“The CEO is a long time frenemy of mine…”
“Frenemy?”
“Yes, frenemy, Blake is helping me hip up my vocabulary…”
Ian held back the snort as best he could. “Okay…”
“Any way, you have pissed him off to no end.”
“I have? I’m sorry, Mr. Turner. Please, what have I done?”
“Well, my boy, you apparently have put a stumbling block, oh screw it…Pearce Warner. It seems Warner has informed CNN that he’s no longer willing to negotiate with them until he has a chance to talk with you.”
“Oh, yes…”
“America Alive? Pearce Warner?”
“Well, Mr. Turner. It was just an idea…I put in a call to him, tried to persuade him, but didn’t think it would go anywhere. I’ll be happy to call CNN and make any rectification you see fit.”
“Don’t you dare,” Turner even stamped his cane. “He’s exactly what we need. Good move, and if we steal him away from CNN, I’ll do a little dance. They’ve been stealing my people away for years. Whatever you have to offer Warner, you got it. Get it done. That’s an order.”
“I’ll do my best, sir.”
“Walk an old man to the elevator?”
“Absolutely.”
Ian gave the old man his arm, and Turner gratefully appreciated the help, complaining as usual that getting old was “shit”.
As they waited for the elevator, Ian, although he hated skipping links in the chain, turned to his prime resource. “Mr. Turner, I was wondering if you could help me with a little dilemma?”
“I’ll do my best, Young Justyn.”
“I’ve been having a little trouble tracking down a contract.”
“Have you contacted legal? They should be able to send down anything you need almost immediately.”
“That’s always been the case before, but they seem to be either taking their time or ignoring my request for the ‘Sebastian Manor’ contracts. I’m sure it’s an over sight, but they keep sending me copies of the original contract, but not the current.”
“I’m sure it’s just a mix up.”
“Probably. I really need the current to note any changes so I can make sure that any decisions we make are not only financially feasible but legal.”
Turner nodded his head. “I’ll put in a call myself. Anything else?”
Turner and Ian looked up to find Lance Crockett had appeared in front of them.
“Crockett? Are you still popping out of the woodwork?” Turner glanced up at the tall man with a thinly disguised look of disdain on his face.
“I got off the elevator, Mr. Turner. Didn’t you hear the doors open?” He said smiling.
“We were engrossed in conversation.” Ian told him. “We just weren’t paying attention. Did you need to see me?”
Crockett handed him a folder. “Just dropping off the itinerary for Wednesday’s press conference.”
“Thank you.” Ian took the folder, and quickly looked at the pages. “I’ll let you know if I have any questions.”
“Certainly.” Crockett turned back to the old man. “Shall we share the elevator, Mr. Turner?”
“No, you go ahead.” Turner waved him away. “Young Justyn and I aren’t quite finished here.”
“Certainly.” Ian help but couldn’t notice that Crockett almost bowed. Realizing he’d been dismissed from court, Lance returned to the elevator, pressing the button with a little ding.
“Listen, why don’t you just…” Ian started to say.
Turner took Ian’s arm, and pulled him a step back from the elevator, intently watching Crockett until the elevator arrived and had shut to whisk the man away. “What do you think of him?” Turner asked.
”Personally?” Turner nodded his head. “I really don’t know him other than he arrives, gives me an extremely detailed list of what I’m supposed to say, right down to ways to answer any questions that might come up.”
“And?”
“And he gets very irate if I don’t follow everything to the letter, which means he’s perpetually pissed off at me. That’s it.”
“He’s one of Kent’s people. Kent talked Tolan in to hiring him when old Seymour Budzynski retired. I should have stepped in, but I hire people to do a job and I really do my best to let them do it.”
“You don’t like him?”
“Not that I don’t like Crockett, I just question…ahh, never mind.”
“Mr. Turner, you’re the boss.”
“Of course I am.”
“Just thought I’d remind you of that.”
Turner looked at the elevator and then back to Ian and smiled. “Yes.”
The elevator doors opened, Turner and Ian both looked up and smiled as Saxon Allen stepped out of the car. “Ian, my boy, if nothing else, you have the most beautiful women waltzing in and out of your office. I may just pull a chair up here in the foyer and just enjoy all day long.”
The old man reached his hand out to Saxon, who tenderly took it. “Ms. Allen, thank you for gracing this humble building with your beauty this fine day.”
Saxon blushed. “Mr. Turner, as always, you know just how to make me feel like a woman.”
“Oh, if only I were younger.” He said. “My dear, if only I were younger.” The old man looked at Ian and back to Saxon. “I’ll be on my way, and let the two of you spend a little quality time together.”
Turner stepped into the still waiting elevator. He pushed the button to his floor. “Well, kiss her hello, you fool.” He shook his head in disgust. “Young people!”
It was almost a shock for Ian to see Saxon in casual slacks and a conservative blouse. He couldn’t help but smile, thinking that this was when she was her most beautiful. Ian took her hands and kissed her on the cheek.
“Thank you for the flowers. I got up and walked into my living room and it was filled with yellow and white pedals. Thank you.”
“Thank you for a wonderful evening.” He said. “Shall we head to my office?”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
There was small talk as they took the twenty or so steps to Ian’s office. They stopped for a moment here and there to say hello to various staff members, and for Saxon to plant a kiss on Blake’s cheek and give Wella a big hug. They had no idea that all eyes were upon them.
