The man who walked up the gangway onto the yacht tied up in Marina Del Rey, was not someone who would grab the attention of one of the 'beautiful' people at the party being held on the ship. And not the eye of the rising country-pop fusion star who was the guest of honor at the party.
It wasn't as if he was awful looking. Indeed, she found him handsome. A little under 6 feet tall, slim, well-built, but not one of the over-muscled would-be Arnolds from nearby Venice Beach.
He had a tussle of light brown, almost blond hair, not short but not too long either. His eyes were the one feature that might stand out at a woman, if she was close enough to see them. They were a hazel, but there was a mixture of colors in those eyes, and depending on the surroundings and his mood, they could go from a brown, to a green, to a gray that almost touched blue.
But it was the instant look of intelligence that resided into those eyes that stopped people's thought processes. They would freeze for a short pause before going on with their thoughts or conversation.
That day he was dressed for the warm SoCal beach weather, with a pair of tan cargo shorts, a light blue polo shirt, open at the neck, and a pair of leather sandals.
He stepped confidently aboard and took a quick look around, looking for a particular person.
As he began to step further onto the deck of the ship, he was approached by a couple of over-built, under-brained men, both of whom were well over 6 feet tall, who walked up until they were closer than the normal comfort range of most people. Clearly an intimidation tactic, it didn't seem to affect the smaller man.
"Excuse me mate," said the more articulate of the pair, "but whadoya want. This is a private party."
"I'm here to see Ms. Sidney Barron," naming the rising star, Diva and guest of honor.
The bodyguard's eyes flicked to a face on the upper deck that had been looking down at the man. There was a slight negative back-and-forth of the head, before she turned back to her entourage. He was a stranger to her.
"Sorry, mate. Sid doesn't want to see you. You'll have to leave," the big guy said with a bit of a smirk.
The smaller man showed no emotion other than to shrug his shoulders.
"Her loss."
Then he turned away and walked back down the gangway, back up the dock and up to the parking lot where he climbed into an SUV and drove away.
The two bodyguards were standing there, still congratulating themselves on how well they took care of their client, protecting her from unwanted interlopers, when Herb Eisenstein, the owner of the yacht, and one of the big names in the world of music agents, rushed up the gangplank. His bald head was swiveling around on his head like he was demon possessed.
"Where are Sid and Charlie?" he asked.
"Uh, ah, Mr. E, Sid is up on the second deck," a quick look and motion her way. "But I don't know this Charlie guy."
"Shit. I phoned him to tell him I'm late, but that he could just meet me here and introduce himself to Sid and I would arrive a little late. Thank god, I got here before him."
The two bodyguards started kind of shuffling their feet and were looking anywhere except Herb's face.
Herb didn't reach the level of his profession without being able to read body language.
"Okay guys. Out with it. What's going on?"
"Uh, Mr. Eisenstein, I think we may have kicked him off the boat. Sid didn't know him, so we told him he would have to leave."
"And?"
"He turned around and left."
"Did he say anything to you two morons?"
They weren't happy at being called morons, after all no one had given THEM a heads up about some stranger who would be dropping in, but they knew that Sid would want them to be honest with Mr. Eisenstein.
"He kinda shrugged his shoulders and said something like 'Her loss'"
"Shit'," Herb said again as he turned away from the muscle and hurried to the second deck.
Sid looked up when Herb came flying up the stairs to the upper deck where she had been sitting on one of the deck chairs chatting with other members of her girl band and some of the hangers on that they brought with them.
"Herb!" she exclaimed, "So what's on the schedule today?"
"Well, Sid, you were supposed to be meeting with Charlie Turner, the arranger, to discuss having him add a background orchestra with music, to your group for the album."
"Oh, that sounds great!" Sid replied, almost exploding with excitement.
Sid and her band, 'Precious Jewels' were a country/pop band that had been touring and gaining a reputation for having a different sound. But they were still, in some ways, a basic group with a lead guitar, a bass, a keyboard, drums and Sid, the lead vocalist, who also played guitar. She also wrote their songs.
Herb had gotten them a production contract to do an album, but the producer want to fill out their sound on the album and would probably add background musicians to their tour.
That was where Charlie Turner, AKA 'The Arranger' came into things. He was known for taking a piece of 'good' music and by adding instrumentation, tweaking the tempos, raising or lowering the keys a couple of steps, that is, doing his magic on the music, making it a brilliant piece of music. The kind that made it onto the top of the charts.
"It would be, except that you and your goons booted him off the boat!"
"Sorry, Mr. E. I didn't think he would show up early and alone. I thought he was coming with you. But, hey, it's no big deal. Call him up and tell him were sorry and to come back. It was just an innocent mistake."
Herb looked at his talented newbie, a somewhat condescending look.
"Sid, sorry kid, Charlie was on his way out of the country. He was going to stop by for an hour or so as a favor to me. He won't be coming back for I don't know how long. We'll have to wait until he gets back, and then hope that he will actually speak to you. Me? Me, he will forgive, I give him too much business. You? He don't know you, and like he said — it's your loss not his."
"Well, shit," Sid posited, "There have to be other guys in town who can arrange the music."
"Of course there are 'other guys'! This is Hollywoodland. There are guys who worked with John Williams, for Hans Zimmer, Danny Elfman, Randy Newman. Some of the older guys even worked with Lalo Schriffin and some of the old-timers!
"But none of them are as good, as current or as talented as Charlie Turner.
"Have you heard the music that is used in the introduction of that new series, "Twin Worlds"?
Sid brightened up, "Yeah, you told me to at least listen to the first two minutes of music. Then I could turn off the series. I didn't. I thought it was a kind of cool show.
"The music was really great — unusual, but I just had to listen to it all the way through. I think that I may have even downloaded it."
"Well, the music for the series was written and arranged by Charlie Turner," Herb continued.
"And even more important: the producer, you know the guy who is paying for this album to be cut, wants — no, insists that Charlie do the work. In simple terms — we got no choice, capice?"
"What are we supposed to do in the meantime?" Sid asked, her voice revealing her irritation.
"Don't worry, kid. I'll get your band local gigs around here until Charlie shows up again to keep you busy."
Sidney did her imitation of a growl at the delay but was happy that the band could make a few bucks and not just sit around spending money. Sidney had a work ethic, and she was understood the value of have some savings in the bank.
