The trip to Alabama was enlightening and broadened our understanding of Dessi’s journey, but I’m glad to be back in LA. I got off the plane and came straight to the production offices. The things we found in Alabama have changed everything. Dessi’s family always assumed she had two great loves: Cal Hampton and music.
Turns out there were three.
Tilda Hargrove was Dessi’s first love. Before she met Cal Hampton hostessing at the Savoy. Before he discovered Dessi could sing like an angel. Before she performed at Café Society, joining greats like Billie Holiday, Sarah Vaughan, Lena Horne and Hazel Scott. Before Cal and Dessi struck off for Europe to tour with a band and eventually married . . . before all that, Dessi loved Tilda Hargrove. And Tilda Hargrove loved her. In addition to the newspaper clippings, Dessi saved love letters they exchanged while she was touring Europe and Tilda remained in Harlem.
Not shocking. Many of the women from that era sang openly about their bisexuality. Ma Rainey, Bessie Smith. Hell, even Billie had at least one documented affair with another woman, Tallulah Bankhead. Unearthing that as part of Dessi’s story made sense and simply adds depth to what I know about her as a character as we tell her story. For a family member, though, especially one from the Bible Belt, who may or may not want that known about Dessi, it’s not as simple.
Surprisingly, Neevah was the one who broached the subject with Katherine.
One of Neevah’s greatest assets, and she has many, is how she makes you feel you’ve known her all your life. There’s this accessibility that comes across not only when she performs, but any time you’re around her. I saw it in how quickly she and Verity clicked. I observed how much Katherine trusted her after a few hours of conversation out on the front porch, just the two of them and a pitcher of lemonade. Discussing the things we found about Dessi with Katherine could have been awkward, but Neevah had already paved the way, lowering Katherine’s guard with her easy smile and open manner. When I first approached Katherine about optioning Dessi’s life story, I think she saw an opportunity. Financial, yes, but also a chance to celebrate her mother’s contributions; to bring her the recognition she deserves. When she looked at Neevah, she saw a friend. Someone whom, after only a few hours, she trusted. Seeing their natural rapport, I tasked Neevah with discussing our discoveries and asking Katherine if we could include them in the movie.
We can.
And I know I have Neevah to thank for that, at least in part.
That moment in the bedroom was a close call. Not that I came close to doing anything about the attraction, which is growing and—I suspect—mutual. But I almost showed my hand.
Shit.
Did I hide it?
It’s her heightened sensitivity that fuels her brilliance as an actor. She’s emotionally astute, which puts her in touch with not only how she feels, but how others are feeling, too.
I’m not a conceited guy. Many of the women who approach me see a role, an opportunity, a chance to get ahead. It’s part of the game, but Neevah . . . I haven’t known her long, but already I can tell that with her, there are no games. There’s a sincerity to her—a humility and realness that the more I see, the more I admire, especially in a business like ours powered by ego and artifice.
Surely Neevah knows anything more than a professional relationship between us would spell trouble, so she’s fighting this pull. So am I, but if Verity picked up on it, Evan will. And the last thing I want is a daily lecture from that dude about keeping my dick in my pants.
“Welcome home,” Evan says, walking into my office sipping on his smoothie. “How’d it go?”
I look away from the colored cards of the storyboard on my wall to Evan.
“Great trip.” I tip back in my chair and prop my feet on the desk. “We have a whole other story we didn’t know existed.”
Over the next twenty minutes, I share all the things we learned about Dessi and Tilda. Evan sits across from me, his eyes lighting up as he realizes this story is even better than we first thought.
“And the daughter is okay with us putting all this in?” he asks.
“She is. Neevah talked to her to make sure.” I shuffle a deck of multi-colored index cards. “They really hit it off.”
“Sounds like Neevah will be an asset in more ways than one.” Evan casts a cautious look at me from under a slight frown. “Which brings me to something we need to discuss.”
“Shoot.” I keep my tone casual, but I know that look. I’ve met that frown before. This is some shit I don’t want to hear.
“Lawson Stone called,” Evan says.
“And?”
“And Galaxy is not happy about you casting Neevah.”
I shrug, belying the tension in my shoulders. “Not surprising. We knew they would take some convincing.”
“Lots of convincing.” Evan looks me square in the eye. “And some compromise.”
I lower my feet and swivel in the office chair. “My least favorite word. Well, one of them. What kind of compromise?”
“If you get to keep Neevah as Dessi—”
“And I do,” I say, my voice unyielding.
“Then they get to choose the guy. They have someone in mind for Cal Hampton.”
“Who?”
