Everybody Comes to Hollywood Ch. 01

Roger Beckett, the producer, and Anton Martin, the director, followed my gaze and smiled at seeing the female lead of their movie coming in. She dismissed her entourage and then made her way across the restaurant towards us. We all stood up when she arrived at the table, Beckett and Andrea sharing a short peck before sitting down.

Our leading actor arrived five minutes later, and the five of us delved into a heated discussion over how to create our Hollywood blockbuster.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur. I recovered enough to discuss the vision of the movie, arguing enough in preservation of my dreams, but knowing enough to back down when the producer demands control over how he's spending his money. Remarkably, Andrea still remembered almost everything from my vision of the script back in High School, and argued to keep my ideas very much intact for me.

Mostly, I found myself kind of staring at her. I hadn't seen her in six years, and I'd forgotten how beautiful she was. One of the men asked how we knew each other, and Andrea demurely replied, "We're old friends."

My heart was racing like a teenage schoolboy's, and I just smiled back at her, praying that no one else at the table noticed the electrical connection crackling between us. It was all I could do to pay attention to anyone else.

When the power meeting was over, Andrea and I stood up and exchanged warm hugs. Almost instinctively, I turned my head and started forwards to kiss her, but then backed off once I realized what I was about to do. Andrea similarly was backing her head away, her face flushed with momentary embarrassment and she glanced at Beckett to make sure he wasn't watching us.

Then, having made up her mind, she leaned in and kissed me on the cheek before turning away suddenly and striding towards the door in a major hurry.

I didn't start breathing again until she was out of sight.

***

I got to the office the studio had provided me for the duration of my contract. It was relatively large, well-appointed, and featured a decent view of the Hollywood Hills. There were already a dozen messages for me concerning this and that. I had now been in Hollywood for over a month, and we were still working on pre-production. The set designer wanted to revisit the bar scene. Beckett wanted to talk to me about adding another female boob-role. The list went on and on. But my schedule for the day had already been cleared. I was auditioning today.

Our casting director had screened through hundreds of actors and actresses for the various roles involved in "The Amazon." Once they made it through that selection process, however, the key roles had to be reviewed and approved by the director, the executive producer, and the writer, which meant me.

In most cases, the major roles had already been filled by name actors we had mutually agreed upon, but there were still a host of supporting characters to decide upon. The top three to five candidates, people who had already auditioned twice by now, were separately brought to me and then the director, and finally our producer.

To some extent this process became tedious very quickly. The wisecracking bartender, the strung-out junkie, the sage old boat captain. All of these characters had but a few minutes of screen time, but I certainly wanted the final actor to stay true to the picture in my head when I'd written the piece. Very rarely did anyone ever "get" the character I had envisioned. And while I felt sorry for some of these struggling actors, I despaired over having to pick the least BAD actor of the lot.

But then it came time to cast "Tina Woodbridge." The character was the classic Bond sexy-but-evil-girl. A tall blonde bombshell from Britain, the character was to seduce the main hero and in general, distract him away from his mission. She was, of course, a deadly fighter to boot.

Along with Andrea, this was going to be the woman that millions of teenage boys would be drooling over and be ready to pony up $9 per ticket to see. The right actress would be a relative unknown, with minimal previous acting exposure. This would be a breakout role. But at the same time, she had to exude sex appeal and athleticism, handle the accent, be the epitome of female physical perfection, and possess enough moxie to pull it all off in a big-budget movie.

The first girl I auditioned wasn't even close. And it took a monumental effort on my part to be polite throughout the entire audition. She definitely was a blonde bombshell, but this particular girl had the intelligence of a carrot. Her accents were horrible and I figured she would be good for nothing but eye candy. She tried to be flirtatious, but I was completely turned off by her and sent her off to the director for her next attempt.

