‘Salud!’
The woman cringed, as if she’d just drunk gasoline from the hose. ‘What the hell was that?’
Quaddra blinked again. ‘Macallan, twenty-five-year-old sherry oak release.’
She gave the glass back to Quaddra. ‘Sounds expensive.’
‘Hum!’ Quaddra pressed his lips tightly together.
She nodded at him. ‘Thank you. It… helped a little.’
Quaddra looked down at the empty tumbler. ‘You sound like you could do with another drink.’
The woman breathed out, but didn’t reply.
They reached the ground floor and the doors slid open again.
‘Would you like another drink?’ Quaddra asked, just as the woman was about to step out of the lift.
She paused and turned to look at him. Her beauty was mesmerizing.
Quaddra half lifted his empty tumbler at her. ‘I could do with another drink. This one seems to be all done.’
The woman looked like she wanted to laugh at Quaddra’s joke, but something was stopping her.
‘I’m not going back up to that bar… sorry.’
There it was again – the odd mix of anger, disappointment and sadness all rolled up into one, but this time it was on her tone of voice as well.
Quaddra nodded. ‘I’m fine with that. This is Beverly Hills. There’s no shortage of bars and cocktail lounges around here. Do you want to go find somewhere else?’
The woman took a moment to study Quaddra.
‘I’m not sleeping with you,’ she said, as she looked Quaddra straight in the eye. ‘If that’s what you’re after.’
He lifted his left hand and thumbed his wedding ring. ‘Good, because that was never on the cards.’
The woman took another few seconds, sizing Quaddra up. ‘So… you’re offering to buy a complete stranger a drink out of the goodness of your heart?’ A thin layer of sarcasm coated her words.
‘We are a breed in extinction,’ Quaddra said back. ‘I know that. Very, very rare, but there are still a few of us around.’
A ghost of a smile finally shadowed on the women’s lips.
Quaddra extended his hand. ‘I’m Thomas.’
Somehow, the woman was already expecting to hear that name. She gently shook his hand. ‘I’m Denise. Nice to meet you.’