Chapter 8

The alarm went off way to damn early, and Abby was there to shut it off, a cup of coffee in hand.

“Rise and shine!” she said, entirely too perky for this early.

I just growled at her, but when she waved the cup of hot coffee under my nose, I made appropriate groveling type comments and she relented, letting me have my fix.

I sat on the edge of the bed, sipping my coffee and just the corner of the sheet covering my groin as Abby picked out a suit for me and bagged another for the wardrobe change.

She waited patiently for me to finish, then pointed at the bathroom. “You have twenty minutes to shower. Do you need a hand shaving?”

“No, I got that part down okay, thanks. Now go away so I don’t feel so self-conscious.” I said, grinning at her.

“Been there, seen it all already, David.” she replied with an exaggerated wink, but she left the room to get her own morning tasks completed while I showered.

When I came out, wearing clean boxers and a t-shirt, Abby was ready with my slacks.

When I was dressed and looking good, except for my jacket, she told me breakfast would be here in a couple of minutes, but there was coffee out there to hold me over.

While we ate breakfast, I told her about hearing Cassadee Pope’s song last night and calling Cassidy. Abby was excited, being a country fan and a fan of Cassadee, and wanted to hear all about my meeting her in New York.

“I have a little confession to make. I admire the hell out of you and really wanted to be your personal assistant, but it was in part because of the life you are leading. I got to see you on television with all those stars in New York, and I know it will be even better here in Los Angeles, and I wanted to be a part of that. Maybe some handsome, rich movie star will see me slaving away for you and take me away from all of this!” she joked, making faces at me from across the table.

“Just when I get you trained right? That is blasphemy!” I said, full of mock indignation. She wasn’t buying it though.

The Good Day LA show was basically a repeat of my other appearances and went smoothly. We transitioned from one sound stage to another and, after a quick wardrobe change, sat down with the Entertainment Tonight folks to talk about the upcoming movie.

It was neat to see these shows from behind the scenes and everyone was nice, treating us like celebrities. We were done by ten and, as we headed back to the hotel, Cassidy filled me in on what she had learned.

Cassadee Pope was signed with a label called Republic Nashville and she was able to get a hold of a rep who faxed all the info needed over to the studio. She had also left a message for the singer that I wanted to talk, but she wasn’t sure if, or when, she would actually get it or if she would call.

I thanked her for her efforts, but she wasn’t quite done. She pulled out her phone and had Joe, who was driving, link it to the Bluetooth stereo. She scrolled through the entries and hit play, the new song, “I will heal” started playing over the radio.

Abby was ecstatic, listening closely, and Cassidy was smiling too. “Not my kind of music,” she confided in me, “but the girl can belt a tune, that’s for sure. She can write too, that damn thing had me sniffling in front of my friends.”

I just laughed and nodded, point towards my chest. “Me too.”

Cassidy was off again, saying she would see us at the studio tomorrow morning, but would call if she had any word from the record label.

Abby, when asked, said she would love to see the beach so we took a drive to Santa Monica so we could check out the famous pier. Lunch would be whatever we could find and I even agreed to use the damned wheelchair so neither she nor the protection detail would be worried.

Santa Monica beach was what out of state visitors expected to see in Southern California. Miles of nice beach, blue waters, beautiful people and even the iconic lifeguard stands that brought back memories of Baywatch.

The boardwalk was packed full of little shops selling everything a tourist could want and the pier itself was a carnival, with all the attractions you would expect to see. From the Ferris wheel to the cotton candy, palm readers and games of chance, there was laughter and smiles as far as the eye could see.

Abby was having a blast and, I must admit, I was having fun too. The chair sucked, but most people seemed to give me a wide berth without even noticing. We had been there about forty minutes and were stopped by the rail overlooking the beach, eating corndogs, when something caught my eye.

There was a guy with a camera about thirty feet away, and I had seen him earlier as well, when we had rolled along the boardwalk for a bit. Charles, Drew and Joe were with us today and I mentioned him to Drew, who happened to be the guy closest to me.

“Yeah, we have been watching him. Joe had a little talk with him earlier and said that we wouldn’t hassle him if he kept his distance. We can’t actually prevent him from taking pictures since this is a public venue and, let’s face it boss, you are a celebrity now.” he told me, keeping his eye on the crowd that swirled around us.

“You know, telling me about stuff like this would be a good idea. I mean, if I know we are being watched, I won’t pick my nose or scratch my nuts in public.” I said sarcastically.

