Jim hadn't managed to catch Vijay as he left the company. Jenny also doubted he could have obtained the CSI performance master tape so easily—it was a systemic issue within the entire production crew. Unless he'd cultivated a relationship with the staff responsible for safeguarding the data, it was practically impossible. And Jim's overbearing demeanor clearly signaled he wouldn't have been on good terms with the lower-level crew members.
Vijay didn't offer her a ride, and Jenny didn't have a pass. She ended up hailing a cab back to the set. With a smile, she coaxed the security guard to follow her to the car. He accompanied her all the way to the studio, where he confirmed she was an actress. She bought him coffee to thank him for his leniency, finally making it back in time for the post-lunch makeup and costume changes. Naturally, she skipped lunch and spent the entire afternoon filming in a dizzying state of extreme hunger.
During a break, Jenny spotted Cesare and Jim standing at the edge of the set. Someone approached to shake their hands and greet them. The rest of the details escaped Jenny—she was too far away and too busy working to pay attention. She tried to find Dave—she hadn't even had a chance to speak with him after returning before getting into makeup and on set.
Dave was also on set, but far from Cesare and the others. Jenny didn't know if he'd done it on purpose. Amidst one murder scene after another, she simply didn't have the energy to think about it.
After receiving the full script for the episode, the performance space now offered that specific episode as a selection. However, there was no finished footage to watch, no option to empathize with Vanita, and even the faces of Nick, Warwick, and others remained blurred. Still, it was sufficient for rehearsal purposes. Jenny had rehearsed the scenes multiple times in the acting space, so she was well-prepared. Though the afternoon's scenes weren't entirely without difficulty, she mostly nailed them in just a few takes. Often, the director requested additional takes simply to capture different angles, ensuring more options later.
The afternoon shoot passed without incident, wrapping up all her scenes. She might be called back for reshoots before the official broadcast. The CBS crew would mail Jenny her check within the month, settling her full compensation. In short, this shoot had been smooth sailing for Jenny. Not only did everything go well on set, but off-set, none of the scenarios Dave had worried about materialized. The two leading ladies of CSI, Catherine and Sarah, didn't have any one-on-one scenes with Jenny and were rarely filmed in the same studio.
After wrapping, she shook hands with the director, thanked him for his support, and casually accepted his invitation to grab lunch sometime. Jenny hesitated briefly before heading straight for Dave. She raised her hand for a high-five. "I did it, Dave! My first scene is in the can!"
Dave smiled back. "Yes, congratulations!"
Compared to the morning, his demeanor had shifted subtly toward distance. Jenny frowned, about to speak, when Jim approached. "Hey, Jenny, congrats. You nailed it."
"Thanks, Jim." Jenny responded with renewed warmth. Regardless of the outcome, Jim had introduced her to CAA's senior agent. "Where's Mr. Vijay?"
"Cesare left two hours ago. He had a lot of things to take care of," Jim replied. He glanced at Dave again, but this time without the hostility from earlier, instead carrying a hint of sympathy. "He said he had dinner plans with you?"
"Oh, yes. " Jenny suddenly understood why Jim felt sympathy for Dave. She quickly explained to Dave, "We're discussing contract matters, Dave. You know, not—not that kind of date."
As she spoke, she remembered the Hollywood Star. "Oh! Sorry, I need to make a call. I had work tonight, but now I'll have to ask them to find someone else to cover."
She walked to a nearby open area and dialed Hollywood Star, keeping a close eye on Jim and Dave, afraid they might clash again. Surprisingly, they were actually getting along quite well now. After chatting for a while, Jim even patted Dave on the shoulder, and Dave didn't brush it off—he returned it with a slightly bitter smile.
Once the call connected, she had no mind to observe others, busy apologizing to Old John. Johnny sighed repeatedly but didn't blame Jenny. He merely informed her yesterday's wages would be withheld and even graciously wished her well. "Whatever you're off to do, I wish you luck."
"Thanks, Old John," Jenny said sincerely. She hung up and walked over to the two men. "Now I need to take off my makeup, change clothes, and maybe take a shower—I'm covered in corn syrup."
"Go ahead," Jim said promptly. "I'll drive you to the restaurant. The timing should be perfect."
"Dave—" Jenny turned to Dave, who gave her a reassuring smile. His mood seemed much better now.
"I'll head back first," he said. "See you next time, Jenny."
"Hey." Jenny suddenly felt reluctant. She took a couple steps after Dave. "You'll come back to Hollywood Star for dessert, right?"
Dave looked at her, a bit surprised, then suddenly broke into a smile. "Yes, I'll be back. Don't worry. I have your number, remember?"
"I remember," Jenny said, smiling back. She gestured to her ear. "If you need anything, just—"
"Call you/Call me." They said it together, then laughed. Dave urged her, "Go on, don't be late. Cesare values punctuality."
"Even you know about him?" Jenny was surprised.
Dave shrugged. "Hollywood's a small town. Everyone knows everyone. Go on. This is a really great opportunity. Lynch and I both believe in you. You'll land this contract."
Jenny knew she shouldn't linger. She gave Dave a hurried smile, turned, and dashed toward the dressing room, with Jim following close behind.
Her scenes were wrapped, but others weren't. The makeup room was still crowded with extras who'd had special effects makeup applied, now lining up to have it removed. Seeing the queue, Jenny considered doing it herself, but Jim stepped in. He spoke briefly with the makeup artist, then ushered Jenny forward. "No time to wait. Get this off first."
