Falling from Grace

As Britt approached the office she saw through the window that the same desk clerk was there. She opened the door and the clerk put down his phone.

"Can I help you?" he asked as his eyes examined Britt from head to toe. His memory wasn't faulty. She was one of the most attractive women he had ever met. He recalled from her registration form that her name was Brittany.

"I was looking for a diner within walking distance. Is there one?"

The clerk looked at his watch. It was almost 6 a.m. "Well Brittany, there are actually two choices. If you leave the parking lot and walk to the left there's a pancake house that should be open in a couple minutes. If you go to the right there's an all-night diner.

"Call me Britt," she said, extending her hand to shake his. "What would you recommend?"

"I'm Dade, and I'd recommend the diner. It's got a solid breakfast menu and the prices are reasonable." A flash of courage overcame him. "I get off work at 6. Can I take you there? My treat."

Britt looked at the clerk more carefully. He looked to be about her age, and he was tall and fairly good looking. He had puppy dog eyes that she had seen many times before. She realized the magnetism she had in Poplar Bluff also worked in Los Angeles. She wouldn't have any problems attracting attention from the opposite sex. He seemed harmless, and she did need a friend.

"Sure ... that would be great." Britt couldn't help but flash a smile that melted his heart.

His eyes lit up. He couldn't believe his good fortune that he was going out (even if it was just a diner breakfast) with a beautiful blonde.

"I'll go back to my room and wait until you're ready," she said as she turned around to leave the office. Dade was already busy tidying up the front counter.

Britt went back to her room and turned on the television. The news story was about a warehouse fire in some city she had never heard of. The same stuff makes the news in California, she thought, as she heard a knock on her door. She turned off the television and opened the door.

"Hey Dade. Ready to go?"

"Yep, my shift replacement just showed up. Let's go."

Britt grabbed a wrap, shut the door behind her, and followed him out of the parking lot. There was already a fair amount of traffic on the road as they walked down the sidewalk. She spotted the diner on the other side of the street. They stopped at a crosswalk.

"Make sure you cross the street at a crosswalk. In California, they're supposed to yield to pedestrians but you've gotta make eye contact with the driver. Don't trust them, as everyone's in a hurry." Dade watched the flow of traffic and started to cross. The cars in both directions slowed to a stop as they scurried across the street.

They entered the diner, which was already busy. Dade found a booth in the back and the waitress showed up with two menus.

"The cinnamon rolls are great. They bake them fresh every morning," observed Dade. He was already thinking about a hot roll and a cup of coffee.

Britt scanned the menu. Eggs and bacon sounded great. She realized she was hungry. She ordered a full breakfast and Dade added a full order of cinnamon rolls. She wolfed down the breakfast and then attacked the cinnamon rolls. They were gooey and sweet, just the way she liked them. Dade watched with amusement as the shapely blonde ate a meal fit for a large man. He had been on a few dates with attractive women and was always a bit offended at how they picked at their expensive dinners. This woman had a hearty appetite and wasn't ashamed of it. He was hoping that somehow she'd see something in him.

As Britt was mopping up the icing on the plate with the last of her cinnamon roll, she asked for badly needed advice. "Dade, I don't know anyone in town. Do you know anyone who could help me find an agent?"

Dade thought for a moment as he took a sip of coffee and ate a hunk of his second cinnamon roll. "My sister Shannon works at a studio. She briefly pursued a career in singing and dancing. Maybe she knows somebody. Did you want to talk to her?"

Britt was excited to hear that she might have a lead. "Sure. Can you give me her phone number?"

They exchanged phone numbers so that Dade had Britt's as well. Dade paid the bill and they walked back to the motel. Dade went to his car that was parked in the back of the parking lot. Britt followed and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Thank you for the breakfast and thank you for helping me," she said as she gave his arm a squeeze.

"I was happy to do it," he said with sincerity. "Maybe dinner next time?" he asked, hopefully.

Britt was grateful, but didn't want to string him along. "Maybe. Let's just see how it goes."

Dade realized that Britt might be a bridge too far. He kissed her again on the cheek. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever met."

Britt blushed, and then waved goodbye as she went back to her room.

Chapter Six

Shannon

Britt and Shannon exchanged texts and agreed to meet during Shannon's lunch hour. Britt made the half hour drive through mid-day traffic and they met at a local Starbucks. Shannon was there already at a small table nursing a latte when Britt walked in. Shannon recognized her from the photo Britt had texted, but was nevertheless still stunned by her beauty. She waved and Britt's face lit up at seeing her new friend.

"Hey Britt!" cried Shannon as the blonde approached her. Shannon stood up.

"Pleased to meet you Shannon." Britt extended her hand and the two women shook. Britt studied Shannon, noting her dancer's body, tall and lean, with long legs. She had short, dark hair, with piercing hazel colored eyes. "Thank you so much for meeting with me."

"It's my pleasure. Dade told me you were the most beautiful woman he's ever met. I've got to say that I agree."

Britt blushed. "Thank you. You're too kind. Did you have a career in dance?"

"I did. I was in a national tour of Chicago but had a foot injury that ended my career. I work now at Warner in the front office as a production assistant and whatever they want me to do in the front office."

"A national tour sounds exciting. How did you get into the business?"