Drew looked down at me, his expression a little sheepish. “You are right, and I will make sure everyone knows. We usually alert Cassidy, but we weren’t sure if we should tell Abby or not, since we haven’t really gotten to know her very well.”

I just nodded, and kept watching the folks below.

We stayed there for a couple of hours, even letting Abby take a ride on the Ferris wheel and picking up a couple more photographers in the process. When we rolled back down the pier, one of the paparazzi approached us, but did it in a respectful manner, no shouting or making a scene.

“Mr. Weaver, Tim with TMZ. Who’s the woman you are with? What are your thoughts on Cassadee Pope’s song? Are you and the Avengers going to be hanging out while you are in LA?” he fired off a couple of quick questions, his video camera rolling. The other paparazzi, seeing us stop, gathered around.

“This is Abby Carson, my personal assistant and good friend. No, we aren’t dating.” I said, and got a chuckle from the cameraman. “I love Cassadee’s song and I am flattered beyond words that she wrote it after meeting me just once. She is a very talented lady.”

“What about you hanging out with Jeremy Renner and Mark Ruffalo. You had dinner with most of the cast in New York.”

“I met them both at interviews we were doing and they invited me out for dinner. They are both amazing actors and I was honored to be invited to dinner. I can’t claim that we are bosom buddies, but I admire them both.”

“One last question, Mr. Weaver, I saw you walk into dinner in New York, has your health worsened?”

“No, but the extensive damage to my legs in the bombing means that I can’t walk very far, so outings like this are much easier in a chair.”

“Thanks for your time, Mr. Weaver! I am sure we will run into one another again.” Tim said, waving as he headed out.

We spent the evening in the hotel, eating at the restaurant and taking it easy. I was done with the tourism bit, but told Abby that I would have the team drive her wherever she wanted to go. She could go out clubbing, or sight-seeing if she wanted.

She just smiled and shook her head. “This is a working trip, David. I am already having a fantastic time, so I will just stick around and do my job.”

The restaurant was actually very nice, as was the meal. This must have been a place to ‘be seen’ because we saw a couple of minor celebs like Jaleel White and Ben Savage. One I didn’t know, but who Abby pointed out excitedly was Audrina Patridge. Abby told me she was on a show called “The Hills” at one time, but I was more impressed by the dress she was wearing and, frankly how she was wearing it. She was a looker.

Starlight was part of the MGM group and their studio lot actually backed on to MGM’s and shared resources and sets with the parent firm. Their front gates were guarded and we had to stop and show identification to be allowed on the lot.

We were directed to an office building where a young man met us and told me that the board was ready and waiting in a conference room upstairs.

Inside the lobby, the walls were adorned with movie posters of past films the company had produced, and even a life-size cardboard cutout of Clint Eastwood from his last movie! I wondered if they would laugh if I took a selfie with it?

Putting temptation behind me, I followed the young man, who never introduced himself, to the elevators and to the top floor.

Abby was carrying a leather satchel for me that contained a hard-copy of the finished script along with a dozen thumb drives with electronic copies to hand out to the studio execs. I had been planning on carrying the satchel myself, but she correctly pointed out that I would have a hard time managing it and shaking hands as well.

When the elevator doors opened, there was a line of men, and a few women, all dressed in suits and waiting with smiles on their faces. The first man, closest to the door, stepped forward with his hand out as soon as we all cleared the elevator.

“Ari Wiesmann, Mr. Weaver, it is a pleasure to meet you!” he said, smiling and pumping my hand. He turned me toward the next person, doing the introductions and keeping me moving down the line. I didn’t catch most of the names, but I knew that Abby would be taking notes for me, something she had shown a knack for when she was running the office, and I could get them from her when needed.

Ari Weismann was the head of the studio and the rest of the people were on his team. They were his heads, of production, advertising, media relations, property, talent, along with several others I didn’t catch.

The big boardroom was impressive, the huge table with twenty-four chairs taking up only about half the space. There were floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the movie lot and I wondered, for a moment, if that had been a miscalculation. There is not much to see, other than warehouse-style buildings, the magic was all done inside on sets or on location!

Once we were all seated, Ari took the floor.

“Mr. Weaver, can we call you David?” At my nod, he smiled and continued, “We were all ecstatic when you agree to sign with us and we have been getting glowing reports from the writing team and from the press agent we sent down.”

Speaking of Cassidy, she hadn’t met us at the hotel and I had expected her to be here. When I looked around, I saw her sitting at a table towards the front of the room, her laptop open. She waved and winked at me.

“Mr. Weismann,” I started to say.

“Ari, please!” he interrupted.