“Trey Scott.”
“He’s a pop singer,” I say, not bothering to disguise my distaste. “He’s on Nick at Nite.”
“Those are reruns and that was years ago. He’s all grown up now. Plenty of big-name stars begin as child actors. Hillary Duff, Miley Cyrus, Zac Ephron, Selena Gomez. The list goes on and on. The cache of this film will bring in the over-thirty crowd. Trey will draw a younger audience, even though he’s now over thirty himself. He still has that fandom.”
These are not the things I wanted to consider when casting my movie, but I do recognize Galaxy is taking an enormous risk with Neevah.
“You got tape of him?” I ask curtly. “He still has to audition like everybody else, and if he’s trash—”
“I do have tape, and he’s actually really good. Don’t let the Disney fool you.”
“Send it to me.” I turn back to my storyboard. “We done?”
“Well, I know you wanted to shoot in New York.”
I whip around to face him again. “Of course, I do. Most of the story takes place there.”
“Yeah, but Trey will be doing double duty in the fall when we need to shoot.”
“Double duty?”
“He’ll shoot with us during the day, and we can be strategic about his scenes for night shoots,” Evan says, lowering his eyes and toying with his keys, a sure sign he doesn’t want to tell me the rest. “He’ll be hosting a live game show here in LA three nights a week.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? They think I’m shooting my movie in LA instead of New York because he’s hosting Family Feud?”
“It’s not. It’s—”
“I don’t give a damn what it is.” I stand and pace from my desk to the windows overlooking the city. “You outta your damn mind, Evan. His game show won’t dictate our locations.”
“Not all of them and not all the time. We’re still forming the location list, but I think it could work.”
“How? How could it work?”
“We could use Galaxy’s back lots. Most of the scenes will be interior and we can grab pick-up shots in New York. Also keep in mind a lot of those buildings from Harlem in the thirties are either demolished or look really different. We’d have to create our own with models and other tricks anyway. We have to recreate the Savoy Ballroom, a massive undertaking. A back lot is ideal for that. That’s not to say no shots in New York. Just from October to January, we need to—”
“That’s ninety percent of the shooting schedule. Shit, Evan. We don’t need their money that bad. Not to ruin my movie.”
“First of all, we do need the money. This is a big project with a huge price tag. Second of all, I actually think back lots could give us that old Hollywood vibe. Might be perfect for this period piece.”
That does give me pause. I prop on the edge of the desk and fold my arms over my chest, daring Evan to convince me. “Go on.”
“You said you want to shoot on film, right?”
“Some, yeah, sixteen millimeter for certain sequences. I know it’s expensive, but I’m not compromising on that, Evan. It’s bad enough they want to cast a Mouseketeer.”
“No, they think film is genius, but it gives even more credence to using old Hollywood back lots. Layering that nostalgia in on every level.”
I hate that it’s starting to make sense.
Evan’s slow smile tells me he knows it. “Can I tell them Trey’s in?”
“Not until I see his tape. He’s not getting in without an audition.”
“Well Neevah Saint practically did.”
“Neevah did a damn Broadway show and killed her audition with Mallory.”
“I’ll send you his tape. Mal’s working with his agent. The team’s coming together. We got Verity on the script. Monk’s in for the score. Neevah’s in for Dessi. Costumes will be a huge part of this. We need to start looking at costume designers.”
“Yeah?” I turn back to the storyboard, only half listening now. “Alright, whatever.”
“Lawson Stone has a suggestion.”
Something in Evan’s voice makes me study him over my shoulder suspiciously. “Don’t tell me. His second cousin is a seamstress.”
“Even better.” Evan fights a smirk unsuccessfully. “His wife.”
Now that I wasn’t expecting. “Linh? His wife we met? Whose dad is the sculptor?”
“Yeah, pretty sure he’s only got the one wife.”
“And if he’s willing to get rid of her, you’d be in line.”
“Me? The last thing I want is somebody’s wife.”
“But you think she’s pretty,” I tease.
“I think she’s gorgeous and sexy as hell, but she’s married to our studio exec. There’s plenty of pussy in the sea.”
“Nice with the mixed metaphor. You seen her stuff yet?”
“Yeah, man. She’s terrific, actually. She’s worked on several period pieces but under someone else’s banner. Now starting to branch out on her own.”
“Send it over. I’ll take a look.”
“You mentioned needing to see the chemistry between the two actors,” Evan says. “What do you think about flying Neevah out to do a screen test with Trey?”
This is a sound suggestion, but the thought of seeing Neevah again gives me pause and also, unfortunately, a dangerous thrill of anticipation.
