I was running late, as usual. I bit my bottom lip in frustration, as I tried to unlock the door of my Audi, while balancing my bag, briefcase and heaps of folders. Once I finally settled in the drivers seat, I clicked the Garage opener. As the garage door slowly slid open, it revealed the white outdated Camaro that belonged to my neighbor. It was conveniently parked right in front of my car, making it impossible to back out.
That was it, this day was going terrible, and I was about to lose it. “Stanley!” I screeched, throwing open my car door and stomping over to his front door. “Stanley, open the door now,” I yelled banging on the door. A few seconds later the door opened, and out stepped a shirtless, Stanley, with his annoying, cocky, grin.
“Hey neighbor,” he smiled, giving me a once over.
“This is the third time! How many times do I have to ask you to quit parking right in front of my garage?” I asked.
“What? no good morning?” He chuckled.
“Stanley,” I said through gritted teeth, “move your car, now.”
The urgency in my voice must have caught his attention, because without another word he pulled out his keys and started towards his car. Stanley was the most aggravating man on the planet, he was constantly throwing loud parties, forgetting to park in the right parking space. And there was the occasional night where he would be so plastered, that he’d stand at my door singing old country songs. Ava thinks it’s charming, all I could think when his ballads woke me up in the middle of the night, was how annoying and out of tune he was.
Charming? definitely not. Irritating? Oh yes.
“You’re too fast paced for California Rachel, why don’t you get back to your New York roots?” Stanley said, rolling down his car window, and giving me an arrogant smirk.
“Talk to me when you learn which garage is yours,” I winked, heading back to my car.
My first thought when I laid my eyes upon Frank Marshall, was that he was painfully handsome. So handsome, in fact, for a split second I felt my knees buckle. My dad had said he was a new, and successful, director, but he had conveniently left out the part about him being closer to my age, than his own. Sneaky, dad, very sneaky. Frank wasn’t your conventional type of good-looking, no, he was so much better. He looked like he just stepped out of some black and white film, where he played along side Elizabeth Taylor, or Audrey Hepburn. A man of both looks, and intriguing wit, that only came with travel.
“Sorry I kept you waiting,” I breathed, as I took the seat across from him. It had taken an additional thirty minutes for me to get to Woodlands PR. Although, had I known what Frank Marshall looked like before then, I might have pressed that gas pedal a little more.
“Normally I would be a bit offended,” he smiled, “but in this case, I’ve found waiting around for you, to be quite a pleasure.” He must have seen me blush, because right after this, he followed up by complimenting my staff at WPR, for their attentiveness.
“Well thank you,” I chuckled, “now it seems that we actually have business to attend to.” I almost surprised myself with the comment, after meeting Frank I almost forgot the importance of this meeting. Frank was directing a movie for a rather popular book called Autumn Nights, and thankfully, through the recommendations of my father who was producing the movie, reached out to me to help with casting. This opportunity was huge for my agency. If I was able to make one of the actors that I represented the next Jennifer Lawrence, or Kristen Stewart, WPR would become one of the top PR firms that worked in both entertainment and fashion.
For about an hour, Frank and I threw around a bunch of names that we envisioned being casted for Autumn Falls. Occasionally throwing in a flirty comment just for fun. We watched countless numbers of recorded monologues that WPR kept on it’s clients. Until we finally settled on a list of people we were going to call in for live auditions.
“Rachel,” he said, catching my arm just as I was about to leave. “If you’re not busy tonight, I’d really like to buy you a drink.”
I knew better than to say yes, If there was one thing I learned from moving to Los Angeles, it was that mixing business with pleasure was not always a smart choice. Maybe it was the excitement of this new project, or the way Frank was looking at me. Probably both. I ignored my common sense, and replied with a simple, and confident ‘yes’.
For anyone who might not know, this was the second part to my previous post, Late Engagements.
Have a great day!