Chapter 5, Scene 2, Part 10

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Scene 2

After the rehearsal, the wedding party drifted across the lawn to the flagstone terrace for the welcome reception. Within half an hour, close to a hundred immaculately groomed wedding guests clad in summer-weight suits and a rainbow of summer dresses mingled or clustered around the open bar near French doors. Waiters in crisp white shirts and black trousers circulated with silver trays of prosciutto-wrapped scallops, enormous shrimp on skewers, and caviar on wafers.

Mickey recognized most of the guests by sight if not by acquaintance. He circulated, exchanging a few words with each before moving on. The male Wisconsin relatives in dark jackets sweated in the late afternoon sun and clutched beer bottles, having rejected the bartender's frosted glasses. Their wives and girlfriends giddily eyeballed celebrities they'd only seen on screen. Candy's skeletal fashion photographer friend slithered between the assembled guests wielding a digital SLR. Candy must have asked Raynald to snap photos of the guests. Mickey knew the wedding planner had arranged for a professional photographer to take official wedding photos.

Mickey searched for Tiffany, spied her seated beside Garth at a small marble-topped table overlooking the lake, her delicate hand encased in a possessive paw. He scowled while turning over in his mind various plausible errands on which to send Garth to get him out of the way. Halden strolled over to his side, a bottle of beer in his left hand.

"Tiffany's a train wreck," Halden observed. After tilting the cold one to his mouth and swallowing a long draught, he continued, "I love Candy, but why she surrounds herself with women friends who can't hold their liquor, I do not understand."

Mickey shrugged. Privately, he believed Candy had her own reasons for cultivating friendships with the Hollywood "in" crowd. No one knew better than he what it took to make it in show business. He respected Candy's drive and rapier sharp mind, but acknowledged to himself that fierce predatory ambition in anyone, male or female, made him wary. He'd seen too many people compromise their morals in order to succeed. Because Candy had cut her teeth in the high stakes fashion business, Mickey knew she'd have no trouble surviving or even thriving in the shark-infested Hollywood pool. He crossed his fingers that his buddy Halden wasn't being used to gain admission into that pool.

Aloud, he opined to Halden, "It's Hollywood. The young stars can't handle the pressure to be perfect. They turn to alcohol or drugs."

"Asta refuses to hang with Candy's friends, thank the Lord."

Not that Asta has a choice, Mickey reflected to himself. Asta's wholesome features, sturdy fit physique and career as a stunt professional didn't put Halden's sister in the same league as the whisper-thin knockouts with boob jobs who climbed over each other to be cast in the few roles available, and often burned out quickly in the hot glare of publicity. Mickey said only, "Speed is Asta's drug of choice."

"She's a daredevil, all right. Keeps Mom up at night worrying." Halden took a swig from the long-necked brown bottle, shook his head. "Women."

Tiffany's slim hand fluttered to beckon a waiter. "Seems like Tiff wants a refill. I should get over there."

Halden clapped a free hand on his shoulder. "Relax. I asked Garth to take Tiffany under his wing this weekend, try to keep her away from the booze at least until after she walks down the aisle ahead of Candy. You're off the hook."

"Wonderful, just wonderful." Mickey absently patted the inside jacket pocket where he'd stashed an agency contract in anticipation of getting Tiffany alone. Halden knew all about his goal to sign Tiffany before Mickey's boss finished negotiating a Herron Talent Agency contract with Tiff's manager. They'd discussed it that afternoon on the golf course.

Noticing Mickey's expression, Halden added, "Hey buddy, I thought I was doing you a favor. Candy's cousin is hot!" He tagged Rachel with his chin.

The leggy blonde chatted comfortably with Halden's mother while avidly observing the curated assembly of Hollywood actors, directors, producers and their partners. Halden didn't care about status or fame. He'd insisted on inviting only friends and relatives to share his big day. It just so happened that many of his friends owned Oscars and Golden Globe awards.

Halden continued, "Anyhow, an agency contract signed by someone who's drunk isn't legal, am I right?"

"Even if it were legal, it'd certainly be morally problematic," Mickey admitted, disappointed all the same. "Should Garth succeed in sobering up Tiffany, and without that barracuda of a manager breathing down her neck, I'm counting on convincing Tiff to sign with my new agency."

"If Tiffany's smart she'll be begging you rather than the other way round. Everyone in the business knows that it was you, not your smarmy boss, who called in some favors and arranged her audition for the Bond girl role."

"Ralph Herron is tight with Tiff's manager. That's why they're planning to sign her and cut me out of the ten percent agency commission."

Halden raised his brows. "Herron and Tiffany's manager are having an affair? That a conflict of interest?"

Mickey snorted. "The word is Tiffany York doesn't give a damn which ass her manager kisses, as long as Tiff gets primo parts and a fat paycheck."

Halden shook his head sadly. "Hollywood."

"Yeah."

Halden and Mickey tipped back their heads and drank deeply in unison.



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