Be smart.
Be cautious.
“Canon?” Evan asks, one brow lifted. “Think we should bring Neevah in for Trey’s screen test?”
“Sorry, dude. My mind is all over the place today. We can ask her, sure.”
“Okay, well since you’ve been dealing with her and she and I haven’t actually met yet, you want to do the honors?”
“Yeah. I will.”
“Cool.” Evan heads for the door. “I’ll coordinate with Trey’s agent.”
Once he’s gone, I consider the phone on my desk. I know I need to make this call, but I’m bracing myself for that husky-sweet voice of hers, and how the sound of it hits me like a shot of whiskey. And I need a clear head.
“You don’t have time for this shit,” I mutter, grabbing the phone and dialing. “It’s just a call.”
She picks up on the second ring.
“Canon?” she asks, sounding a little breathless.
“Hey, yeah. How are you?”
“Good. Great actually.” There’s a slight hesitation on the other end. “Is something wrong? Or did you need something for the movie?”
“Not wrong at all. We—my production partner, Evan—and I wondered if you’re available to fly out for a few days.”
“Oh, wow. To LA? Of course. I can make time. What’s going on?”
“We’re casting Cal, and it would help to see your chemistry with one of the actors we’re considering.”
“Do you know when? I just need to get time off from the show.”
“Right. We’re coordinating with him and his agent now, but we’ll work around you, I’m sure, since we all live here in the city. My assistant, Graham, will reach out to you and make the arrangements.”
“Oh, Graham, so will he—”
“She,” I correct with a smile because everyone assumes that. “I’ll make sure she has your number so we can go from there.”
“Cool.”
I should hang up now, but do I?
“So how have you been?” I ask . . . stupidly.
“Um, great. And you? Not working too hard, I hope.”
“I always work hard, but I’m trying to take it easier before we go into production.”
“Katherine let me take some of Dessi’s diaries and letters. She didn’t even know half that stuff was back there. I thought it might be useful as I prepare. Verity took some, too.”
“Oh, I didn’t even realize that.”
“I’m sorry. If we weren’t supposed to—”
“It’s fine. I grabbed some stuff, too. Katherine’s been really generous.” I shuffle a stack of the multi-colored cards I keep for storyboarding. “Thanks again for talking to her about including some of the new things we discovered.”
“It was nothing. She’s sweet.”
“You’re good with people.”
“Not all people,” she says, something like irony inflected in her voice. “Sometimes it’s easier to be good with people you don’t know than the ones you do. Than the ones who know you.”
My hands still, and I’m not sure how to respond to that. Everyone tastes my impatience at some point, especially when I’m working. Neevah will probably find that out for herself.
“Well, you were good with Katherine,” I say. “And it’ll help us in the long run.”
“Thanks.”
“So you’re still with Splendor. How’s that going?”
Why am I extending this conversation?
“Yeah,” she replies. “Same. Still understudy, but I have gotten onstage a few other times. The lead had a stomach bug—not that I wanted her to be sick or anything. I just meant—”
“Of course not. So you’re staying busy.”
“I’ve been gigging a little more, too, when I can. Like singing some here in the city.”
“You have a beautiful voice.” Unnecessary compliment.
“So do you,” she says.
“Me?” I breathe out a surprised chuckle. “I can’t hold a note in a bucket.”
“Oh.” Her laugh dips low and has me gripping the phone tighter. “I meant . . . talking, I guess. I like your voice when you . . . talk.”
It’s quiet on the line for a few seconds while I play that back, irritated with myself for wanting to ask her what else she likes about me because that doesn’t matter. It can’t. Even separated by thousands of miles, tension coils between us—a rubber band that if pulled too hard, will pop. I’m honest enough with myself to acknowledge it, but doing anything about it? No damn way. Hell, I should have let Evan or Graham handle this, though that would have drawn their curiosity.
“Uh, thanks,” I say abruptly. “So look for the details and travel arrangements from Graham in the next day or so. Verity has reworked the script. We’ll send over what you guys will read for the screen test, though it won’t be much.”
“I can’t wait to read Verity’s changes.”
“It’ll keep evolving, I’m sure, but it’s getting there. We want to get a little with you and Trey to see how you vibe. Graham will send the scene over.” This has got to be the most pleasant, stilted conversation I’ve ever had, but I need to end it. “I gotta go.”
“Oh, sure. Of course. I’ll be on the lookout for the script. I guess I’ll see you soon.”
“Yeah. See you soon. Take care, Neevah.”
And then I do what I should have done five minutes ago.
I let her go.
