Teaming With the Shrew
Copyright© 2025 by Argon
Chapter 7: Nice People
Back in LA, we were also back in the production treadmill. One of our planned guest stars had to beg off after a DUI and a very public brawl with police officers. He was out on bail, but as part of his defense strategy, he had publicly checked into a high profile rehab facility. We gave him a rain check for an appearance in the next season, provided we were renewed, and then scrambled to find a replacement. After sifting through a number of candidates and rejecting them for various reasons, I scrounged up all my chutzpa and called Mister Josh Hartwell of Warner, Hartwell & Mitchell, Attorneys at Law. He is the uncle and the only thing resembling a representative of actress Melanie Renault, of recent fame for her Oscar-winning performance in the drama Heart of Glass. She had also done a light-hearted romantic comedy in France, Lockout, which had premiered in December and was doing rather well at the box office. She had publicly announced that her focus would be on finishing her undergraduate studies at USC and then starting at a medical school, but perhaps she might want to scratch her acting itch with a guest starring role.
Wonders over wonders, Mister Hartwell accepted my call and I hastily introduced myself.
“Good morning, Mister Hartwell. I won’t take a minute of your time, Sir. I am a co-producer of the show Utilities Included on the NBS network.”
“I was aware of that, Mister Borgward. Is there a problem that you want to discuss?”
“Umh, not so much a problem. We lost a guest star the other day, leaving us with an opening. Having seen your niece, Miss Renault in Lockout, we would like to get in touch with her representative. She does not seem to be with any agency.”
“She isn’t. Her previous agent bailed on her, year before last. Anyway, she is focussing on finishing her BSc degree at USC. I can forward your request to her, but I cannot give you much hope.”
“That’s okay, Sir. It’s a Hail Mary pass from my side. Your receptionist should have my cell phone number. A simple text message from Miss Renault, yes, no, or not now, would settle the point. I am quite certain that she has more impressive offers, but since we’re not that impressive, we can accommodate her in any way.”
“I can pass this on as well. I do know that she and David watch your show and like it.”
“That alone makes my call worthwhile for me,” I laughed, more at ease now.
“Glad to help. Say, I read somewhere that you’re a colleague, back when that documentary aired on cable?”
“I have a JD, but then UI came along, and suddenly, I had a fun job.”
“I can imagine that. Should you ever be interested in reentering jurisprudence, give us a call. You seem to have a well-rounded practical knowledge of several niche aspects in show business.”
“I may take you up on that, Mister Hartwell, should the network cancel us or me. Anyway, I thank you for your time.”
“Not at all, Mister Borgward. It was nice to talk to you. I wish you continued success with your show.”
The line — well, the waves — went silent and I ended the phone app. It had been worth a shot, and knowing that a big entertainment lawyer like Hartwell was aware of us was quite flattering. I did not give it much more thought over the day since I had two scenes to shoot in the afternoon, but once I had finished and was in my wardrobe getting the makeup wiped off, I looked at my phone. There were two new messages from a number that I did not recognize. I looked at the first.
‘Let’s discuss it. Call me after 7. M.R.”
“Motherfucker!” I exclaimed, putting off the make-up girl, Tammy Edwards. “Sorry, Tammy. How would you like to do your magic on an Oscar winner’s face?”
“Yeah, right!” she snorted.
“You’ll see and learn, Tammy.”
I found Jenn outside. She was talking to Clarence, our head writer.
“Jenn, we need to talk. Clarence, can you bring Brenda-Lee to my office? We need to be creative ASAP.”
“What’s up?” Jenn asked as she followed me to my office while Clarence went to collect Brenda-Lee. I held up my phone for her to see the text message.
“M.R.? Really?”
“I got her uncle on the phone this morning and pitched our offer. Guess what: she and her boyfriend watch our show and like it.”
Jenn shrugged in assumed equanimity. “Sure. What’s not to like?” Then she giggled. “Really?”
“We’ll know more this evening, but we need some story outline to pitch to her, or she won’t bite.”
“Yes, but let’s wait for the writers. Having her on the show would be tremendous. We must offer a two-episode deal at first, to show our appreciation. She’ll probably nix that, but what have we to lose?”
“A valid point. So we need to develop a two-episode plot arc, that can be wrapped into one episode.”
Just then, Clarence and Brenda-Lee entered, and we quickly brought them up to speed. We spent the next half hour tossing plot ideas back and forth, mostly exploiting Renault’s former reputation as a difficult brat, but we were unhappy. Suddenly, Brenda-Lee held up her hand.
“Guys, I have an idea. Ricky, would you agree to skipping the episode?”
“Why?”