The second woman to audition wasn't half-bad as an actress, and she definitely had the body for the role. Big, fake tits and a nice ass, long legs. A native Londoner, she had the perfect accent and the right amount of huskiness in her voice. She happened to be a brunette, but I didn't see that as a major problem for the movie. We role-played one of the scenes back and forth, with me in the role of the hero. While I found her both attractive and seductive, she seemed to be trying to seduce ME instead of the character, even going so far as to grope my crotch in the middle of a scene, which I KNEW wasn't in the script. She gave me a wink and a promise to "make it worth my while" if I could help her along in the auditioning process. Then off she went to seduce Anton Martin.

Now everyone who comes to Hollywood knows about the casting couch; but I had never really thought about actual opportunities for me. I was just dreaming about bending this hot Englishwoman over my desk and reaming her out when the phone rang.

I shook myself out of my reverie. It was Bethany, calling to say hi. We chatted amiably, the comfortable conversation of two people who had been around each other for more than four years. She whispered that she missed me, and momentarily wondered if we couldn't still work this out. I had to admit I missed her. Not only for her reassuring presence, but I hadn't been laid in quite a while. She laughed off her emotions on the fact that she wasn't used to being single anymore, and that our friendship was for the best. She didn't help tame my current arousal though, whispering suggestive thoughts in my ear and giggling before hanging up.

I found my Tina Woodbridge with actress number 3. The instant she walked through the door I knew she was the right one. Tall, lithe, and confident, Skye made her presence known. Blue eyes so pale they seemed gray pierced me with such intelligence, as if she were already studying me and determining how best to pick me apart. Golden hair with a silky shimmer cascaded down her back. She wore a tight-fitting black turtleneck and leggings ensemble that instantly reminded me of La Femme Nikita, and she glided across the room with the grace of a panther. When I said "hello" she merely inclined her head in response and slid into a wing chair facing my desk, crossing her long legs and resting both hands on the armrests.

I slid behind my desk to conceal a rapidly rising boner, and did my best to get the audition started. When she spoke, she had a distinctive European accent that I couldn't quite place, and immediately I started rewriting the character in my mind to fit Skye the actress. She carried herself with such confidence and maturity I was amazed to find out she was only 19 and after changing her name, she had come to Hollywood from Europe, along with her sister, to make it big in the American movie industry.

Her voice was intoxicating, and we flirted shamelessly for over an hour, until one of the studio secretaries had to come and tell me that she was late for her audition with Mr. Martin. We both stood up, and when I shook her hand in goodbye she leaned forwards and gave me a chaste peck on both cheeks, and then she was gone.

***

I got lunch with a fellow studio writer I'd become gradual friends with over the past few weeks. He asked how the audition process was going and more importantly, to him at least, whether I'd tapped into the wonderful world of the casting couch just yet. Apparently, he had bagged four different girls ("Grade AAA eggs, man..." as he put it) on the last project he'd done.

"And they weren't even expecting any promises in return. They just jumped into my bed and hoped for the best. We even cast one of them."

I mentioned that there were a few that caught my eye, and for the rest of the lunch I had visions of Skye twisted up in my sheets while staring deep into me with those brilliant eyes of hers.

When I returned there was only one audition left, but I was so wrapped up in my daydreams I didn't even check the name. So when the knock came at my door and I opened it, I felt pleasantly surprised. Skye was standing before me, her blue-gray eyes startling in their clarity, shining out and appraising me while I ran my gaze appreciatively over her perky tits and sculpted body. The only difference was that she'd changed into a new set of clothes, this time a flowing blouse and skirt combination.

"You're back! How were your other auditions?"

She smiled, and held a hand over her mouth coyly. "You must have me mistaken for my sister," she giggled in that intoxicating accent. "My name is Sienna."

My eyes must have goggled out but I picked up my schedule and scanned it hurriedly. There it was, same last name. I smoothly recovered, reaching out to shake her hand and welcome her in. "I just wasn't expecting you to be twins."

We started the audition, and read from a few of the scenes. It was then that I realized how impossible this was going to be to choose between Skye and Sienna. Both had the perfect grace and smoldering sexuality the role demanded. While Skye played the cool assassin with more edginess, Sienna brought out the warm sensuality in the seduction scenes.