After Saxon had commented on the painting Turner had given to Ian, and rehashed the prior evening, they got to business. Saxon had read the two scripts and the synopsis of story ideas for the series written by Jenson Michaels. She was intrigued with the man’s writing enough to be serious in wanting to discuss the possibility of working with him, and Ian, as Executive Producer of the show.
“Of course, I’ll need to meet with him so we can see if we can work together.” She smiled at Ian.
“I’m warning you, Jenson’s a newbie, but I think he’s just what you need.”
“What might that be, prey tell?” Saxon quipped.
Ian looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. “A virgin to screw up your way.” Saxon giggled. “Okay, I’ll set it up, and…” He reached back to the trusty backpack, now resting on the sideboard behind him. “One more thing.”
Ian pulled a script out, going directly to Saxon and placing it in her hands. “Here.”
“What’s this?”
He pulled a chair closer to her and sat down. “I’ve debated on this all day, but I’ve decided it’s the right thing to do. Once you read it, you may not agree.”
She looked at the cover and back up to him, “Quarters?”
“It’s a movie script also from Jenson Michaels. I asked him to send me everything he had. The original script he gave me was a little too pat, so I talked him in to just bringing over his file cabinet. That’s where we found the series, and hidden away was this…” He rubbed his hand across the front of the script, “This shocking little…gem. I’ve not been able to get it out of my head.”
“What’s it about?”
“Saxon, let it just hit you straight on. I think you’ll end up with the same reaction I did. I’m in television, not film. That’s why I’m passing it on to you. The female lead is perfect for you, maybe even more than what you had in mind. I’m not sure it’s even doable, but take a look.”
“Mmm, anything that stirs your passion up, has to be…” She cocked her head and looked at him. “Let’s not go there.” She waved the manuscript at him. “This will be perfect reading on the plane.”
“You’re taking a trip?”
“Yes.” She tucked the script in her shoulder bag. “I leave tomorrow morning.”
“I didn’t realize that you were flying off somewhere.”
“Spur of the moment.” She stood and squeezed his hand and walked toward the door. “Rudy’s taking me to Sydney. I’ve always wanted to go.”
“Rudy?”
“Rudolph Van Patten,” She put her hand to her chest, “My paramour. We’ve been on the outs, but he called this morning and is determined to whisk me off my feet again. So I’m going to let him.” She laughed.
“I didn’t realize you were dating someone.”
“We’d broken up, but I think that he got a little jealous seeing all those pictures of us. So, he’s come crawling back.” Saxon put her arms around Ian’s waist. “Of course, I’m going to make him grovel, but I think he’s the one, Ian. I really do.”
She put her head on Ian’s shoulder and squeezed him close. “Every time you come into my life, the best things happen.”
Ian rubbed her back and stared at the painting on the wall. “That’s what I’m here for.”
“Well, Clem, gotta run.” She kissed him on the lips and pulled away. In an instant she was out the door, and Ian could hear her blowing kisses and saying goodbye to everyone as she went to the elevator.
Ian pursed his lips and sighed. He made a few phone calls, signed a little paperwork and then packed his pack and turned off the lights. As he slowly walked toward the elevator, Blake handed him a little box.
“You’re cell phone. Don’t drop it. Don’t throw it in the pool. Don’t run over it with the car, and for cryin’ out loud don’t lose it!”
“Yes, sir.”
“And here…” Blake handed him a slip of paper.
“I got your reservations, Wednesday night, 7:30. Do not be late and make sure you tip the matre’d at least a week’s rent. Everything else I attached to your credit card.” Blake smiled.
“Perfect.”
“Did you tell her? Was she impressed?” Blake wanted all the details.
“Yes. Thank you.” Was all Ian said before he wished Blake a good night and walked away. As he passed by the foyer he said goodnight to those who still remained. Daryn stood at the elevator, as he approached.
“May we share?” He asked her.
“Of course.”
“How’s the boyfriend?”
“Great.”
“I wanted to thank you for coming up with the ‘Blood Kisses’ idea. I think you’re right, hopefully we can tie it all up in a nice little bow.”
“I hope so.” She smiled as the got in the elevator, Ian waiting until she stepped in first. They rode to the lobby in silence.
“Daryn…” Ian stopped her as she headed for the door. “I wanted to give you this.” Ian handed her the reservation information. “As a thank you for your hard work. Take off early, get all dolled up and have a night to remember, on me. Everything’s taken care of…except tipping the matre’d.”
“Oh my God, Ian.” She looked at the paper. “Do you know how hard this place is to get into?”
He smiled. “Just enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”
Daryn kissed him on the cheek. “I can’t wait to tell Darrell.”
Ian watched her rush off on a cloud of joy, almost forgetting to stop by the front desk and sign out. The older black man behind the desk turned the book around and handed Ian a pen for him to sign.
“That was awful nice of you, Mr. Justyn.”
“Rusty, how many times…?”
The older man nodded his head and chortled. “Ian…I can always tell a member of your staff just by watching them leave.”
“Oh?”
Rusty nodded his head. “They’re always happy or excited. It’s a nice change to what normally stomps out that door.” He turned the book back around.
“I’m glad.” Ian smiled and turned to leave.
Rusty spoke up so he could hear him as Ian pushed at the glass doors. “Yup always happy. Look forward to the day you do the same Mr. Ian.”
Ian stopped, but only momentarily, then continued to the garage.
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