moved slowly, brown eyes watching me warily.
“Hello, Michele,” I said, smiling. “Frank has told me so much about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
As if I’d made a joke, Michele threw back his head and laughed.
“See? I told you,” Frank said to him, holding up his hand for a high five.
The boys slapped their palms together. Then Michele stepped forward and gave me a hug.
“My goodness!” I said, hugging him back. “What did I do to deserve this?”
“Michele always knows when people are good,” Frank said. “He can tell just by looking at them. He’s got a fifth sense.”
“Sixth sense,” Grady corrected. He clapped his hands. “Okay, boys, on your way. Aunt Jess needs some quiet time.” He turned to me and waggled his eyebrows. “I’m going to fix you my special concoction.”
“What concoction is that?” I asked as the boys whooped and thundered back to the bedroom.
“I call it the Fletcherita,” he said dramatically, going into the kitchen, opening a cabinet door, and taking down three glasses.
“Is that related to the margarita?”
“Fourth cousin, once removed.”
“Well, this should be interesting,” I said, shaking my head.
By the time Donna returned home, the boys were upstairs in Michele’s apartment, and Grady and I were deep in conversation about the afternoon’s proceedings, our Fletcheritas half-consumed.
“You would not believe the lines at Whole Foods,” she said, handing off two shopping bags to Grady. “You’d think they were giving away the food instead of charging top price for it.”
While Grady emptied the contents of the bags into the refrigerator and the cupboards, Donna hung up her coat and greeted me. “How did the meeting go?” she asked, sinking down on the sofa.
“Good, I think. They’re a bit of an odd group, but I’m sure it will go well.”
“Tell me about Anne Tripper. She says the most awful things on television. Is she that mean in person?”
“We didn’t speak for long,” I said, reluctant to criticize a colleague, although in truth I hadn’t found her the most pleasant person. “Stella Bedford was very friendly. In fact, she insisted we take a photograph together. She’s going to send a print to me, and her manager promised Grady a copy, too. I’ll ask her to autograph it for you.”
“That would be great,” Donna said. She raised her voice to be heard in the kitchen. “Speaking of Grady, I see Mr. Fletcher has been making his special concoction.”
“And I didn’t forget you,” Grady said, bringing a glass for Donna into the living room.
I waited until he was seated next to his wife to ask, “Grady, did you ever speak with Daniel Howerstein?” I turned to Donna. “The producer asked him to call.”
Grady laughed. “He didn’t actually ask,” he said. “He passed me a note, like we were in high school, telling me to call him this afternoon. He’s a tough man to reach, but I finally got through on my way home.”
“What did he want?” Donna asked.
“Strange. He just got back from working on a shoot in California, and he said his crew didn’t get paid on time. California has a law requiring that the production company pay the crew at the same time they pay their office staff. If not, the production company, in this case Eye Screen, can get fined.”
“Who’s supposed to pay them?” I asked.
“We are,” Grady said. “That’s why companies use payroll services. Big production companies like Howerstein’s shoot all over the world. That’s complicated enough. They don’t want to have to contend with all the different regulations in every state or country. With us, they don’t have to. They just give us the time cards for the crew. We do all the processing, make sure to account for pension and welfare, and whatever other requirements there are, and write the checks. Of course, we don’t send them out until Eye Screen sends us the money to cover the payroll.”
“Did they forget to do
“Hello, Michele,” I said, smiling. “Frank has told me so much about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
As if I’d made a joke, Michele threw back his head and laughed.
“See? I told you,” Frank said to him, holding up his hand for a high five.
The boys slapped their palms together. Then Michele stepped forward and gave me a hug.
“My goodness!” I said, hugging him back. “What did I do to deserve this?”
“Michele always knows when people are good,” Frank said. “He can tell just by looking at them. He’s got a fifth sense.”
“Sixth sense,” Grady corrected. He clapped his hands. “Okay, boys, on your way. Aunt Jess needs some quiet time.” He turned to me and waggled his eyebrows. “I’m going to fix you my special concoction.”
“What concoction is that?” I asked as the boys whooped and thundered back to the bedroom.
“I call it the Fletcherita,” he said dramatically, going into the kitchen, opening a cabinet door, and taking down three glasses.
“Is that related to the margarita?”
“Fourth cousin, once removed.”
“Well, this should be interesting,” I said, shaking my head.
By the time Donna returned home, the boys were upstairs in Michele’s apartment, and Grady and I were deep in conversation about the afternoon’s proceedings, our Fletcheritas half-consumed.
“You would not believe the lines at Whole Foods,” she said, handing off two shopping bags to Grady. “You’d think they were giving away the food instead of charging top price for it.”
While Grady emptied the contents of the bags into the refrigerator and the cupboards, Donna hung up her coat and greeted me. “How did the meeting go?” she asked, sinking down on the sofa.
“Good, I think. They’re a bit of an odd group, but I’m sure it will go well.”
“Tell me about Anne Tripper. She says the most awful things on television. Is she that mean in person?”
“We didn’t speak for long,” I said, reluctant to criticize a colleague, although in truth I hadn’t found her the most pleasant person. “Stella Bedford was very friendly. In fact, she insisted we take a photograph together. She’s going to send a print to me, and her manager promised Grady a copy, too. I’ll ask her to autograph it for you.”
“That would be great,” Donna said. She raised her voice to be heard in the kitchen. “Speaking of Grady, I see Mr. Fletcher has been making his special concoction.”
“And I didn’t forget you,” Grady said, bringing a glass for Donna into the living room.
I waited until he was seated next to his wife to ask, “Grady, did you ever speak with Daniel Howerstein?” I turned to Donna. “The producer asked him to call.”
Grady laughed. “He didn’t actually ask,” he said. “He passed me a note, like we were in high school, telling me to call him this afternoon. He’s a tough man to reach, but I finally got through on my way home.”
“What did he want?” Donna asked.
“Strange. He just got back from working on a shoot in California, and he said his crew didn’t get paid on time. California has a law requiring that the production company pay the crew at the same time they pay their office staff. If not, the production company, in this case Eye Screen, can get fined.”
“Who’s supposed to pay them?” I asked.
“We are,” Grady said. “That’s why companies use payroll services. Big production companies like Howerstein’s shoot all over the world. That’s complicated enough. They don’t want to have to contend with all the different regulations in every state or country. With us, they don’t have to. They just give us the time cards for the crew. We do all the processing, make sure to account for pension and welfare, and whatever other requirements there are, and write the checks. Of course, we don’t send them out until Eye Screen sends us the money to cover the payroll.”
“Did they forget to do
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