Partly because I was already familiar with her sister, I was flirting with Sienna left and right, and at the end of the audition, Sienna gave me the same two-cheek kisses.

I finally got around to checking my messages. The one from Beckett about adding another boob-role had strict orders to not read until after I'd concluded my auditions, so I figured now would be a good time to catch up on it.

Lo and behold, Beckett was commenting about turning Tina Woodbridge into TWO different women. I was amazed at how he'd put together this proposal before even meeting Skye or Sienna. Kinda freaky... One of the twin assassins would be seducing our hero while the other was off pulling a job, and they would switch back and forth without anyone (including the audience) ever knowing there were two of them until the villain's motives were finally revealed. Even the movie credits would only list one name until after the release date.

It would take some rewrites, but we already had the perfect pair of twins. And I already had the new plot outlines in my head.

***

I was on the way to my hotel after work when my cell phone rang. My heart skipped a beat when Andrea's voice came on the other end of the line.

"Got plans for dinner?" she asked. I could feel the hopefulness in her voice.

"Uh, not really."

"Meet me at Cicero's. Twenty minutes. You car should have them in the nav system."

Then aand line went dead.

It was a little presumptuous of Andrea to assume I had agreed. On the other hand, I already knew as soon as she asked that I was going to meet her. I guessed that she had known as well. I'd been loaned one of the studio's Baby Benz's, and it took me a moment to figure out how to ask the navigation system how to get to Cicero's.

It actually took me closer to half an hour to get there (I got a little lost), but I soon arrived at the posh bistro in the hills. The instant I walked through the door, her personal assistant came up to me and led me back to a private room. Behind a thick velvet curtain, Andrea was waiting for me with a cozy little Italian dinner. I was momentarily immobilized by her stunning beauty, but recovered after a moment to enter into the room.

The table was oriented to give us a view of the beautiful cityscape illuminated by the night lights. An attendant informed me that the window was mirrored on the opposite side so that no prying cameras could see into our room.

We got settled and Andrea gave me the usual Hollywood "air kiss" next to my ear while pressing her cheek to mine. I looked across at some delicious looking salad, breadsticks, and my favorite, classic spaghetti and meatballs. She just smiled while watching me scan the meal, and reached out a hand to my thigh. Nothing really sexual, just comfortable.

"So how have you been?" I asked. "We've got a lot of catching up to do." Meanwhile, I started to dig into the food, serving up a decent helping for Andrea before filling my own plate.

"I'm great. Busy, you know, but great. I'm so sorry I haven't called already before this. Got tied up on a shoot in Morocco."

"Man, if I had a nickel for every time I heard that one..."

She laughed, not a coy flirty giggle, but a full throated laugh that helped me let every last bit of tension between us melt away. For a few moments, I saw Andrea for my best friend and girlfriend from High School, just a vivacious, innocent, and idealistic girl. Bright violet eyes, her dirty blonde hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. Casual clothes to better blend in and avoid the paparazzi. And her smile was simply warm and engaging.

"You know that's one of the oldest jokes in Hollywood. You're going to have to come up with better stuff if you want to survive in this town. Come on, you're supposed to be a writer."

"I'll work on it."

We talked for the next twenty minutes or so, filling each other in on the little details of our lives. Her studies and blossoming career. My writing and the script. It was the same as when we were in High School. The easy banter back and forth, the little smiles and warm fuzzy feelings in my stomach. Then Andrea said something I never really expected to hear, and all those fuzzy feelings collapsed under years of questioning and confusion.

"I missed you."

"Well, I could tell," I muttered sarcastically. "That's why you stopped calling." I was surprised at the twinge of hurt in my voice. When we moved on in college, I had never really gotten closure with Andrea. In a way I never got her completely out of my system.

But before I could apologize for my tone, Andrea was already answering. "And I'm sorry about that. Times change. People change. And in the end I think it worked out alright." Her smile became a wistful half-grin. "But in six years, I've never found anyone else quite like you."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just kept eating. My emotions were swirling around the possibilities of where this conversation could go. I also noticed now that she hadn't even taken a bite off her plate.

