Page 2 of Everybody Needs a Hero

The producer sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Then I reach into my drawer, pull out the contract you signed four months ago, and explain you don’t have a real choice,” he answered. “In case you didn’t read the fine print, the final say as to who is cast in the role is mine.”

Feeling her face start to flush from anger, Drew lifted her chin. “You’re really going to do this to me?” she asked, trying to hold her temper in check a little longer. As much as she wanted to blast the man for pulling a fast one on her, letting go of her emotions wouldn’t help her case. “There’s got to be someone else. Anybody.”

Shaking his head, the producer pulled a glossy headshot off a pile of tattered scripts on his desk and held it up for her to see. The face looking back at Drew was of a startlingly beautiful woman who was immediately recognizable. “I don’t understand why you are so upset,” he said, giving the picture a shake. “Tess Landish is an A-list actress, and her name alone will help ticket sales.”

Drew didn’t care about ticket sales or how many millions the thing made at the box office.This can’t be happening, she thought, working to keep her breathing even though she was ready to scream. All she wanted was for the movie to be quality. “We searched for three months and held a hundred auditions to cast the two lead actors,” she said through clenched teeth. “Having that actress as the nurse will change the entire feel of the movie. Can you see her as a gritty nurse facing an impossible situation?” She shook her head. “Because I sure can’t. This is a huge mistake, and you know it.”

With an exhale of clear exasperation, the producer dropped the picture back on his desk and met Drew’s eye. The frustration in his look was unmistakable. “No, I don’t know it. In fact, I completely disagree,” he said. “Trust me. Tess is a pro. You’ll see in the morning.”

Without another word, Drew stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her. If that was the hand dealt to her, she would find a way to make it work. If she was anything, she was resourceful. Twenty years as an emergency room nurse in Los Angeles was no joke.Tess Landish doesn’t know what she signed up for, she thought, marching down the hallway. Drew planned to push the woman to the limit of her skills no matter what the producer or the director might say. Slapping the elevator button to go back to her car, she resolved to squeeze the true heart of the role out of the actress. If it meant being in Tess Landish’s face every second, Drew was willing to do it. Anything to protect the story that took her ten years to write. Her heart was in that story. The book was her baby, and the message on the pages needed to be shared. Blasting through the skyrise’s lobby, past the security guard, and out the revolving door, Drew squared her shoulders. She sure as hell wouldn’t let some diva ruin it.

“Have a good night, Kim,”Ashley called from the doorway as she waved to the barista at the espresso machine behind the high, wooden counter. “Text me if anything comes up.”

Kim smiled in her direction, but her hands were busy making a latte for a waiting customer. “No problem, boss,” she said over the hiss of steam. “Thanks for coming in at the last minute to cover for Elle. I hated to call on Sunday.”

“Not a problem. I hope she’s okay,” Ashley said before slipping out the glass door onto the sidewalk and stretching her legs. A nice long run along the beach path was exactly what she needed to work out her tight muscles. Four hours of making ice coffees and other hot or cold beverages for the nonstop tourist crowd might make some people want to get off their feet, but that was never the case with her. Ashley loved to be in motion and attributed part of her success with the coffee shop to her ability to go long hours on her feet. When she first started the business, it was her and only her behind the counter. Twelve-hour days, seven days a week for the first six months. Even though the work was exhausting, seeing her dream come true made it easy to keep going. Three years later, she had a staff of four and most weekends off.

Starting a light jog to warm up, Ashley passed the other businesses along the Venice Beach boardwalk. There was an eclectic mix of stores of all shapes and sizes. Souvenir shops selling t-shirts with every imaginable saying on them. A famous tattoo parlor. A thirty-three flavors ice cream shop. She felt energized by the mixture and smiled when a man in a turban and white pantsuit playing an electric guitar rollerbladed past her. As she kept going, she noticed the different street artists along the path were packing up their supplies. A couple, who often came to her shop for coffee, waved to her, and she returned it before coming to the famous Muscle Beach outdoor gym. As the sun would set soon, only a few bodybuilders remained lifting remarkable numbers of metal plates on bars with what appeared to be ease.

Ashley slowed and started jogging in place. “Hey, Lou,” she called to the muscle-bound man closest to the metal railing surrounding the space. “The protein powder you wanted came in. Come by tomorrow and take one of our new smoothy recipes for a test spin.”

Lou grinned, his white teeth seeming to glow against the deep, dark tan of his face. “Can’t wait,” he said. “Strawberry?”

“Yes, just like you asked for. Strawberry,” Ashley confirmed as she picked up her pace again. The cement path widened before her, leaving space for bicycles on one side and runners or walkers on the other. She only had one more person to check in with before the three-mile run north to Santa Monica. Up ahead, a woman wrapped in pieces of a red and white checked blanket over a gray sweatshirt and dirty jeans sat in a mishmash of belongings at the edge of the route. A ratty, LA Dodgers, blue baseball cap covered greasy hair pulled back into a ponytail, and a tattered cardboard sign asked for donations to feed her dog. By Ashley’s estimate over the last few months, the black and white pooch who sat patiently beside the woman had to be one of the best fed in Los Angeles. Slowing as she approached them, Ashley held out a small white paper sack. “Hi, Bev. Hi, Floyd.”

The woman gave Ashly a wide smile with only a few teeth missing among her stained ones. “Hi, honey,” Bev replied as she reached to take the offering. “You’re too good to us.”

Ashley winked. “Good karma,” she said, knowing the freshly made banana nut muffin for Bev and the pumpkin dog biscuits for Floyd would make their evening a little nicer.

