In Cannes

The Lobby

Ada Faraday stood in the lobby of the Hotel Barriere Le Majestic, taking a moment to smooth back the sides of her sleek ponytail and adjust her cream-colored silk slacks. Around her, the bustle of visitors and hotel employees moved around her like a river around stone. Italian leather heels clacked against the cool, white marble floor tiles, impeccably dressed patrons lounged on the chocolate-colored, crushed velvet sofas, and bellhops whipped by with bright brass luggage trolleys, packed to the brim with leather suitcases adorned with designer labels.

Ada clutched her own worn leather pad-folio, which had definitely seen better days. Even though it didn't look pretty, it was her good luck charm. Her mother had given it to her as a gift years ago when she first started out as a PA at a LA publicity firm, fresh out of college and hungry to work. Fifteen years, one marriage, a subsequent divorce, and countless late nights later, Ada was finally able to work for herself as a freelance press coordinator, which was why she was in Cannes in the first place. The Cannes Film Festival hired her especially to coordinate press calls and appearances for actor Tom Hardy, who's new film would have the prestigious honor of closing the festival. Ada had worked many film festivals before, including Cannes, but never at this level, and never for someone with Tom Hardy's reputation in the industry.

The word that came up time and again to describe Tom Hardy was "difficult", but Ada didn't pay that too much mind. She had worked with plenty of celebrities who were considered difficult, but who, in fact, were actually intelligent, dedicated actors who refused to let anyone other than themselves dictate the narrative in the press about them. Through the years, Ada had worked with her share of actors, and rarely was it the difficult ones who turned out to be the real assholes, but she had to admit she was a little nervous about meeting Tom. She had seen some of his work, and though she couldn't deny that he was extremely talented, his presence (at least on film) seemed intimidating to say the least.

The large gold-trimmed entrance doors suddenly opened, letting in a warm, salty breeze in from the beach. A distinguished looking woman in her early 50's came in, looked around briefly, and once she spotted Ada, a smile lit up her face, and she immediately made her way towards her.

"Hi! Ada?" she asked, stretching out a hand.

Ada quickly straightened up and immediately took the woman's hand. "Yes, I'm Ada," she said, shaking it firmly. "You must be Carol."

The woman nodded, looking a little breathless. She was dressed comfortably, but not shabbily, in tan pants, an olive colored army-style jacket that was more Gucci than Goodwill, and a lightweight scarf with paint stroke patterns in golds and browns. Her straw-colored hair was pulled back from her face with a large tortoiseshell clip, with a few hurried strands framing her face. Her shoes were decidedly non-glamorous, but definitely looked comfortable. Ada immediately knew this was a woman whose job kept her on her feet all day.

"Yes, I'm Tom's publicist," Carol replied, shifting a leather satchel bag back onto her shoulder and opening up the flap. "So, Tom is on his way in - he left Heathrow this morning," she said, immediately getting down to business.

She pulled a glossy covered packet from her satchel and handed it over to Ada. "He should get here in about two hours, so I'm giving you a copy of our press kit for your reference," she said brushing an errant hair away from her face. " I know the festival has you coordinating the press calls for Tom for the event and we're happy for the help - word is you know the local press like the back of your hand."

Ada smiled and took the packet. "Yes, I've been working the festival for a couple of years now, and have been fortunate to make some good contacts."

Carol smiled. "Modest, huh? Or maybe just smart enough to know to be modest. I like that." She winked and closed her satchel back up. "So I'm going to check Tom into the hotel, and he has a photo call this afternoon at the Grand Hyatt, so I figured we can all meet up there around 2:00 p.m. and go over his schedule."

Ada opened her pad-folio and scribbled down the details, closing it shut with a snap when done.

"Sounds good - I'm going to follow up on a couple of calls," she said. "I've been taking with Grayson Carter's people about a possible cover piece for Vanity Fair for Tom while he's here, so I will keep you updated about where we are with that."

Carol raised an impressed eyebrow. "Wow...I can't even get a call back from that dickhead," she said, looking down at her phone, which had just chirped with a notification. "Sounds great - keep me posted. I'll see you at 2:00 p.m."

Ada smiled and nodded. "See you there."