"Only two years." Inside the restaurant, Rachel McAdams looked across at Matthew and said, "You've changed so much."
Matthew smiled. "Got even more handsome, right?"
"More mature..." Rachel McAdams thought for a moment. "And you've got something special—people can feel it. Call it presence."
They'd just finished lunch but stayed to chat.
"When did you get back?" Matthew asked.
Rachel lifted her water glass. "About half a month. As soon as I'd rented a place and settled, I thought of you, old friend."
Matthew guessed from what she'd said, "North Hollywood?"
"Mm." Rachel pointed behind him. "East side, near Burbank."
"Funny." Matthew pointed behind himself. "I live in a community west of Burbank, close to North Hollywood."
Rachel's dimples showed. "We're practically neighbors. Come visit sometime."
Matthew nodded. "Sure."
"I read in the papers—" Rachel sounded curious "—you're shooting Disney's big annual film, pirates of the caribbean?"
The press had already reported it. "Yep. We head to the Caribbean for location shoots next week."
Rachel didn't hide her envy. "Lucky you, landing a resource that good."
Matthew humbly deflected. "Just lucky; my Agent's well-connected."
"Without ability you still wouldn't get the role," Rachel said. "Disney won't gamble a project like that."
Matthew changed the subject. "How about you? Found work yet?"
"I lined something up before coming back." She'd clearly prepared. "I'm in a Disney film too, just a walk-on part."
"Take it step by step." Seeing her disappointment, Matthew comforted her. "Opportunities will come."
Rachel gave a small shrug. "Not much else I can do." She sighed. "I'm not my Agent's priority; better resources are impossible."
She looked at Matthew, eyes unreadable.
Matthew didn't know what to say—he couldn't exactly invite her to Angel Talent Agency and promise to square things with Helen Herman, could he?
Angel Agency's resources were focused solely on him; if Rachel joined, they'd be in direct competition, and they couldn't sit chatting this easily.
When he didn't bite, Rachel dropped it. "They say the Caribbean scenery is gorgeous."
This time he answered. "Weather's lousy—windstorms all the time."
They talked another half hour. Matthew checked his watch. "Let's call it here, Rachel. I've got gym and training soon."
"All right." Rachel nodded.
After he paid, they left the restaurant. Rachel said, "Just drop me at the acting school; I need to pick up my bike."
The car couldn't fit the bicycle, so Matthew simply drove her to the school gate.
Rachel unbuckled and opened the door, then suddenly turned back.
"Something else?" Matthew asked.
She hesitated. "Matthew, you're seeing more productions and scripts now—if..." Her tone turned earnest,
"I mean if—you come across a suitable chance, could you put in a word for me? Even a small supporting role."
Back in acting school they'd been close; though two years had passed, Matthew still remembered. "If I run into something right for you and I have any pull, I will."
He said it, but he knew chances were slim—he was only a minor star.
Rachel got out; Matthew watched her enter the school, then drove off toward Westwood. Recalling the meeting, he felt this Rachel differed from the one two years ago.
Yet two years could change many people and many things.
At the gym, Matthew went straight to the second floor. Nebula wasn't around; the Kickboxing coach stood idle. The club catered to high-end clients, and on a weekday only two or three people practiced basic moves.
Matthew changed, warmed up thoroughly, and an assistant coach in full pads stepped in as his human target.
After about ten minutes, someone outside the floor called him.
"Matthew! Matthew!" Nebula's voice rang out. "Pause for a sec!"
Peeling off his gloves and wiping the sweat, Matthew looked toward the voice—Nebula was waving him over, a stocky young man with a briefcase at his side.
He'd seen the guy not long ago—that rich second-gen, Fox Sherman.
Leaving the training floor, Matthew grabbed a towel in the lounge to mop the sweat, then walked over.
"Hey, Matthew." Fox Sherman greeted first. "We meet again."
Matthew nodded politely. "Hello, Fox."
"Fox needed you but had no contact info," Nebula said simply. "He's come to the gym several times looking for you."
Nebula's stance was clear—after the introduction he left at once, plainly wanting no part in whatever lay between Fox Sherman and Matthew.
That was perfectly normal; Matthew didn't mind. Once Nebula was gone, Fox Sherman said, "Shall we talk in the first-floor lounge?"
"Sure." Matthew had no idea what the man wanted.
They went downstairs to the leisure area set aside for members. The club was quiet today; the place was empty.
"Care for something to drink?" Fox Sherman asked after sitting down.
Matthew shook his head. "No, thanks." He cut to the chase. "Fox, what did you need?"
"Nothing major." Fox Sherman looked young but sounded worldly. "I heard you landed the lead in Disney's mega-production pirates of the caribbean—congratulations."
Hearing that, Matthew replied politely, "Thank you."
He said no more; Fox Sherman had sought him out—surely not just for congratulations—and would speak when ready.
Fox Sherman studied him. "After Pirates, do you have new plans?"
Matthew gave a slight shake. "No. I'm focusing on this shoot—no distractions."
"After this film," Fox Sherman pressed, "wouldn't it be better to jump straight into the next job?"
"I won't have time to audition," Matthew said, guessing the man's intent, "or to prep properly."
Fox Sherman waved it off. "That's no problem." He opened the briefcase, pulled out a script, and slid it across. "You may have heard from Nebula—I came to L.A. to invest in film. I've partnered with Lakeside Pictures to finance an action project. The female lead and several supporting roles are set; we're only missing the male lead…"
He smiled at Matthew, waiting for him to speak first, but Matthew stayed silent, letting him continue.
Matthew had seen Lakeside Pictures in Angel Agency's files—a mid-sized outfit in Beverly Hills known for indies and B-movies, the company behind hits like Sky Blitz Cop and Runaway Bride.
That Fox Sherman could bankroll one of their pictures showed serious money.
Seeing Matthew still quiet, Fox Sherman went on. "Most cast and Crew are locked; we just lack the lead! Matthew, I know you need to focus on Pirates, so no audition, no special prep. We're still in prep; by the time we roll, your Pirates scenes should be wrapped…"
He painted it beautifully, sounding deeply considerate. "Even if you're not done, no matter—the production can wait and shoot your lead material once you're free."
Matthew spoke slowly. "Sounds great." He asked, "But do you actually have final say?"
"Absolutely!" Fox Sherman vowed. "I'm the biggest investor; the producer answers to me and Lakeside. I'm the main backer."
He lowered his voice. "Honestly, landing a star like you would delight Lakeside and the whole Crew."
As Fox Sherman spoke, Matthew kept thinking.
A guy like him doesn't grab a falling pie—he checks for the trap beneath. Of all actors, why did Fox Sherman pick him? They'd met, sure, but that wasn't reason enough.
After two mental turns Matthew saw it clearly—he was Pirates' lead. Given Jerry Bruckheimer's track record, Pirates had a high chance of success, making him even hotter, and then…