Chapter 13: Big Plans

For the next episodes, Pris’s struggles as a newly self-employed ambulance chaser were superseded by the two-episode story arc about Lady Tamara and her hunky submissive. Walt Schaefer was indeed playing the devout doormat for his mistress. Comedy was not really his forte, but he was a cool dude to work with, and he had fun going against his tough guy image. Samantha Farnwell in her Lady Tamara persona did a great job as a manipulative user, and paired up against Jenn, we had verbal fireworks on the set.

Meanwhile, our creative team got creative crafting a personality for Lucy Tanner. We all agreed to make her an influencer and ‘You Tuber’ with a large following, crafty and ruthless in the pursuit of her financial gains, but also an inane chatterbox. We began to record a number of fake posts in which she spouts both her outrageous statements and her shameless plugging of merchandise. I, or rather Ricky the character, was secretly infatuated by her, and I had to sit in front of a computer playing her social media posts, with the camera catching the clips to introduce the Dallas Dubois character to the viewers.

We also created social media accounts in the same name and uploaded the same posts. Shortly before Christmas, the first episode with Lucy Tanner’s indirect presence aired, and within three weeks, the fake Dallas Dubois had half a million followers already. For the Christmas episode, Ricky Ryder buys Christmas gifts following the product placements in the fake posts, and over the January, we kept the pot simmering until mid-February, when Pris represents Dubois in court, fighting a copyright infringement lawsuit. The case has merit, but Pris, suppressing her moral reservations, gets the woman off due to a technicality.

Dubois visits Pris to give her the check for her services — a sum that saves Pris’s fledgling practice — and when she sees that there is an empty room, she asks to rent it. Pris, trying to get rid of her, cites an outrageous rent, but Dubois just whips out her checkbook and pays for four months in advance, moving in during the last minute of the episode.

Due to the existing hype about the fictional Dallas Dubois, the episode, titled ‘Bought’, was the most successful ever for us, and even the critics loved it. In the next morning, Marc Gingham and even Gary Lattimer, NBS’s CEO, visited the set to offer their felicitations. That week, we topped the ratings for the first time, and the fake Dallas Dubois channels went through the roof. Also for the first time, we had a midseason celebration party for cast and crew.

We followed up with more of Dallas in the next episode, when she has to fire her mother/manager for shamelessly bilking her business accounts, with Pris representing her in the court proceedings. Having a prominent client, brings more clients to her small practice, alleviating her financial crunch and allowing her to give Terry Duke a small raise. That episode was still successful, if not quite as much, but nobody complained.

We even made money with the Dallas Dubois channels, allowing NBS’s advertising partners to place banners on the site. Sharon and I went to Gingham, and he authorized a pay raise for Brenda and a regular staff job for Chris, who was by now handling the social media channels. Lucy Tanner was also getting a cut from the ad revenue.

If there was a downside, I was feeling it. Between my own time on the sound stage and my increasing workload as co-producer — Sharon was already being groomed for a more senior position — I was getting a little frazzled. We had to hire a well connected casting agent for the sometimes tedious search for actors and actresses to play the bit parts, the waitresses, bank tellers, shopkeepers that make a show look alive. Even my lessened screen time due to Lucy’s growing role in the show helped a little.

This was made up for by our increasing need to show together in public, sometimes taking up all our free time. The PR people were only too happy to trot us out to all and sundry talk shows and events, until things cooled down in late May. We were shooting the season-ending episode 23, and this one saw Mel Renault-Olsen back. She was reprising her previous role, but not as a wallflower anymore, but as a bit of a seductress. She tries that with Ricky, too, but contrary to his image, he refuses her offer explaining that bedding literally hundreds of women at the porn shoots has made him jaded.

This was done to prepare the viewership for the next season, when Ricky would take on a nine-to-five job in his original profession as physical therapist, partly because he begins to have romantic feelings for Pris.

Once that episode was finished, we had the season end party, where all the upcoming changes for the next season were announced. Lucy would be a series regular, George would leave us, with Brenda taking over his position, Terry would also become a regular — she had sold her erotic advice website — and Jean would take over an assistant producer function, overseeing the shooting schedules, and reducing his directorial tasks a bit.

