I pull up out front of Franklin’s place. It’s gated, like every fucking house out here, but fortunately it opens as soon as I pull into the driveway. The house itself is set back from the front. It’s large and white with big white columns, sort of a cross between colonial and Greek styling. It’s honestly fucking ugly and absurd, but people love this shit out here.
I get out of my car and climb up the steps. I ring the bell, which is this big booming sound that I can’t help but roll my eyes at. A minute later, a little girl pulls open the enormous wood door and looks up at me with these big blue eyes.
She’s maybe four years old and is absolutely adorable.
“Hey there, sweetie,” I say. “Is your daddy home?”
She nods her head.
“Can I see him?”
She nods her head again but doesn’t move.
I smile and kneel down in front of her. “What’s your name?”
“Ashley,” she says in her tiny little girl voice.
“Ashley, pretty name. Do you like movies, Ashley?”
“Yes,” she says. “Daddy makes movies.”
“That’s right, he does. I work in your daddy’s movies.”
She smiles at me. “Actor,” she says.
“That’s right, I’m an actor.”
“Actors are all scum,” she says. “Daddy says that!”
I stare, completely fucking shocked, as she turns and runs back into the house. I can’t believe the little girl just said that. I burst out laughing, not able to help myself as I stand back up. He must say that a lot if she’s repeating it.
I push the door open a bit. “Hello?” I call in.
A second later, Franklin comes around the corner, followed by his daughter. “Jackson?” he asks, cocking his head. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m really sorry,” I say. “I just need a second of your time.”
He takes a deep breath and sighs. “Okay. Five minutes.” He kneels down in front of his daughter. “Now, honey, what does daddy always say about actors?”
She smiles sweetly at me. “Best people ever.”
I grin at her and wink and she giggles before Franklin sends her away. That must be what he wants her to say, but clearly little Ashley knows her daddy better than he realizes.
Doesn’t matter to me. I think all studio execs are scum, so we’re even.
I follow Franklin into his obnoxiously gorgeous house, and I have to wonder if the guy makes more money than I do. We head into his study and he sits behind his desk, gesturing for me to take a seat in front of him.
“Okay, you have me,” he says. “Pulled me away from dinner. My wife can cook a mean fucking steak, you know that? Gives a mean blowjob too, but I get the steak more often.”
I fake a laugh but I already hate this guy. “I’m here about Holly,” I say, getting down to it.
He groans. “Save your breath, Jackson. Your agent already tried.”
I clench my jaw slightly. “I want out.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says. “You wanna finish this movie? You need to stick it out.”
“I was thinking about that.” I say. “We’ve shot a lot of the movie already, or at least the important bits. If I walked now, you’d still have to pay me for what I did so far. Then you’d have to find a replacement, someone that can draw an audience like I can, and you’ll have to pay them to work last minute and fast. Plus all the footage you lost, all the crew you’ve paid, it’ll all get pushed back.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Studio has a lot of money.”
“Sure they do, but we’re talking millions here. How confident are you guys in this film that you can do it without me at this point?”
He stares at me for a second before laughing. “I have to admit, you’re the real deal, Jackson Hendricks.”
I grin at him but there’s nothing behind my smile.
“Listen, here’s the truth. We don’t give a fuck about this movie. It’s just some summer blockbuster bullshit. It’ll make us some money and then we’ll move on.” He opens a drawer in his desk and takes a cigar out of a box. He clips it and lights it as he talks. “We don’t care about you either, Jackson. Sure, you can act and your story is pretty fucking cool, but you’re replaceable. Everyone is fucking replaceable. It’s when you start to think that you’re important that you get fucked up, you understand?”
He puffs on his cigar and leans back in his chair.
“I hear a lot of talk, but you’re not saying much,” I reply. “I want out of this fake relationship.”
“I want my wife to let me fuck her up the ass, but we don’t always get what we want.”