Caught on Camera

Chapter 3, Scene 1, Part 4

Chapter 3

Working Guy

Disregarding his half-clad, sweaty appearance after his morning run, Damien McNichol -- Mickey to his friends -- strode across the Sterling Inn lobby to Reception. A beautiful dark-haired woman with luminous cognac skin straightened and subtly thrust D cup breasts toward him. An engraved brushed nickel tag on the tightly fitted pale grey uniform with silver buttons supplied her name.

He braced his forearms on the marble counter. "Juanita, has Tiffany York checked in?"

"Not yet, sir. Shall I have a bell boy locate you when Ms. York arrives? Or if you prefer I'll take care of it myself." The woman's hooded gaze roamed over his torso, making no secret of her interest in another type of personal service.

Mickey possessed no inclination for casual afternoon delight on this brief trip to Canada to attend an old friend's wedding. Not when Tiffany York held his future in her soft little hands. He withdrew a step. To soften the unspoken rejection, he flashed the charming grin he'd perfected in front of a mirror. "If you'd leave a message on my room phone when she arrives, that'll be fine. It's McNichol in Room Twelve."

The front desk agent masked her disappointment with a sunny smile. "I know who you are, Mr. McNichol." Reverence honeyed her words. "You're a Hollywood agent."

Hell's bells. Was there no place in the world a man might escape women who pursued him for ulterior motives? In Juanita, he recognized the too familiar gambit to acquire an "I slept with a Hollywood agent" notch on her belt. Or worse, use him for access to a casting director. Or to shop a script she happened to carry in her handbag. He'd seen it all during ten years in the business of representing minor actors, screenwriters and members of film crews.

With his career on the cusp of moving to the next level, he needed a clear field to impress Tiffany. Why not deflect the female staff's advances to a more promising candidate, namely his weekend rival for Tiffany's attention.

"Do you know Garth Armstrong?" When she shook her head, he leaned in and confided in a low voice, "Garth is the millionaire brother of the groom and runs his film studio." He added with a suggestive wink, "Garth is single at the moment."

Juanita's lush lips puckered into a barely inaudible "ooooh" and her smoky amber eyes widened. "Thank you, sir."

Mickey slapped a hand on the marble. "You'll inform me the minute Ms. York steps on the property?"

"Certainly, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Please have a dozen pink roses sent to Ms. York's room, and charge it to my credit card."

The agent tapped the request into the computer. "The message on the card, sir?"

He pondered a moment, and then grinned. "From the man who will make your dreams come true. Mickey."