As soon as everything was finished, Jenn and I went on a trip to the east coast. The primary reason for our destination was that Jenn wanted to meet my parents. That was not my idea at all. My parents and I had maintained a 14-year radio silence, ever since I appeared in my first adult movie. More to mock them than for any other reason, I had sent home 14 Christmas cards in that time, receiving nothing in response. I knew they were alive and well, but I certainly was not on their birthday card list. Now, Jenn had wheedled their names and address out from me, and she insisted that we should visit them. Thus, we had tickets to JFK and reservations at the 1 Hotel Brooklyn Bridge for three nights.

I called my parents two days before our departure, at 4 pm, to catch them before they sacked out in front of of the TV, and Jenn sat next to me, riding herd and making sure I behaved. It was my mother who picked up the landline phone.

“Borgward here,” she announced.

“It’s Richard, the prodigal son. Can we talk or will you just slam the receiver down?”

Jenn cuffed me.

“Talk!” she said curtly

“Okay. Oh, my fiancée is sitting next to me, and you’re on speaker.”

“Fiancée!” mommy dearest snorted.

“I’ll make it short. We’ll visit New York for a few days. Jennifer is very close to her family, and she thinks we should visit you and Dad. Since I love her, I promised to try. We can meet somewhere for dinner if you prefer that.”

“Who is she?”

“Her name is Jennifer Saint David. She an English actress and the star of the NBS show Utilities Included, my co-star as a matter of fact.”

“We do not watch shows like that.”

“That’s right. I remember you don’t like to laugh. So, what’ll it be? Can we meet?”

“One moment, I’ll ask your father.” We heard the receiver being placed on a surface none-to-gently, and then, distantly, “It’s Richard. He’ll be coming to New York with his fiancée, some actress he picked up ... Yes, from that show he’s in ... Well, if you think so ... But not here! I’ll not cook for him and that woman.”

Jenn was goggle-eyed by then and her mouth formed ‘What the fuck?’.

‘Told ya,’ I mouthed back, but then mommy dearest was back.

“We agree. When?”

“We’ll fly into JFK on Thursday. Would Friday evening suit you?”

“Yes. Six o’clock at the Colloseo, on 18th Street. We’ll invite.”

“That’s kind of you, Mom. Do they have a dress code?”

“Casual, by our standards. Just don’t come in your work attire!”

“Looking forward to seeing you, Mom. Jennifer sends her regards. Bye!”

I closed the call and looked at my love. “Told ya!”

“What. The. Fuck? That woman could be my grandmother’s bestie. What is it with her?”

“Well, she’s an elementary school teacher, and me waving my dick around in those smut flicks didn’t garner her much respect at work.”

“And your father?”

“He’s a junior high school principal. Even worse.”

“You were supposed to be a teacher, too?”

“No, I was supposed to become an academic, or better, a doctor. My grades weren’t bad, but honestly, once I’d tried out in the skin flicks, I went ‘Hey, great, they pay me to boink!’ I was a bit stupid then, but hey, I still made something of myself, right?”

“Yes, an ass,” Jenn agreed with a laugh. “I take it, you won’t depend on what you’ll inherit from them?”

“Wouldn’t help. When they showed me the door, they made it clear that their worldly possessions would go to a charity. I’ll have to mooch off you.”

“I want you to pack your producer suit for that meeting, understood? I’ll wear my charity event costume and the Manolo heels. We’ll also change that car rental to a foreign model sedan. A pity we can’t take the Beemer.”

“Really? They won’t be impressed at all. I’m the wayward son and you’re some unspeakable, low-life actress to them.”

“Do it! For me!”

“Yes, my dear,” I answered humbly. “Just don’t expect me to sit still if they insult you to your face.”

Normally, five and a half hours are a long time, but flying business class makes it a little easier. Learning that we were going to New York, one of the PR honchos had bribed us with the upgraded tickets to appear on Friday afternoon for the taping of a popular late night show. Ratings on the East Coast were still a little weak, and we were to drum up viewers for the affiliates there. We would be finished there in time for the dinner with my parents. Another boon was that NBS would pick up our hotel bill, nothing to sneeze at given New York room rates.