emanated no aura of Hollywood’s legendary directors.
Judith found Chips Madigan’s friendly, boyish demeanor refreshing. Even endearing, she thought as he
turned toward the living room, tripped on the Persian
area rug, and sent his long, lanky frame sprawling
across the floor.
“Whoa!” Chips cried. “You’d never know I got my
start directing musicals!”
Though both Judith and Renie offered to help, he
politely brushed off their outstretched hands and
scrambled to an upright position on his own.
Judith noticed that none of the guests made the
slightest move to aid their fallen comrade. Indeed,
Chips Madigan’s unorthodox arrival was virtually ignored. Perhaps that was because Bruno Zepf was
standing in front of the fireplace, obviously over his
fright and looking like Napoleon about to rally his
generals.
Chips, however, seemed undaunted. With a cocky
air, he strolled into the living room and plopped down
on the window seat next to Angela La Belle, who had
also joined the company. At least three cell phones
were swiftly turned off. Judith was beginning to wonder if the devices were permanently attached to their
owners.
The director’s arrival was apparently a signal for
Bruno to shift gears. He took a cigar out of the pocket
of his denim shirt, rolled it around in his pudgy fingers,
and stuck it in his mouth, unlit.
“We’re assembled here on an historic occasion in the
annals of the motion-picture business.” The producer
paused to gaze around the long living room, from the
plate rails to the wainscoting. Several of his listeners’
expressions of distaste indicated that Hillside Manor
wasn’t worthy of so momentous a pronouncement.
“As you all know,” he continued after a sip of the
thirty-year-old Scotch he’d brought with him, “when I
first conceived
The scope was too big, the concept too ambitious, the
goal too lofty, and the movie itself far too expensive
given the audience we’re aiming for.” He paused again,
this time gazing at the cousins, who were standing
under the archway between the entry hall and the living room. “Excuse me, ladies. This is a private meeting. Do you mind?”
“Not very well,” Renie shot back before Judith
could interfere.
“I’m sorry,” Judith broke in, yanking on her cousin’s
arm. “We were just checking to make sure you had
everything you needed for the social hour.”
