Welcome to 1926. The beginning of Hollywood.
But for actress and petulant diva Victoria Singh--a woman who's gone from rags to riches, it's all but a dream. With movie sets, interviews, parties, and events, she has her hands tied while still dealing...
She didn't have a busy film shoot to attend to until later—so for today I had to get her coffee, and take her to some big interview day at one of the radio stations that she had to go on.
That didn't sound too time consuming at all. Note my sarcasm.
Of course however, I had to be the one to drive her now since the man from yesterday decided to quit this morning according to Eddie who gave me a ring earlier but a great excuse for me to cut ties with a beauty named Marissa.
Or maybe it was Mary? Karen? I was just guessing at this point.
But either way, she kept calling me by her ex's name all night.
She was rather an easy target to pick up at the bar nonetheless after I informed her I worked for Victoria Singh now—which lately in my life if I had to deal with the diva, easy was perfect for me.
"Do I look like a raging fool to you?!" He now questioned.
"Sir?" I asked genuinely baffled, eventually lifting the hat back up.
He then flashed off a piece of paper in his hand, waving it up in the air and in my face snickering. "This is what you call a front page scandalous story?! Oh please, allow me to read it for you! It's gonna be the latest chin music of the city!" He started off, now looking down to the page. Just great, here comes the complaining again. As if I didn't have enough of that in my ear already. "How Miss Singh trashes away expensive garments. Written by Daniel Collins." He let out with a smug smirk.
Hey, I didn't see what was wrong with that. The woman was practically throwing money away that the Victoria I knew would've handled it a lot better.
That is if she actually even channeled into her goodhearted conscience anymore.
"So I'm guessing you don't like it?" I sighed, sitting further up.
"Like it?! It's one of the worst I've ever seen! My three-year-old son could write a better piece than this. Now, is that how you want us to be represented? A bunch of kids chattering on a playground!"
In my defense, the woman was tight shut as a pen top. I wasn't surely the only one who had to be left holding the bag. What else was I supposed to do? Dangle the dame out of her three story balcony until she decides to talk.
Well...I did like the dangle part if I do say so myself.
But even with us being together all those years, she just seemed so closed off and close minded to anyone or anything that came her way now. Like none of our memories truly mattered to her—which must've meant neither did I.
"Well, playgrounds were always entertaining..." I tried to reason with the fella.
But yet, he simply glared more enraged and grunted.
"You know what else will be entertaining? You out on your butt on the sidewalk with a 'will work for free' sign. Now, I'm giving you one more shot. You made me a promise and I expect you to keep it. But this time, remind yourself and me why I even hired you at all. Do not waste it." He ordered, moving away.
After a while, the phone suddenly rang in front of me.
Oh come on, what now? Did he already make it back to his office and wanted to call and ask me why I looked so pathetic next?
"Thanks for calling LA Times, this is Daniel Collins! Where am I directing your message to?" I let out distressed.
"Oh come on smoke-eater, work can't be that painful." I heard Nate on the other end of the line.
"Trust me, you have no idea. What's eating you?" I asked.
"Nothing for now...but let me just set the scene for ya! I'm relaxing at one of the local cafes downtown, and I ordered a small black tea-" He started to say.
I don't think so. I definitely didn't have time to hear this mess.
"In two seconds, I'm about to hang up on you and pretend that this call got disconnected by the operator." I interjected.
"Okay, okay! I just wanted to know how would ya feel about getting a new car? We can even get the new 1926 Packard Twin 6 Roadster, with that new thing called a heater too!" He spoke with such high hopes.
Oh come on now, where was this coming from?
I loved my motorbike more than anything in the world. Made me feel free as an eagle and just enhanced the bachelor life the ladies drooled over. But a brand new car did kinda sound nice though I guess. It surely may impress a few more skirts for me too.
"I'm slightly open to it! You got some car money?"
"Not me, but one of Moon's men came again into the shop and ordered a few things and noticed we worked together before. He apparently got him one for making some new moonshine recently and they let him walk free after. It was easy, he said! Danny, I'm tellin' ya fella! This may be truly a sign that we should just take the deal too and become rich again! That's all I'm asking. I can't make this any simpler." He explained.
God, not this again. It was becoming even more odd that Santo's guys were even finding him so much. I could only beg and pray that they didn't keep harassing us.
They had already left us alone for five years, they could easily continue to do the same. Though I couldn't handle this type of incriminating conversation at my job. Whatever else he had to say, he could wait till I returned home...or not at all.
My mind had been made up from the moment he opened his mouth. "No! I'm hanging up now! And don't ever call me again at my job about this Nate or we'll both be arrested. Please!"
"Ugh! Fine." He simply said, doing so for me as I hung up.
I knew his heart was simply just in the right place, wanting the best for us both and needing no one else to depend on if it meant we made it. But sometimes he could be even draining too.
Bottom line, I needed to make sure I got this one more shot right, or my job might not be the only thing that's on the line.
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Poor Danny! Feels like he's being backed into a corner. :(
See ya next time!
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