Pandy put the phone down.
“I need that girl,” she said aloud.
The next morning, before the meeting with PP, Pandy risked her life crossing Sunset to get to the newsstand across from the Chateau. The road forked oddly, and anything in the intersection was potential roadkill. Pandy darted, stopped, darted. She imagined herself as John Belushi in Animal House.
She bought a pile of magazines and two packs of cigarettes, just in case.
“I hear you haven’t liked anyone so far,” PP said, leaning back in his conference room chair.
PP was a squarish man with a squarish head and smooth dark hair that resembled the sort of plastic coif favored by action figures. He had thick, blocky thighs that strained against the fine fabric of his black suit pants. He always sat with his legs apart.
“If you’re referring to Lala Grinada, you’re right,” Pandy said boldly.
PP—Pee-Pee—scanned the faces around the conference table, taking his time to pause at each one before he said, “Lala Grinada would never be right for this. Whose bad idea was that?” He tilted back in his chair.
“The agency,” someone said.
“Actually, there is someone I’d like to see,” Pandy interjected. “She looks right for the part, anyway.”
“Looks are something,” agreed one of the other executives—a second- or third-in-command, Pandy guessed. “Who is it?”
“Her.” Pandy laid out the array of magazines, turning to the pages that featured The Girl in a variety of ads—lingerie, fine jewelry, and perfume.
“Her?” someone asked incredulously.
“Is she the one with the—”
“The name? Yes. That ridiculous name that no one can remember.”
“SondraBeth Schnowzer.”
“How would that look in the titles?”
“Terrible.”
“What kind of name is that, anyway?”
“Austrian, maybe. Like Schwarzenegger.”
“Schnowzer,” someone said in Arnold Schwarzenegger’s voice.
There was benign laughter around the table.
“Sorry, darling,” someone said to Pandy.
“Hold on.” PP raised his hands from behind his head as his chair’s front wheels dropped to the floor. His dark eyes caught Pandy’s.
“It’s not that crazy,” PP said, addressing the room. “I happen to know she’s taking acting classes. Roger?”
Roger quickly looked down at his BlackBerry and tapped out a message. In a moment there was a light rap and the blond wood door opened a crack.
“Come in,” PP answered.
“I just wanted to give this to Roger,” a young woman said, making herself invisible as she handed Roger a piece of paper.
Roger scanned the document, then raised his sparse eyebrows as if impressed. “She has some real credits here. Mostly indie movies, but lots of them.”
“Indie movies. Meaning she’s a relative unknown. I love that.” PP pushed back from the table and stood up. “Interesting. Okay. Go,” he said, shooing them all away with his fingers.
Pandy lingered a moment as the others left the room.
“Thanks,” she said.
“You are just terrific!” PP suddenly exploded, and before Pandy had a chance to react, he embraced her in a bear hug.
Roger was waiting for her on the other side of the door.
“That was it,” he said, walking her down the hall. “You got the hug.”
“The hug?” Pandy asked, clutching the magazines to her chest.
“It’s a sign. PP likes you.”
“And that means what, exactly?”
“You’ve got a meeting with SondraBeth Schnowzer.”
Pandy stopped and stared at him as he paused to hold open the heavy glass doors that led to the elevator bank.
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“You’ll meet her, get to know her a little. If you still think she’s right, PP will make sure she gets an audition.”
“Wow,” Pandy said. “That’s it? It’s that easy?”
“Hollywood is an easy place when you know the right people.”
“Great!” Pandy enthused. “So when can I meet her?”
“Right now,” Roger said, pressing the button for the elevator. “The car will take you to a salon near the Chateau. SondraBeth will be there. She wants to get her hair done or something.”
A disturbing thought occurred to Pandy. “Is she high-maintenance?”
Roger shrugged and gave an exaggerated smirk. And in that moment, Pandy’s heart sank. She suddenly understood that this so-called meeting with SondraBeth Schnowzer was merely an indulgence, the studio’s way of making the author of the book feel special. When the meeting led nowhere—as they apparently suspected it would—the studio would go back to doing whatever it was they planned to do from the beginning. They would do it with impunity, and they wouldn’t think twice about doing it without her.
As Pandy got into the elevator, she decided that wasn’t going to happen.
The salon was in a small shopping center on Sunset, a few blocks from the hotel. When the car pulled up, Pandy spotted SondraBeth on the sidewalk, head bent over cupped hands.
She was lighting a cigarette.
She was wearing a fringed suede jacket that looked expensive, possibly Ralph Lauren.
She had on a pair of men’s pea-green trousers. She’d rolled the waist down to reveal the silver-gray lining and the tops of her hip bones.
As Pandy got out of the car, SondraBeth glanced over hopefully. She was still looking hopeful as she took in Pandy’s appearance: her long, swinging hair, stylishly short yellow skirt, and fancy black-and-white patent leather heels. A front tooth pulled back the edge of SondraBeth’s lower lip as a look of dismay crossed her face. It was quickly replaced with a grin. “Hey,” SondraBeth said, as if she, too, were in on the joke. “I’ll bet you can’t even get me this job.” She tossed her head as if it didn’t matter.
Pandy laughed. “I’ll bet I can.”
SondraBeth got the cigarette lit. She exhaled a stream of smoke without taking those topaz-green eyes off Pandy. She shrugged. “If you can’t, it’s not your fault. I deal with this bullshit every day.”
“Listen,” Pandy said quickly. “I hate salons—and my hotel’s right up the street.” Sensing a skittishness on the part of The Girl, she tried to make the invitation sound casual. “I’ve got a bottle of champagne in the fridge.”
She needn’t have worried. At the word “champagne,” SondraBeth suddenly relaxed, dropping her cigarette and grinding it under a gray-and-white snakeskin cowboy boot.
“Now, that sounds like a plan,” SondraBeth replied eagerly. “Champagne. It’s the best offer I’ve had all day.”
“I’m at the Chateau.”
SondraBeth smirked. “I figured.”
“Bungalow One,” Pandy added.
She got back into her car. When she went to close the door, her hands were shaking.
“D’you mind if I wash my face?” SondraBeth asked as she entered the bungalow a few minutes later.
“Not at all.” Pandy went into the hallway that led to the kitchen and opened the door to the powder room. “In here.”
“I just want to wash off my makeup.” SondraBeth stepped inside the bathroom.
“No problem.” Pandy smiled broadly as if to reassure her. “I’ll open the champagne. PP sent the bottle last night.”