“Ari, I was unsure about this, to be honest. I am not very comfortable in the limelight, but my friends and family convinced me that this could be a good thing, that I could use this to do good things for others. I am sure you know already, but I am setting up a foundation to offer scholarships to the children of men and women killed in the bombing, and funding it from my share of the profits.”

“We weren’t aware of that, but somehow I am not surprised you would take that route, David. The more we hear about you, the more impressed we are.” he said, then bent over and whispered something in the ear of the man on his left.

“So, what news do you bring us, David? How goes the script writing?”

I smiled and Abby handed me the satchel which I laid on the conference table. From the satchel, I pulled a handsomely bound hard-copy of the script. It was, in fact, number two and had that number embossed on the cover. The original copy was at home, in a safe in my office.

“It is finished. I understand that there will be rewrites, revisions, changes because of technical issues, changes by the director to fit his or her vision, but the initial script is done a month early.” I told him, holding up the volume. “In addition, I brought electronic copies for you and your team.” I added, holding up a thumb drive.

There was a buzz of conversation around the table and a lot of smiles. Abby picked up the hard copy and filled her pocket with the thumb drives. She walked down the table and handed the hard copy to Ari, then walked around and handed over a thumb drive to each of the department heads.

“Well, this is very exciting news, David! Frankly, since this is your first time writing a script, we budgeted for extra time. We thought you would run late! This shouldn’t have surprised me, considering what we have been hearing about you, but it does and I am a very happy man!”

He was holding the script, his hand absent-mindedly stroking the leather cover.

“You know, I budgeted a half hour of this meeting to impress upon you how critical deadlines can be in this business.” he said, shaking his head, then laughed.

“Well, we can dispense with that! Cassidy tells me that you seem to stumble into piles of gold, David. I have to tell you that we were amazed at the coup you pulled off in New York! The Avengers will be the box office hit of the season and you got yourself invited to a private party with the cast, and into the news too!”

“Ari, it was nothing so calculating, I assure you. I met Jeremy Renner at an interview and we hit it off. He and Mark Ruffalo invited me to dinner but I had no idea it was a cast party for their movie.” I said, holding up my hand as if to say, ‘What are you going to do?‘

“And now this song? The record label balked for a bit, but I got news just this morning that they were going to license the song for the cost of a recording session, since the song has only been sung in concert so far. The singer insisted that it be available if you wanted it. Is she just another person you happened to meet?”

He was half joking, but I could see he was curious. I told them about meeting her in the Green Room for the Kelly Ripa show, and how she had come up to me after the show to talk for a minute.

“Well, we are delighted and impressed with how fast this is getting off the ground. Now, Cassidy tells me you don’t really watch TV, so she put together a little clip of the press you have been getting and we thought it would be informative to see it. I had her wait and show us at the meeting so we could watch it together.

The lights lowered in the room and a screen dropped on the far wall. Everyone at the table swiveled their chairs around to watch and I could see Cassidy directing the action from her laptop.

She had gathered together a dozen media clips from paparazzi, from the shows where I had appeared and she ended it with a clip from the show, TMZ.

The shot began with the show’s host, Harvey Levin sitting in what looked like it was supposed to be a newspaper bullpen.

“Matt, who is this guy David Weaver and why should we care?” he asked, and the screen changed to a collage of pictures of me, photos taken on the day of the bombing, my being rescued and a shot from the Santa Monica Pier.

“He’s the sole survivor of the Chicago terrorist attack. He was horribly wounded but he has made an incredible recovery. He got stabbed in the neck in a restaurant later, and killed his attacker by pulling the knife out of his own neck and sticking into the eye of his attacker.”

The camera cut to Harvey whose eyes were wide open and looking shocked.

“He has signed with Starlight to write the script for a movie about the bombing. He’s been seen hanging out with Jeremy Renner, Mark Ruffalo, and eating dinner with Samuel L. Jackson. He’s been seen with some real beauties too, and was out at the Santa Monica pier today.

The show switched to the video that had been shot yesterday and they showed the clip before moving onto some starlet who was photographed naked on the yacht of a Russian billionaire.

When the lights came back up, everyone was clapping and I was red-faced.

The meeting continued until lunchtime, covering the proposed schedule, negotiations with a couple of big-name directors, and with a slide show of possible actors for the roles we had defined. They would wait to hold casting until they had a chance to read the script though.

As the meeting broke up, Ari waved for me to stay seated and came down the table, followed by the man who had been seated to his right and Cassidy. They all sat down again and Ari turned to me.