"In college everyone had their own thing going on. Then, after the Oscar, everyone treated me differently. I was this big Hollywood actress, so everyone either tried to attack me or kiss up to me. You were the last person with whom I remember being able to really be MYSELF."

I looked up, and Andrea was leaning towards me, staring right into my eyes intently. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and gazing into her face all the longing for and daydreams of Andrea came rushing back to me. I don't think a person ever really gets over that first love, and the emotions were threatening to overwhelm me.

"I have never felt as happy and content with my life since the time when I was with you," she half-whispered, her voice tense with the emotion.

Andrea reached up and brushed the back of her hand across my cheek. The last time she'd done that was the day she'd left for California. These emotions were hitting me so fast, I couldn't keep up. And as I felt a tear of my own rolling down my cheek, suddenly we were back in my bedroom, just a couple of teenagers madly in love and with our entire lives before us. Nothing existed except to create our own momentary happiness before age and responsibility took it all away.

Then I felt her lips on my neck, soft pads rubbing and nuzzling at my sensitive skin. Damn that felt good. "Cheater..." I mumbled.

And then I was inhaling her sweet scent while I felt her moist lips massaging mine. And then my tongue was pressing into her mouth, exploring those depths as if they were new and unknown while my hands cradled her head to me. All of the memories of teenaged lust and those first joyous moments of rounding the bases with a girl came racing through my brain. We were kissing like it was the most amazing and sweetest treasure, the way it was before sex or breasts got involved. And when I finally pulled away, Andrea's skin glowed with happiness and arousal, her violet eyes shining back at me.

Then there was a loud clatter of plates crashing to the ground somewhere out in the main dining hall, and then the walls of my bedroom disappeared to be replaced by the thick velvet curtain and walls of our private room at Cicero's.

Andrea was suddenly lost, her eyes wild. She slumped down with her forehead planted against the palm of one hand as she leaned onto the table with her elbow, trying to sort out her situation. "Oh god. If a waiter had seen that it would have been a field day. The gossip columns would have been all over me."

I was just too stunned to say anything. My heart had been pounding, my attraction to Andrea overwhelming any other rational thought. But then she was picking up her purse, mumbling a goodbye to me while simultaneously trying to flee the restaurant as quickly as possible without looking too harried.

And then I was alone in the little room, with nothing but my thoughts and an incredible boner. God it had been a long time since I got laid.

***

No matter how hard I tried, every single memory of Andrea and me exploring our budding sexuality as teenagers popped into my head. I had to work to concentrate on the road just to make sure I didn't crash on the way back to my hotel, and resolved to myself that I was going to have to rent a porno from the hotel or something and relieve myself before I would be able to sleep. Maybe Bethany would be up for some kinky phone sex or something.

But first, I needed a drink.

I wandered into the hotel bar, sat myself in a barstool and ordered a stiff cocktail. I had just tasted the first burning gulp when a husky voice with an intoxicating accent said, "Hello Mr. Writer."

I turned my head to see Sienna (or was it Skye?) sidling up to me on the next barstool. Taking a guess by the warmth of her greeting, I guessed, "Well hello... Sienna?"

"Very good!" The way she said that was NOT helping to relax my erection. Thank god I was sitting down. "I know you probably can't tell me, but how are the auditions going?"

Ah, that explained why she came up to me. "Oh, well, they're going fine, actually. We'll probably be making our final decisions tomorrow." That was real enough, and not exactly the most sensitive of information. But I knew I couldn't say anything about the rewrites I'd been planning for Sienna and her sister.

Sienna picked an olive out of her martini and ran it around her lips, her tongue ever so slightly poking out to lick at it. Damn she was going to be good for the seduction role. "But I don't suppose you could tell me how I'm doing?"

I grinned, expecting that type of question. "Everything looks great from where I stand. But I do have to consider every actress carefully." This was true enough, for all I knew, the new plot idea might not work out, and we could only cast one Tina in that case.

She reached out and slipped an arm through mine. "Would you walk with me? You cannot blame a girl for trying to plead her case."