Chapter Five

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Monday morning at breakfast, while Mollie jabbered about London, Billy kept thinking of Leslie whom he hadn't yet called. "It was so much work moving my stuff to the new flat, but it was worth it," Mollie said, as Billy smiled paying no attention. 

He didn't know what to do, or if Leslie gave a damn. Still, he found her appealing, but so damned young -- even for him. 

"Of course my roommate's older and I don't really know her well, but it saves me a lot of rent," Mollie babbled some more. 

"Uh-huh," Billy said, wrapping up some ham sandwiches, wondering if he could at least become Leslie's friend. But how could he be a pal to someone he really wanted to sleep with? 

At the studio, Billy went for coffee and overheard Greta, the Hungarian casting director, complaining to Frieda about a casting snafu. "I just found out Csaba signed Rosza to a one-year agreement," she said. "But she's committed to be in a play at a theatre 200 kilometers from here." 

"Csaba, Csaba, he's such an ass," Frieda said, and then she headed for their office to bawl the producer out. 

Billy tentatively approached Greta whom he'd only met briefly. "I couldn't help hear your problem," he said. "Are you open for suggestions?" 

Greta smiled at Billy, more effusive than she was feeling, and said in her pseudo English accent," Absolutely! We're in a panic!" He told her about Leslie, and how bright and pretty she was. "Has she done any acting?" she asked, bothered that he was butting in, but pretending to be glad he did. 

"I'm not sure. But she has lots of personality, and if you have time to see her..." Then he gave her Leslie's number, wondering if he'd done the right thing as he poured a cup of coffee and headed to his office. 

Rodney wouldn't be coming that week. He was going to Helsinki for pre-production on the Finnish show. But he'd faxed his comments on the previous work, which prompted a snickering Jeremy to pull Billy aside. "Take a look at what he said about Mollie." 

As Billy read the handwritten notes, which Mollie hadn't seen, his eyes widened, causing Jeremy to snicker some more. "Boy, he can be cutting," Billy said nervously. "'This story goes nowhere and is a waste of paper and toner.' 'Babble, babble about nothing.' God, Mollie's going to freak." 

Jeremy shook his head and said, "She has it coming. She stinks. Read the next page, it's priceless." 

"There's nothing here, but 'ZZZZZZZ' and more 'ZZZZZZZ' under every paragraph. You think this means he doesn't like it?" Billy said sarcastically. 

"Oh, man, don't you worry, you're obviously a pro, she's not," Jeremy said affectionately, touching Billy's shoulder. Glancing at the pages, Jeremy regained his composure. "Well, this means a major re-write, which I guess we can both share." 

"What'll we tell Mollie?" 

"Nothing. We'll just give her the notes," he said, which Billy felt harsh. But then Jeremy spent several weeks with her and was probably frustrated. 

When Mollie came in, she found Rodney's fax, but Billy couldn't let her read it without some sort of warning. "It's pretty tough," he said. 

Mollie grinned nervously and said, "Really? Oh. Hmmm," as she read it. "Wow, you're right," she said, covering her shame with amusement. "Wonder what kind of weekend he had?" 

Finally, she put it down and said she'd do a rewrite, but Jeremy diplomatically told her it would be better to think up stories for the next week's shows. "You're sure?" she said. "I think I know what he wants." But this was a belief shared by nobody else. 

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