"Sure I will. But even with a salary, I would.
How do you expect me to do a job for you if I can't spend money?
Money is the only thing in this town nobody talks back to."
"I’ll give you a ten-per-cent participation in profits. But no stock interest."
He studied me for a moment. "What about the expense account?"
"That's O.K."
He stuck out his hand. "It's a deal."
It was after three o'clock when we walked onto Stage Nine.
The place was jumping, a mumble of buzzing, efficient noise, as they got ready for the next take.
Nevada was standing on the edge of the set; Rina wasn't anywhere in sight.
I stopped near the sound man.
"How's it coming?"
He looked up at me and grinned.
"Sounds great," he said, tapping his earphones.
I smiled and walked over to Nevada. He was talking to the director and they both turned as I came up.
"How's she doing?"
The new director shrugged.
"She was a little nervous at first but she's settling down.
She'll be O.K."
"She’ll be great," Nevada said warmly. "I never figured all the times she cued me on the script that it would come in handy for her too."
One of the assistant directors hurried up.
"We're ready now, Mr. Carrol."
The director nodded and the assistant turned around and yelled,
"Places, everybody!"
The director walked over to the camera as Nevada moved out on the set.
I turned and saw Rina entering from the side. I stared, unable to believe my eyes.
Her long, white-blond hair was tied up on top of her head and they'd bound her breasts so tight she looked like a boy.
Her mouth was painted in a tiny Cupid's bow and her eyebrows were penciled to a thin, unnatural line.
She was no longer a woman – she was a caricature of every ad in Vanity Fair.
Dan's face was impassive. He stared at me, his eyes unrevealing.
"They did a good job," he said. "She's right in the image."
"She don't look like a woman."
"That's what they go for."
"I don't give a damn what they go for!
I don't like it.
Broads that look like that are a dime a dozen in this town."
A faint smile came into Dan's eyes.
"You don't like it, change it," he said.
"You're the boss. It's your picture."
I stared at him for a moment. I felt like walking out onto the set and blowing a fuse. But instinct held me back.
I knew one more display like yesterday's would demoralize the whole crew.
"Tell Carrol I want to see him," I said to Dan. He nodded approvingly.
"Smart," he said.
"That's the right way to do it. You may need me even less than I thought!" He walked over to the director.
A moment later, the director called a ten-minute break.
He came over to me and I could see he was nervous.
"What seems to be the trouble, Mr. Cord?"
"Who O.K.'d that make-up and costume?"
The director looked at me, then over his shoulder at Rina.
"I'm sure it was approved by wardrobe and make-up," he said.