In Development Read online

CHAPTER FOUR

  Happy Anniversary

  The reception counter was made from rich Brazilian mahogany and topped with the same black granite used for Stan's desk. Marle's lavish cake, from Hansen's of Beverly Hills, sat on top of the counter. Stan enjoyed watching her bend over just slightly to blow out the giant candle, which had been shaped into the number one to signify one year of diligent and loyal service to the company.

  As the air from her soft puckered lips extinguished the flame; her fellow employees began to clap.

  "I can't believe it's been a year already," Stan said, flashing his famous smile. "I remember your interview like it was yesterday."

  Marle glared at him. "So do I."

  The ad was enticing. "Successful Entertainment Industry Executive seeks motivated assistant. Pays top dollar. Will train."

  Marle walked into Stan's office for the first time wearing a sundress that came to mid-thigh. The cotton fabric, printed with a light green and pink floral design, made her look particularly innocent.

  Just the way I like them.

  Stan pointed Marle to one of the gray, mohair barrel chairs in front of his desk. "Please have a seat." His voice was satin smooth. He admired her legs as she sat and tried to pay attention to what she was saying. It wasn't easy for him to do.

  "Thank you, Mr. Peters, for the opportunity to interview with your company." She looked around the office-obviously impressed to the point of being overwhelmed. "This is really nice."

  Just the words Stan liked to hear. "Thanks. I decorated it myself."

  Her eyes widened. "I can't even imagine. It must be amazing to be you."

  "Actually, it is rather amazing." Stan paused and tried to give off an air of humility by lowering his voice. "You know, it wasn't always like this. I started in this business with nothing. I used to go to bed hungry at night." He rotated his extra-large black leather Pace Collection executive chair slightly to the right. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the LA Times' article-framed and hanging on the wall behind him that read, "Heir to the Peters' fortune hits it big in Hollywood at just 17-years-old!"

  "Really?" Marle asked, buying the story completely. They all did.

  "Yeah, really. But you know what made me successful? Can you guess what I have going for me that most people don't?"

  Marle shook her head. "No. But I'd like to know because I'm in a really tough situation."

  "I'm sorry to hear that," Stan said, lying. He almost couldn't keep himself from smiling he was so overjoyed to hear he had struck gold?A young girl in trouble.

  "My husband and I separated a year ago and he doesn't pay the bills. I'm basically a single mother."

  Stan feigned an expression of pure disgust. "Wow, that really sucks."

  "I love my daughter, Taylor, more than anything else in the world." Tears began to well up in her eyes. "I'd do anything to give her a better life than I've had."

  Stan decided that there was no point in dragging it out and decided to strike. "You guessed my secret."

  "What is it, I don't understand?" Marle asked, somewhat confused.

  "I was willing to do anything to succeed. That's the difference. Will, resolve, whatever you want to call it." Stan curled his lips towards his teeth just slightly and nodded- they were partners now. "That's why I'm successful."

  "Mr. Peters, I can type seventy words a minute, file, do bookkeeping."

  "Well, that's fantastic. How much are you expecting to make from this impressive skill set," asked Stan with just a hint of condescension.

  "I was hoping maybe for forty thousand dollars a year. But I understand if I have to start at a more entry-level salary and work my way up. I'll work a hundred hours a week if you want me to."

  "You know what Marle? I like your attitude. I'll give you a shot and I'll start you off at eighty-five thousand dollars a year plus full medical for you and the kid."

  "I don't know what to say?" She fidgeted in her chair really not understanding the slope she was sliding down.

  Stan leaned forward. "Say that you'll be at my house tonight for drinks."

  "Your house for drinks?" she asked like a deer caught in the headlights of a Mack Truck.

  "Yes, I'd like to have a few drinks with you before we have sex since we're going to be working together and all." Stan leaned back in his chair satisfied that the bomb he had just dropped landed right on target.

  "So, you're one of those type of producers," Marle said with righteous indignation. "I should have known. I can't believe you think I look like that kind of girl."

  Stan took out his gold Mont Blanc and wrote his address on a sheet of Peters Entertainment letterhead and slid it across the desk towards her.

  "Here's my address. I'm hoping by tomorrow you look like the kind of girl that has a job that pays eighty-five thousand dollars a year."

  "You would actually take advantage of a single mother?" Marle asked, still in shock.

  "Yes, I would," Stan answered resolutely.

  Her face tightened and turned red. "Could you be any scummier?""Of course, but let's start with this," Stan said as he stood up. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a wad of hundred dollar bills. He peeled off three and tossed them down onto the piece of letterhead he had written his address on. "Anyway, here's three hundred dollars-that ought to cover the baby-sitter. I'll see you tonight."

  Marle glared at him for several seconds then picked up the letterhead, the three hundred dollars, and stormed out.

  Stan continued his anniversary speech. "I'm so proud of you. I knew you had what it took to be one of us."

  Marle's tone was sardonic. "Because you're the greatest guy ever."

  "I know," Stan agreed, then grabbed her in his arms and gave her a hug and a kiss on the lips. As the crowd of employees began to cheer, he took the opportunity to slip her some tongue. There were more cheers and at that point even Marle didn't really mind; she had unfortunately fallen in love with her scummy boss.

  As Stan made out with Marle in front of her co-workers, Iren took notice of the young girl standing next to him. The tag on the lapel of her brown BCBG jacket read "Intern".

  "Isn't it great that they're able to work so closely together," Iren said to her with a smile.

  "Mr. Peters is an amazing example for all of us to follow," she answered in pure awe.

  Iren glanced down. "Has anyone ever told you that you have nice feet?"

  "Wow, that's so kind of you to say. You see, I didn't have a father figure growing up, so I'm really insecure about my looks."

  "What did you say your name was?"

  "Tiffany," she said, extending her hand.

  Stan let go of a dazed and confused Marle. "All right everyone, enough of this sentimental bullshit. Get back to work." He pointed at his well-dressed African American assistant Danny. "Except for you, we need to talk."