"Woods, Stuart - Dead Eyes" - читать интересную книгу автора (Woods Stuart)

"I've talked to Jason about this," Brent said, "and I'm going to bump up your billing. You'll be above the title, single card, right after Jason."

"That's wonderful, Brent," Chris said, and she meant it. She had learned from experience not to get too excited about promises in Hollywood, but this time she couldn't help herself; her heart was thumping with joy.

"The changes in the script have made your role a real co-starring one. Jason and I felt it was the least we could do." He gave her a hug and went off toward the studio commissary.

"Well," Chris said aloud to herself, "you could have given me co starring money." She had started back to her dressing room when she realized that no letters from Admirer had arrived today. She went off to her lunch date with a happy heart.

It was one of those brilliant L.A. days after a rain, when the smog had been swept away by a cold front and the sun lived up to its California promise.

She met her agent, Ron Morrow, and her business manager, Jack Berman, at the Bistro Garden in Beverly Hills, and they lunched alfresco.

"I had a call from Brent," Ron said.

"He told me the news; I think this is very good for you, Chris."

Ron was not yet thirty-five, but he was the hottest young agent at CAA, Creative Artists Agency, the most powerful in town.

"Do you think you could pry more money out of them, Ron?"

Ron shook his head.

"It would be a mistake to be said.

"If this picture does what I think it's "going to do, we'll more than make it up on the next You'll have your pick of scripts, you wait and "Ron is right," Jack said.

"Let's not crowd the studio on this one. They're happy, and we want to keep them that way." Jack was in his mid-fifties, a veteran of the Hollywood game and business manager to a dozen big stars.

"If you guys say so. What are we getting in the way of offers?"

"Nothing good enough," Ron said.

"But when this picture starts screening around town, they'll be flying in over the transom. Don't worry about it."

"I won't worry about a thing," Chris said, Smiling.

"How's the house coming?" Jack asked.

"Beautifully. It's mostly framed, so I can see the shape of things. You'll both have to come out and see it."

"I drive past it every night on the way home," Ron said.

"I can see the roof sticking up now."

Jack cleared his throat. "Chris, it's time you put the Bel Air house on the market."

"Not yet, Jack; we're another five months away from completion on the Malibu house if we stay on schedule----and I don't want an endless procession of gawkers traipsing through the house while I'm living there."

"Five months is not too soon, believe me."