“Because we could bring in Renault’s boyfriend, David. He was a varsity player for the Trojans. He could channel the arrogant jock, and he’s crashing at the house because you are on a shoot in Italy, some soft core drama, and he’s your cousin who wants an off-campus love nest. Renault could be the one to rent the extra room, having changed schools during Spring Break. She’s a shy nerd girl who secretly admires David, but would never act on it. Now they are roomies for two weeks and she’s completely flustered. When he surprises her at night while having a snack in her pajamas, he suddenly sets his sights on her.”
“That’s great,” Clarence nodded. “They end up in bed, she full of expectations and he just getting his rocks off, and come the next morning, she’s cured of her infatuation and joins Jenn in ripping him a new one over being such a lousy lay.”
“Ricky needn’t sit out the episode. We can introduce a side plot with him in Rome on a set, playing in some swords and sandals drama — wait, playing in some Caligula rip-off. He’s being dubbed in Italian, and we show some really cheesy scene of him with bad dubbing at the end.” This was Jenn, adding her creative pennies.
Brenda-Lee cackled evilly. “That’s brilliant, Jenn. There must be some props around here for that. If they look cheesy, that’s even better.”
“You all like me getting egg on my face, right?” I queried, but I knew that they were onto something. There was one big ‘if’. “What if David Olsen does not want to do this? He is in med school.”
“Then we get her flustered over you, Stud-muffin,” Jenn laughed.
“Ha-ha! You really want me to pitch that idea to her? She’s been exploited since before her puberty. She’ll run for the hills.”
“Yeah, but let’s sound her out,” Jenn shrugged. “She may have ideas, too, or at least preferences. Let’s pitch our idea and see how she reacts.”
At 7:15, I made the phone call with Jenn at my side. We were still in my office. The call was picked up after just three ring tones.
“Hi, Ricky Ryder?” a voice asked with a giggle. I think I blushed.
“Sometimes, but never after hours,” I answered. It was my standard answer when called by my nom de porn.
“Well parried, Sir! Sorry, couldn’t help. You’re on speaker and David is with me.”
“Likewise, but it’s Jennifer Saint David with me.”
“Okay, you win,” she giggled, and in the background I heard a ‘Hey!’.
“Hi Mister Olsen,” I said nicely.
“Hi, Miss Renault,” Jenn chimed in.
“Please, call me Mel, and the beanstalk is called David.” Her giggle turned into a short squeak. “Cut that out!” I heard her hiss.
“I’m Jenn to my friends and colleagues; I only make Ricky address me as Miss Saint David.”
“Establishing your dominance. I get it,” Renault — well, Mel — returned. “It’s so difficult to train them properly, isn’t it?”
I was wondering how much wine she’d already had, but Jenn smiled.
“You have no idea. I mean, you got your boy toy fairly new and after a thorough refit. Mine was heavily used already.”
There was bright laughter at the other end before Mel continued.
“Hey, I can tell we’ll have fun together. We really love your show and the characters, and yes, Ricky Ryder, too. I’d love to guest star. There’s a problem, though. Davy is kinda jealous of my acting chops, and he made me promise not to accept a role unless he gets to act, too. So, we’re sort of a package deal.” In the background, more protesting noises could be heard.
“We already have a plot idea in that direction,” I admitted. “I assure you that his dialogue will not be in French.” Olsen had played an American ball player relocating to France for a year and his mangling of the French dialogue had been a running gag.
“So I won’t even need painkillers?” Mel asked. “Listen, I’m too silly tonight to get anything settled. I was thinking, have you guys any plans for Friday evening? We could have you for dinner. David is quite useful in a kitchen — stop poking me! — and we could talk things over face to face. Are you game?”
I looked at Jenn and motioned for her to answer. She was the star of the show after all.
“We’d love to come, Mel. When and where?”
“I’ll text you. I have to clear things with Uncle Josh first. I’m only renting. I suppose around sevenish. We’re on Loma Vista Drive in Beverly Hills. I’ll text you the rest tomorrow. Oh, you’ll have to tolerate Davy’s bratty sister at dinner. Don’t worry, we won’t demand a role for her.”
“That’s okay; we’ll love to meet her. Any dress code?”
“Not for you, but Davy insists that Ricky wears clothes.”
“Don’t worry. I have trained him properly and he’s housebroken,” Jenn gave back. “Okay then, we’ll wait for your text and hold ourselves ready.”
The call ended then, and Jenn leaned back. “Oh, dear god! Are you quite positive that you called the actress Melanie Renault? Has Hartwell played a trick on us?”
“I’m not sure. She didn’t sound like that girl in Heart of Glass. Then again, you’ve seen her since then. Hitting the old asshole Brentano over the head with a Louisville Slugger must’ve had some healing effect on her.”
“I might just try that on you, too,” Jenn mused.
