I had a ton of shit to do before Mac and the crew got in town. First off was getting Robbie's paperwork put to bed. I grabbed a cup of coffee and went through the changes Sylvia had made. I gritted my teeth at some of the stupid lawyerly things, but the most important one, to Robbie, was the residuals and that one I didn't have a problem with. By midafternoon I'd printed out a new version for her and a copy for Laura to sign. Who the fuck knew if she was going to run it by
her
lawyers, but I was counting on her just going with whatever Robbie said.
Mac and I had been messaging back and forth all week, venue being the biggest thing on his mind. I had assured him we could find a place and had already gotten in touch with several possible locations. After four days, though, I hadn't secured one, so
I
was getting nervous. If the theme was going to be Cum Slut Competition then naturally, we'd need a gym, but weekends were prime time, and I hadn't given anyone enough notice. And then inspiration hit like falling deadweight.
"Monty?" My neighbor. A big muckitymuck in his own company. He had the whack-job house up the street and we'd spent a little time together at various occasions. He was definitely kinked, based on a couple of parties I'd been invited to, but I wasn't sure exactly how to approach him. "It's Phil Torken, your neighbor up the street. You have a couple of minutes? Is this a good time?"
"Hey Phil. No problem. I'm about to go out, but how can I help?"
I reminded him about my industrial film production company and that I was looking for a location for a shoot for the following weekend. I had hoped he might know someone in town with a well-equipped exercise room or gym.
He paused when I finished, and I figured he was going to give me a polite send off. Mentally checking him off the list, I missed his answer.
"Sorry. The connection dropped for a sec. Did I hear you say you might have something at your company?"
"Yeah. We've got a professional fitness center at corporate. I don't know specifics about our policies, but why don't you call the office on Monday and talk to Selena Dreyfuss—she's head of facilities. You need the number? I'll send her a note right now to let her know you'll be calling. Next weekend?"
"Shoot, Monty. That's way more than I was expecting. I'll let you know what comes of it. Thanks a million."
Monday. That was leaving it to the last minute…too many possible ways for that to go bad. But it sounded like a dream. I hung up and went to the corporate website for Montrose Enterprises, Inc. and tooled around their careers section, hoping they made hay about their facilities. I was teased by a postage stamp image of a workout room, but the verbiage told me what I needed to know: a full complement of gym, group exercise, lockers and showers. Plan A, if I could cut the deal with Selena. I spent the rest of the afternoon pursuing Plan B.
It was past dinner by the time I'd exhausted my options. I ordered take-out and fazed out in front of a stupid movie, thinking back to those two cunts from earlier in the day. I kept my notebook close; no telling when ideas for the weekend would pop up.
*-*-*-*
"Hey, Mac. Wassup?" Sunday. I'd been up for a few hours, putting my notes into a set of directions, camera angles and lighting.
"I need to find a place for some of the crew. Can they crash at your place?"
It was a classic Mac move. Trying to save nickels wherever. I wiped my face and thought about it. I had beds for at most four, with the couches and getting creative, eight max. "Maybe for you, buddy. Sorry." Last time he'd done it to me, I had to spend 100s on a cleaning service. And even though I had two willing cleaning girls, Mac didn't need to know that.
"Hmmm." I could tell he was annoyed, but I had too much going on to house his crew. "Sure. Whatever. You have any suggestions? I've got 12 coming in, four found friends and family."
I thought about using Robbie's place and kept my mouth shut. Too much risk as it was. "I'll ask around, but things being what they've been, I haven't been keeping tabs on rooms."
He grunted. "You got the paperwork?"
I told him everything was ready for signatures and mentioned I had leads on several venues, but nothing final there. "We can always do it in the park…"
"I'm not prepared to do exteriors—can't afford it," he interrupted, "so let me know asap if that's going to be a problem. You got a treatment for me?"
"Shit. Didn't I send that over yet? Yeah. I've got three different ideas. Coming your way now. I've been working through the angles on the one I think makes most sense but let me know what you think. I can change any of it at this point." I couldn't really, but if I had to pull an all-nighter, so be it.
More grunts. "Okay. We'll need help on the catering—let me know who to call and I'll take it from there."
"No worries. Standard list of folks. I'll need to get to the rental group by Tuesday, latest, for finals, but the basics are the same for whatever way you want to go. Let me know as soon as you see the outlines."
We made whatever passed for small talk before hanging up. Ten minutes later I got a text confirming the approach I had figured was the one.