“David, first things first, Martin here is my right-hand man. He’s the guy like Caesar had whispering in his ear, “You are still just a man”. He had an idea and I really like it, not just because it is the right thing to do, but as a business man. I can use this to promote the movie and do good at the same time. We are going to match your contributions to this new foundation and, if we break $100m at the box office, we will donate a percentage of the profits to the foundation as well. Have your legal team talk to mine and set it up.”

I was astounded. “That ... that’s amazing, Ari. Thank you so much! It is so far above and beyond what I imagined and you can bet that people will sit up and notice.” I said, beaming at the man.

He grinned and shrugged. “You are doing the right thing, David. How could we do any less? Anyway, enough of that. I had planned the afternoon to give you a tour of the facilities, see the sets and the special effects guys, let you see some of the promos we are working on. The problem is that I saw you walking in here, and that TMZ piece...” he trailed off.

I nodded, understanding his concern. “My chair is in the vehicle downstairs. My guys don’t let me go anywhere without it, and I really want to check out a big Hollywood studio!”

“Excellent! I thought we would have lunch in the canteen. We are filming on two different sound stages today, so you can see how the magic happens.” he said with a smile.

I had a freaking blast on the tour. The special effects guys were astounding. They had taken stills and video of the building from the last couple of years and built a virtual copy that they could manipulate. The used video taken after the attack and were able to show the building collapsing and rebuilding itself, from anywhere inside or outside the building.

We toured the sound stages that looked like a real city street, and another that was used for simulating storms and strong winds. My favorite part though, had to be the canteen.

There were guys wandering through and eating lunch dressed as cowboys and indians! There were also a team of guys dressed up as SWAT team members with body armor and everything.

The food was basic, burgers and salads and the like, but sitting there chatting and seeing someone like Tom Hanks just passing through with a group of execs on his tail? Awesome! The topper on the cake for me was seeing someone I had held a torch for since the first time I saw her on the screen.

Sandra Bullock was there, sitting on the other side of the canteen, and chatting with three other women. I had assumed that the big stars would eat in their trailers or something, and seeing Tom Hanks walk by the canteen would be the closest I would get.

I guess I gave myself away though, since Ari saw where I was looking.

“You want to meet her? She’s a real sweetheart.”

“No, I don’t think so.” I said, feeling self-conscious. “I was just surprised to see a big star eating here with the rest of us.” I turned my attention back to the conversation at the table but kept sneaking looks her way.

We finished up before five and I thanked Ari for taking the time to personally show me around, promising him that I would be at his party tonight.

The party was supposed to start at nine that night, but Ari had told me not to bother showing up before eleven unless I wanted to be bored. Something about Hollywood Time.

The house was one of those you see in the movies, a palatial mansion in the hills overlooking Los Angeles with a spectacular view of the city. It was lit up like the fourth of July and Christmas all rolled into one. The property was walled and the entrance was a set of huge wrought-iron gates that were manned by two men in red vests, like valets.

We were let inside after giving my name and Charles handed me a wristwatch. “I meant to give this to you at the hotel, but the damn thing was only at half charge.” he broke off to shoot a dirty look at one of the other guys. “I plugged it in to the car and it is good to go now. If you have any issues, need your chair, there is a fight ... anything at all, you just press down on the crystal for more than one second. It sends us a signal and we will be there.”

The watch looked like it had been taken from the cockpit of a fighter jet. Large, square with beveled corners and the face resembled that thing that tells you if you are flying level. “It’s a Bell & Ross knock-off out of China, but gutted to make it run on a battery and house the transmitter.” Drew told me, as if I had any clue what that meant. I just shrugged and let them strap it to my wrist.

We were greeted inside by an absolute knock-out blonde with the biggest tits I had ever seen. Her eyes were a bit glazed and her pupils dilated, but she smiled and waved us into the house. The security team were greeted by a guy who screamed ‘muscle’ and split off into a side room with the other drivers and security.

Abby and I wandered into the house, gawking like tourists at the acres of marble, crystal chandeliers and flower arrangements that would have put a White House state dinner to shame. Another beauty, this one a brunette but equally as chesty, told us that the party was on the back lawn by the pool, and that the bar was out the door to the left.

We headed in the right direction, the music leading us to what had to have been more than two hundred people milling around, drinking and talking.

Ari appeared, clapping me on the shoulder and dragging me off to meet people. He installed me at a small table, assigned a waiter to watch over me and brought people to meet me for the next hour. Poor Abby was standing there, her eyes wide and watching the people walk past.