It was 7 pm sharp when we drove up to the Hartwell villa in my freshly polished Hansa Cabriolet. It was probably the last time we would use it, and I was carefully locking the car, when a diminutive young woman emerged from the gate and greeted us.
“Hi and welcome. This looks like a real collectible. You wanna drive it into the garage?”
Okay, we were in Beverly Hills, but I never feel well when I have to leave the Coupe outside somewhere, unless it’s at a valet parking, so I thanked and accepted. Mel, the diminutive young woman, made a quick phone call and the garage door opened, allowing me to park my ancient ego booster safely.
Mel then let us enter through the back of the garage and we emerged in a well groomed backyard. There was a rather large mansion next to us, complete with a pool and huge patio, but Mel led us up a narrow garden path to a smaller, stylish house with a large glass front.
“My humble abode,” she explained. “It’s the original house on the lot, and I rent it from Uncle Josh.”
“It’s older, isn’t it?” Jenn asked.
“From 1953 and designed by Mies van der Rohe. It’s a listed building under CEQA. Come in!”
We entered and found ourselves in a sparsely furnished living room. It fitted the house. The dinner table towards the back of the room was a heavy glass plate on a frame of iron tubes, with matching chairs.
“Our guests have arrived,” Mel shouted in the direction of an adjacent kitchen, and two tall young people emerged. I recognized David Olsen, and the girl at his side was very obviously his sister, being almost as tall as I, with a very pretty face and a mischievous smile. She sighed dramatically.
“Thank god, he’s dressed.”
I wanted to groan, realising that I was outnumbered by the three females, but I rallied.
“Yeah, but no underwear.”
Jenn elbowed me, but the girl giggled. “Hi, I’m Danielle.”
“Aka Beanie,” her brother supplied. “Hi, I’m David.”
“Aka Asen,” Melanie added.
Jenn looked her question, and Melanie was happy to explain. “It’s Danish for jackass. I think it fits.”
“You young ladies probably know me from my earlier work, but this is Jennifer,” I gave back. Hell, I had battled with Jenn for over two years. Who woulda thunk that, but the girls both blushed. I had to grin now. They must have done some research.
David laughed. “You had it coming.”
Jenn was shaking her head. “Now you know with what I must put up every day.”
“Hey, I give you a three-day break once a month!”
“Jeez, they are really like cat and dog,” Danielle stated.
“It’s fun, and it keeps us both on our toes,” Jenn laughed. “Hi, everybody, and thanks for having us.”
“It’s our pleasure, really. Before we continue this silliness, why don’t we sit?” Melanie offered, pointing at two chairs.
“Okay, but let me unload those first,” I offered, handing her the flower bouquet to which I’d been holding on.
“Thank you, they’re lovely. Dani, can you get that vase?”
The tall girl reached up to a high shelf and nonchalantly retrieved a rather large vase which looked a lot like Chinese Quing dynasty. I knew I goggled at her careless handling.
“It’s just a movie prop from my grandmother. Her apartment in Paris is like a freaking movie museum, and I filched this vase from her.”
The flowers really looked nice in the big vase, right in the center of the table. I had sprung almost 150 bucks, and it showed.
It was not a fancy dinner. David Olsen was a Montana native, from a small town near Missoula, and his cooking reflected that. We had a tasty tomato soup, obviously made from scratch and with enough garlic in it to clear a Dracula movie set. The main course, homemade fries with sirloin burgers in freshly baked buns, was nothing but delicious. I never copped to the sushi/salad school of eating, and I enjoyed the meal. Even Jenn battled her burger bravely and with success and complimented David.
Melanie watched this with an amused smile. She ate only half of a burger which was still a lot for somebody that petite, but Danielle had no compunctions scarfing down her allotment. She was, I learned, a senior in a prep school and a hopeful in that school’s top tier basketball team.
The dessert was vanilla flå with strawberries, and nothing to sneeze at either. We were thus sated and peaceable when we entered into the discussion of Melanie’s guest starring. I let Jenn present our plot idea, and Melanie liked it, especially the part where David was to end up embarrassed. I told him that this was happening to me all the time, with Brenda-Lee always coming up with ideas to make my character look stupid, and he shrugged and accepted his fate like any other pussy-whipped man, i.e. me.
We then looked into scheduling. It turned out that Melanie would have spare time in late March during Spring Break. For David, being in med school, things were more difficult, but we identified two weekdays with the following weekend as extra time, where their schedules allowed both of them to be available. I already had the idea to make their joint appearance our season closer. Melanie Renault was by far our most prominent guest star, so we would not be able to top those two episodes. It would also give us a cliff hanger over the summer break, with Ricky Ryder’s reappearance in the fall unclear.
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