Jenny mainly had a bruise effect on her shoulder that she couldn't wash off herself. Of course, this was quicker than the extras with full-body wounds, but regardless, there was always a queue. Who knew where these extras might be heading after wrapping? Jenny felt a pang of discomfort. Yet whether it was Jim, the makeup artist, or even the actors who had been waiting in line, they all acted as if this was perfectly natural.
Truthfully, it wasn't unusual. The thing was, she'd always mentally placed herself in the extra category. Now, just because she was connected to Cesare, she suddenly received special treatment. It felt like she was riding someone else's coattails. —That's how resentment breeds. If she didn't make it big, today's events would likely become someone else's laughingstock.
Having already agreed, refusing Jim now would seem petty. Jenny said nothing, letting the makeup artist quickly remove her makeup. She changed clothes without applying any makeup, emerging in a T-shirt and jeans. Jim looked at her in disbelief. "Honey, don't you have anything else to wear?" "
"Yes, but there's no time," Jenny replied. "What time did Cesare say? Seven? It's already half past six. I doubt he's the type to tolerate tardiness or rescheduling."
Jim sighed in exasperation. "Seven, but Cesare booked Mastro. You need formal attire to get in there."
"Then he'll just have to wait." "That's his problem, isn't it? Unless I can fly, how am I supposed to wrap at six, remove my makeup, and then show up in formal attire at an Italian restaurant by seven?"
"No, it's my fault." Jim slammed his fist on the steering wheel. "I stood there like an idiot all afternoon—I should have prepared a gown for you, or borrowed one from wardrobe! What was I thinking?"
"Yeah, I don't know what you were thinking either." Now that she mentioned it, Jenny agreed Jim hadn't been very sharp—no wonder Cesare called him practically an idiot. In this business, everything hinged on people. If you weren't quick on your feet, there was no saving you. "Let me see... we still have 25 minutes..."
She glanced down at her own T-shirt. Exhausted from last night, she'd grabbed a large men's T-shirt—the kind she usually wore as pajamas—and rushed out. Paired with skinny jeans that weren't quite trendy yet, this outfit would get her kicked out of any decent restaurant. She wasn't wearing heels either, just a pair of flat loafers. though thankfully the pattern was somewhat formal.
"Just drive straight to the restaurant," she decided. "Don't look at me."
But Jim kept glancing at Jenny while driving—because Jenny was unabashedly sitting in the passenger seat with her arms out of her shirt, pulling the T-shirt up to her armpits.
"Got any pins in the car?" Jenny asked. "Stop staring at me and focus on driving. You wanna cause an accident?"
"Uh... yeah," Jim snapped back to reality, stammering. "Right in the compartment in front of you. Look for it."
Jenny wrapped both sleeves tightly around her chest before tucking them into her shirt. She pinned them under her arms with the safety pin, instantly transforming the oversized T-shirt into a stylish off-the-shoulder evening gown. Finally, she slipped off her underwear, using her skirt for cover to avoid any wardrobe malfunctions, then removed her pants. She let her hair down, paired it with flat shoes and a small handbag, she looked almost entirely like a glamorous fashionista.
"All set." She tossed her underwear and pants onto the backseat, half-joking. "You owe me one—not just for saving you from getting yelled at, but also because—"
She waved her hand beneath the steering wheel. Jim swallowed hard, awkwardly shaking his head and closing his legs to hide a slight reaction between them.
"Whoa," he said, turning onto a side road. "Alright, fine. I owe you one."
Silence fell in the car for a moment before Jim spoke up. "Wait, hold on. If we're keeping score, what about me introducing you to Cesare?"
"Wasn't that part of your job?" Jenny countered. "You should be patting yourself on the back for that, Mr. Vijay."
She was half-joking, so Jim didn't get angry. He just rolled his eyes and parked in front of a commercial building. "We're here. The restaurant is on the sixteenth floor. You go up on your own. Just mention Cesare's name."
"Aren't you coming?" Jenny asked.
Jim shook his head. Jenny couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him—he was the agent, yet his job seemed more like Cesare's assistant.
"No need to pity me," Jim observed. "If you want to get an ulcer fast, the quickest way is to dine with Cesare. Good luck."
The last remark carried genuine sincerity. Jenny glared at him for a moment, shook her head, and silently stepped out of the car, hurrying into the lobby.
The waitress at Mastro seemed somewhat skeptical of Jenny's skirt but said nothing. When she led Jenny to a window-side table for two, Jenny's heart skipped a beat—this didn't bode well.
Cesare was already seated, studying the menu. He must have been there for some time. Hearing footsteps approach, he glanced at his watch.
"7:05," he said, lifting his head to meet Jenny's gaze. "You're late, Jenny Jefferson."
Jenny would never resort to Jim's apology tactics. She flashed a smile at the waitress and settled into her seat with her assistance. "I must say, Mr. Verger, you're giving me less and less confidence."
Cesare tilted his head slightly, gesturing for Jenny to continue.
"I assume you invited me to dinner because you've already approved of my acting." Jenny opened the menu, but her eyes remained fixed on Cesare. "This dinner is your chance to demonstrate what makes you exceptional as an agent—why I should choose you to represent me."
She smiled. "According to the shooting schedule, I wrapped at 6 PM. Driving from Beverly Hills to here during rush hour takes at least forty minutes. I don't fly, Mr. Vigerie, and my makeup doesn't remove itself. You're very punctual, Mr. Vigerie. Tell me, how could a competent agent schedule two appointments so tightly back-to-back?"
Their eyes met above the gold-embossed menu, the air suddenly thick with tension. Cesare remained expressionless, his gaze cold, while Jenny smiled, refusing to back down. The standoff was set.