Filthy Beast(22)

The porch is large and mostly open, with a beautiful view of a deep, gorgeous in-ground pool and the sprawling LA cityscape spread out below. The sun is setting slowly as I step over toward the table and size up what I’m dealing with.

Sitting at the head of the table is Harold. I vaguely recognize him from the first table reading. He stands up and grins at me. He’s balding, with a hawkish nose and deep-seated blue eyes. He’s shorter than I am, though most people are.

Next to him is a guy I don’t know. He’s shorter than Harold, with thick dark hair and a dour expression on his face.

And sitting across from him is Holly Hart.

“Jackson!” Harold says, coming over to me. “Great of you to come, I’m really glad.”

“Yeah, of course,” I say, shaking his hand.

“This is Franklin, an executive from the studio.” The other guy nods at me and I nod back. “And of course, you know Holly.”

“Evening, stranger,” Holly says, smiling at me.

I smile back. “Evening, lady.”

“Come on, sit down. Food’s ready if you’re hungry.”

I take my seat at the other end of the table and a waiter appears with a tray of food. I take a little surf and turf type deal, with a lobster tail and a nice cut of steak. He also hands me a glass of whisky. Obviously they did their homework about me.

“You know, Jackson, the studio thinks this movie could be huge,” the executive says as I dig into my steak. I’m fucking starving.

“I bet,” I say to him. “We’re killing it. All thanks to Holly.”

“No, we hear it’s all thanks to you,” Harold says quickly.

I glance over at Holly and she frowns but says nothing.

“Really, Jackson, I saw a daily. Those action scenes? How do you do it?” Harold asks.

“I just picture the Taliban and go from there.” I grin at him a little bit. SEAL shit like that usually goes over well.

Both men laugh and Holly just gives me a polite smile. She’s not buying my bullshit, which is fine by me.

“Seriously, it’s all the training and the stunt guys. I just do what I’m told,” I continue, sipping my drink.

“Well, whatever it is, keep doing it,” Harold says.

The others start eating and I notice that Holly looks a little nervous. I don’t know why, but she’s not looking at me. Things have been weird since I rejected her, but I don’t think that’s the reason.

“Tell me, Jackson, how’s that director working out?” Franklin the studio guy asks me.

I shrug a little bit. “He’s fine. A little weird. But he knows what he’s doing.”

“We’ve heard stories,” Franklin says. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with him?”

I narrow my eye in his direction. “Would it matter if I’m not?”

“Of course it would,” Harold says, cutting in. “We want you to be happy.”

I look at them a little and shrug. “He’s good. I’m comfortable.”

They nod and smile at me, but I’m feeling a little weird. Actually, this whole thing is strange. Why is Holly here, and why would both of these guys need to be at this one dinner? These are two powerful guys, they don’t take meetings like this for no reason.

I finish off my steak and sip my drink as conversation turns to trivial things. Holly is quiet so Harold does most of the talking. When everyone is finished and leaning back in their chairs, I notice Franklin giving Harold a little look, and I don’t like it one fucking bit.

“So boys,” I say to the two men. “I have to ask this. Why are you two sitting down with both me and Holly right now?”

Harold smiles a little at that. “You don’t like to play games, huh?” he asks me.

“Not really,” I admit. “I’m just wondering why the producer and a studio executive would want to have this little meeting.”

The two men share a smile and Harold sighs. “Okay, so you see through it. This isn’t some social call.”

Holly turns ghostly white. I try and ignore that. She’s been in this business longer than I have, and I can only imagine what she’s thinking right now. Maybe we’re about to get fired or something.

“Here’s the thing,” Harold continues. “Like I said, we all think this movie can be big… and we think it can benefit from some publicity.”

“You see,” Franklin cuts in, “your relationship with Holly here is an integral part of the film, right?”

I hesitate a second. “You mean the relationship our characters have,” I say to him.

“Not exactly,” Harold says. “I mean literally, your relationship with Holly.”