Flowers in Bloom

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Dan stepped out of the lift into the swanky, ultra-modern offices of his management company, Walter Moreaux Enterprises – WME. There was a flurry of activity at reception as the female staff jostled for position to be the first to greet him.

“Good afternoon Mr Flowers,” one of them purred. “I’ll let Mr Manolo know you’re here. He asked that you head directly to his office.”

“Thank you,” Dan smiled and walked down the corridor, chuckling to himself at the commotion he had caused. He reached Vinnie Manolo’s office just as he was coming out to meet him.

“Hey man.” Vinnie slapped him on the back. “Come on in.” He motioned for Dan to take the seat across from his desk.

Vinnie’s office was a shrine to his first love – the movies. There were original film posters on the walls, signed photographs from some of the biggest stars in the world, and several dozen pictures of him with his clients.

“You said you had some papers for me to sign?” Dan hated the business side of his profession. He had no interest in investments, stocks and shares, or moving money off-shore, but Vinnie insisted he ran through every minute detail to keep him fully informed.

“Yeah.” He slid several documents across the table. “Just a signature on this one, and I need you to read through the small print on the contract from Universal. The lawyers have approved it but you need to know the finer details.”

“Can I take it home to read later?” he asked Vinnie. “I’m completely wiped out. I only popped in as I was passing on the way back from the lot.”

“Sure thing. But I want your feedback or approval tomorrow morning as they’re pushing hard to get it signed.” Vinnie shifted in his seat. “Did you read that script I dropped over last week?”

“Give me a bloody chance, Vin. I’ve literally just finished shooting.” Dan glared at him. “I gave it the once-over and it’s a load of bollocks. Why did you even put it in front of me?”

“Because I promised Steve Tanner that I would show you. He’s super-keen to get you on board.” Vinnie sat down opposite Dan. “But now you’ve read it, you can throw it in the trash and you’ll be able to answer him honestly when you see him next week.”

Dan laughed. “You think it’s awful as well?”

“Sure. And I knew you’d never go for it,” he grinned.

Vinnie was a great agent, one of the best in the business. Of Italian descent, he was short, olive-skinned and stocky. He started out in the mail room as an ambitious eighteen-year-old in love with movies. Now, almost three decades later, he was a partner at WME and handled a dozen of the most talented and famous actors in Hollywood.

Dan had popped up on his radar when a British friend raved about his performances in his BBC drama series ‘All in at One’. He was a complete unknown, but Vinnie had a gut feeling about him and pushed him hard for his signature on a management contract almost as soon as he moved to LA. Vinnie had been Dan’s agent for a decade and they were close friends as much as business partners.

“Are you two done?” Maddie Mitchell, Dan’s smart, sassy, well-connected publicist stuck her head around the door. “I need to run through the schedule.”

She handled all of his media appearances, interviews and press conferences, and was his last line of defence. She had been in the business of promoting movies and their stars for over twenty years and was known as a real ball-breaker. She was dedicated, loyal, and excellent at her job.

“I told the studio PR guys we’d work around the movie promotional schedule, but there are a few things that have come up I think you’ll wanna do.” She scrolled through her iPad and turned it around to show Dan.

“Really?” Dan feigned surprise. “Inside the Actors Studio wants me?”

Maddie laughed. “I don’t know why you’re shocked. You may not believe you’re a big shot but the rest of the world thinks you are.” She looked at Vinnie. “Tell him, will you?”

“He knows he’s hot property,” Vinnie smirked. “He’s just yanking your chain.”

Maddie rolled her eyes. “Of course, it’s all down to me. Nothing to do with your acting abilities.”

“Ha. You keep telling yourself that.” Dan grinned. “What else?”

“The Late Late Show. James Cordon wants you on.” Maddie consulted the diary. “I just don’t think we can get it in right now.”

“Shame.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I like James but the studio is running me ragged and I’d rather pull back on everything else for now. Apart from Actors Studio. I really want to do that.”

“I’ll confirm with their people,” Maddie replied. “There’s a few magazine interview requests – GQ, Men’s Health – and the usual demands from the British tabloids.”

“They can all bugger off.” He stood up to leave. “Are we done?”

Maddie nodded. “Yeah, all good with me. I’ll email you later.”

“Vin?” He asked his manager.

“I want to bring you up to speed on a new project. I think it could be what you’ve been looking for but the script isn’t completed yet,” he replied.

“Then let’s talk about it when it is.” Dan called over his shoulder as he walked out of the room.

He was desperate to get home. He had been surviving on a few snatched hours of sleep a night for almost a month. Now the film had wrapped he could relax for a few weeks before the press junkets to promote the opening of his latest movie, ‘Catch me when I fall’. He would be attending premieres in six different countries over a two-week period, with TV and radio appearances in each one.

The traffic was unusually light for downtown LA and he was back home in the Hollywood Hills in no time. The electric gates swung open and he wound up the driveway towards his house. It was a modern, white-washed mansion set in five acres of lush grounds dotted with palm trees and a stunning array of colourful blooms. There was a vast swimming pool, a tennis court, and a movie screening room. The interior was sleek, modern and masculine.

Dan sighed as he walked through the front door. He missed England, and his family and friends, but he had made a good life for himself in LA. Along with Vinnie, his agent, he had a great team around him – Ken Kennedy, his personal manager; Maddie, his publicist; and Coby McBride, his incredibly camp but efficient PA. He had grown close to a few other actors and industry bods, but he still hankered for home.

He grabbed a beer from the fridge in the kitchen, kicked off his shoes and flopped down on the sofa with the television remote control in hand. After a few seconds of channel surfing he found the BBC’s coverage of Wimbledon and settled back against the deep-filled cushions to soak up a taste of home. The day’s action was being covered in the highlights show and he was struggling to stay awake to watch. As his eyes were closing he caught a glimpse of the presenter and was immediately struck by her luminous on-screen presence.

“Hello, beautiful,” he muttered before finally succumbing to his exhaustion.