Page 76 of Jacob Michaels is Dead

“You, your grandmother, and Lucas are not getting paid well first season. Maybe the first two.” Lucinda interjected.

“My feelings.” I held a hand to my heart with a smile. “So…are we going to work on developing this?”

Another look between the two.

“Fine.” Ron sighed.

“Don’t sound too happy.” I teased as I rose from my seat.

“I just don’t know where we’ll find little people to play the Kobolds.” Ron ruminated. “I mean, there’s always CGI, but that’s expensive. Maybe forced perspective will work…”

“It’s going to be a tough sell,” Lucinda added a sigh and stood.

“I have a very inexpensive solution.” I smiled warmly. “Don’t worry.”

“I guess we’ll see what the studios say.” Ron shrugged with a laugh.

“I have a feeling that when you take it to streaming, one of them will snatch it up. Easy three-seasons green light.” I held a hand out towards her. “And then you can apologize for that comment.”

Lucinda and Ron laughed, but ultimately, we all shook hands.

Then I was leaving the production office.

The drive out to Calabasas is too long when there’s good news to be shared. It was a sunny day, though there is never a shortage of such a thing in southern California. For the first time in my life as a celebrity, I wished that I didn’t have a Lincoln MKZ but something sportier, something the roof could be lowered on. Maybe a BMW 4 Series or a Corvette…hell, even a Jeep Wrangler would have been nice on such a wonderful day. To feel the sun on my face and neck and arms as I drove from the production office meeting back home, the wind whipping through my hair as Scissor Sisters blared from the radio would have made it the best day it possibly could have been.

Lucinda and Ron had been skeptical—or, more accurately, they had pretended to be skeptical—but they were going to help develop Jacob Michaels Is… into something we could sell to Netflix or Hulu. Maybe even Amazon Prime. Then, Oma, Lucas, and I would find ourselves on a studio lot—maybe even on location—shooting our first ever project as a family and team. I couldn’t have been happier. Of course, I worked enough for all of us, there was no lack of money coming into our household, but I knew how desperately Oma wanted to get back to work on something substantial. Having a starring—or even co-starring—role in anything would make Lucas so happy. He had never been given a chance to show what a talented actor he was.

When I pulled into the driveway at home, easing the car into the garage next to Lucas’ old pickup truck that had come with us from Point Worth a decade prior, I smiled. Oma’s old Cadillac was on the far end of the garage, nearly permanently parked there since she always had someone to drive her anywhere. It was almost like yesterday that Oma had convinced the two of us two travel out to Hollywood to “give this acting thing a shot.” Now…here we were…living in Calabasas, living the dream, and about to star in our first project as a family. Life couldn’t possibly get better.

The garage closed quietly behind me as I entered the house. I didn’t bother hollering out, trying to figure out where everyone was. Oma and Lucas had to be in the same place they always were when they had the day off. They’d both been waiting for me to get home from my meeting to tell them the outcome. I walked through the house, all floor-to-ceiling windows, granite, and steel, making my way to the back patio. Just as I had suspected, as I looked out through the glass doors that looked out over the patio, I saw Lucas and Oma seated at the table. Lucas had his nose in a book with a glass of lemonade on the table before him. Oma was staring out at the hills, a flute of champagne in her hand, held grandly before her. It was a nice contrast to the house dress and slippers she hadn’t changed out of since breakfast.

Before I could make my way out to the patio to be with my boyfriend and grandmother, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I extracted my phone, tapped the screen, and glanced down at the text message I’d received:

Ron: How about more of a murder mystery with fantasy or paranormal elements? We won’t touch the characters or give you shit about who plays which character.

Smiling widely to myself, I realized that the script had hooked Ron and Lucinda more than they had been willing to let on in the meeting. No producer ever messaged so quickly after a pitch meeting. Quickly, but not so quickly as to seem desperate, I tapped out my short response.

Deal.

As I stepped out onto the patio, Oma turned her head to look at me, raising her champagne flute in a salute with a smile.

“Afternoon, assface.” She quipped before bringing her drink to her lips.

“Good afternoon, you old bag.” I nudged her shoulder with my hip as I went by. “How’s the sauce?”

“Well,” She sighed and smacked her lips, “I’ve had worse.”

I laughed as I slid into the seat next to Lucas, who still had his nose in his book. A quick glance at the cover let me know that he was rereading Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice. Using my forefinger, I thumped the cover, and Lucas jerked in his seat. Looking up from his book, as though he had been somewhere else entirely, he looked over the top of the book. For a second, he seemed disoriented, then his eyes met mine, and a smile bloomed on his face.

“Babe.” He stated happily.

“Research?” I asked, nodding at the book.

Lucas set his book on the patio table, spine up, and leaned forward to give me a chaste, yet lingering kiss.

“Mmm.” I winked as he pulled away.

“Not really research,” He gestured at the book, “but, just in case they didn’t like what you took to them today, maybe I could be inspired to come up with a better idea to tweak what we wrote.”