“You’ll have plenty as far as I can tell,” Bev called after Ashley as she lengthened her stride. Although her life was great, she didn’t mind the sound of that.

Staying in the slow lane,Bryce nursed her dad’s old pickup truck up the long hill that separated the Los Angeles Valley from cities to the north. Six miles of steep incline known as the Grapevine, notorious for bringing truckers to a slow crawl and indiscriminately overheating engines. As the sun started to go down, Bryce tried hard to avoid the latter, although the temp gauge on the dash flirted with disaster. As she passed yet another sedan on the side of the highway with steam billowing out from under the hood, she checked the odometer to see how many miles were left. Only one more. Then she would be over the top and cruising down into the valley. Forcing herself to relax her hands on the wheel, she made herself focus on what she would say to Ashley when she finally saw her again after all that time. After years of replaying it, Bryce had the scene set in her mind. Going by the coffee shop, ordering something simple off the menu, and hoping against hope Ashley recognized her. If the woman didn’t, that would be that.

Although she trained in the Marine Corps to always have a Plan B, in this case there wasn’t one. Bryce needed Ashley to at least remember her enough to say hello if they ran into each other on the street. Hoping for a romantic spark seemed a bit farfetched, but there had to be at least something there for Bryce to run with. Of course, there was no reason she couldn’t be the one to initiate a recollection. Yet in her heart, she knew that if their time in college together didn’t make enough of a lasting impression on Ashley for her to recognize Bryce when brought face to face, then any hope for more was unlikely. Instead, Bryce would slip away with her coffee and go back to her life in the military. Ashley would never be the wiser, and maybe Bryce would finally be able to move on. Maybe be able to put away the fantasy they made a connection during all those long, late-night homework sessions together.

Only once had Bryce ever tried to broach the subject of how she felt about Ashley. They had celebrated the end of a term with other classmates in a bar near the college campus. It was a bittersweet gathering for Bryce, because the next day she was driving to Bakersfield to see her dad before leaving to start Marine Corps basic training. Due to circumstances outside of his control, her father explained to her the college money had run out and finishing even one more term was out of the question.

After several tequila shots with beer chasers, Bryce had felt fortified with liquid courage. When Ashley declared it was time for her to go, Bryce made a point of leaving at the same time and walked the woman to her car. Standing in the parking lot with only the glow of a single blue security light nearby, Bryce tried to find the right words to tell Ashley how much she meant to her. The words didn’t come. As if sensing her struggle, Ashley smiled as she ran a hand up Bryce’s arm. “You’re amazing, Bryce,” she said. “I don’t know how I will get along without you.”

Bryce nodded, desperate not to let the moment pass before she told Ashley what was in her heart. “So are you,” was all she came up with, and then Ashley was kissing her on the cheek and climbing into her car.

“Be safe,” Ashley said before driving away leaving Bryce standing alone in the near dark wondering how she let Ashley get away.

Taking a slow, deep breath, Bryce steered around a creeping eighteen-wheeler and was thankful for the green Tejon Pass road exit sign ahead. Her truck had made the challenging climb, and she shifted through the gears as the vehicle picked up speed to make the long run downhill. She considered it a good sign to have surpassed that first obstacle on her quest. In another thirty minutes she would be at her motel. Being on a tight budget, it wasn’t much in the way of luxury, but at least it was on the west side of the city. That put her not too far from the Venice Beach boardwalk and the place she needed to visit. In the morning, she would go to the Landish Coffee shop and roll the dice.

3

Tess took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and focused on the woman with short brown hair sitting in a chair across the parking lot from her. She sat near where the film crew worked to set up the movie’s first shot. Thankfully, Tess didn’t think she looked at all intimidating in her khaki shorts, green tennis shirt, and black hoodie. Her attention concentrated on a large open binder on her lap, which made sense. After all, the woman was not only the author of the book the script came from, but also the screenwriter, and so she would be interested in the upcoming scene.The talented Drew Andersen, Tess thought.Who apparently already doesn’t like me.As soon as Tess arrived, the movie producer advised her that Drew was not a fan of her work. That had come as a bit of an ambush when she had only been on the set five minutes. Not that she expected the cast and crew to look to her as a hero for stepping in to help the production, but outright hostility from the writer could be a real problem. So, she planned to fix it.

Starting to walk across the parking lot, ready to turn on every ounce of her charm, Tess was about to call out a hello when the movie’s director intercepted her. “Tess,” he said, walking toward her with a warm smile crossing his face. “It’s terrific to see you.” Turning to return the director’s greeting, out of the corner of her eye, Tess saw Drew’s head whip up and a scowl settle on her face.

With a sigh at the unlucky turn, Tess looked at the director. “Hello,” she said. “I’m glad to be here.”

“Thank you for being flexible and bailing us out,” the director said. “But shouldn’t you be headed to hair and makeup? We can catch up later.”

“In a second,” Tess said, looking in Drew’s direction. “I wanted to introduce myself to the brilliant author whose book the movie is based on.” If the woman heard the compliment, it didn’t register on her face. Even though she had refocused on the binder, the scowl was still in place.

“Well, let me introduce you,” the director said, walking with Tess as they approached where the author sat. As they did, Drew’s brown eyes lifted, holding a cold stare that didn’t waiver, but Tess didn’t drop her eyes. As much as she wanted to be friends with the woman, she wouldn’t be intimidated. She had too many years of experience in the industry to succumb to that. The director held out a hand to point at the author. “Tess, this is Drew Andersen.” He waited for a beat, and when neither woman spoke, he cleared his throat and nodded toward Tess. “And this is—”

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