"I went to the Ailey School at Fordham and was able to try out in New York."

"I'm looking for an agent in Los Angeles. I'd like to get into feature films."

"Do you have a resume?"

"I do." Britt went into her purse and pulled out a folded resume, handing it across the table to Shannon.

The brunette studied the resume and thought carefully about her response to the question that she knew would follow.

"So what do you think?" asked Britt, apprehensively.

Shannon hesitated. "Britt, truthfully your regional theater experience would be valuable in Missouri but it's going to be difficult to get in the door with feature length movies. You might want to try to get into commercials and build up your local experience."

Britt was afraid of Shannon's answer. It was a bitter pill given the small amount of money she had saved. She had at most enough money to make it a few more months. She was hesitant to ask her mother for more, given her limited budget. "I appreciate your honesty. Do you happen to know the name of an agent I might speak with?"

"I only know people associated with dance. Of course I can get you a name. I've got a number of friends in the business that I can ask. I'll text you with a name and a number."

"I really appreciate it. Another question. Do you know of a room I can rent? As you know, I'm staying in a motel right now and that's not a long term solution."

"Funny you should ask. My roommate just got a gig in New York and will be out of town for the next four months. She's looking to sublet the room and hasn't even listed it yet."

"Great. Text me her information as well."

"One last thing," said Shannon. "My brother has a crush on you."

"I know," replied the blonde. "I know the look. He's got it."

"You must know the effect you have on men."

"I'll let him down easy. He's a good kid and his heart's in the right place. But he's not the one for me."

Britt got a cup of coffee and the women talked for another fifteen minutes until Shannon's lunch hour was about over. They hugged and went their separate ways.

Britt went into the parking lot, retrieved her car, and started driving back to the motel. On the way back the red warning light went on and steam started coming out of the hood. Britt cursed and pulled the car over to the side of the road. She called her road service and the car was towed to a nearby garage. She waited until the mechanic came to visit with her.

"I'm sorry Miss," he said. "It's a bad water pump."

"What does that mean?"

"It means we'll need your car for a couple of days, and it'll be about $1,100."

Britt was crestfallen. That would deplete a good part of her savings. "What could I get for my car as is?"

"Let me check with my boss. We're always interested in buying cars in any condition." He stepped away and returned minutes later. "We can give you $1,500."

Britt thought about it. The $1,500 could buy her at least another month in L.A. She could use a ride share service to get around. Fixing the car would deplete her savings and would leave her with only a few more weeks of money.

"Done. I'll bring the title over tomorrow. Can you pay me in cash?"

"That shouldn't be a problem."

Chapter Seven

Mort

Britt went the next day to the car repair shop with title in hand. She took one last look at the car she had since she was sixteen, recalling all of the good memories in it, and wondered again if she did the right thing in coming to Los Angeles to pursue her dream. But in for a penny, in for a pound. She had already committed all of her resources to the endeavor, so she felt she really didn't have a decision to make. She patted the steering wheel one last time, shut the driver side door, and didn't look back. As promised, she walked away with fifteen crisp new one hundred dollar bills.

The rideshare to the motel was truly a bittersweet experience. She now had enough money to last her at least another month, but she had said goodbye to one of the few friends she had in California. She went into her room and checked her phone. Shannon had already texted her the number of her roommate and an agent. She first texted Shannon's roommate Robin, and then the agent. Robin was the first to reply, setting up an appointment in the apartment later that day. Britt pulled out one of her nicer outfits and ironed it on the flimsy motel ironing board, worried that the gummy iron would mar her cotton blouse. She ironed it inside out to make sure there'd be no marks on the front of the blouse, and carefully applied her make-up. She needed this sublet, as the price was right and the daily cost of the motel was draining her already meager resources.

Britt was pleased at the efficiency of the ride share service and arrived at the apartment early. She used the extra time to walk around the neighborhood, noting that there were plenty of restaurants and other services within walking distance. But there was a California flair. Palm trees dotted the wide boulevard and were a plethora of foreign sedans and convertibles. Skate boarders were cruising down the sidewalks. She walked into the garden style apartment complex and climbed the open concrete stairs to the second floor.

"Hey Britt," said Shannon, stepping out of the apartment. "Come on in. I'll get Robin." She ushered Britt to the living room sofa. The apartment was neat and clean, and the furniture was a grade above the rent to own furniture that Britt was expecting. Robin was the opposite of Shannon in build, short and stocky, with shoulder length dark hair and large breasts jutting out from her t-shirt.

"Hi Britt. Pleased to meet you," said Robin, unexpectedly hugging her instead of shaking hands. "Shannon told me you were beautiful, but wow." She gave Britt an extra squeeze. "So you want to sublet the apartment?"

"I'm really interested."

"Well, as we discussed, the rent's $550 a month plus your share of the utilities. I'm going to leave some of my stuff in the closet if that's all right. I'll also leave you a bunch of food that you're welcome to have. I've got a job stage managing a show in New York and I plan to be back in four months. Does that work for you?"

"Sounds good. Can I see the room?"

"Sure ... sure." Robin led Britt to a nicely furnished room with a double bed, a dresser and a large closet. Robin pointed out the boxes and a few clothes on hangers that she was leaving behind.

"So when can I move in?"

"Tomorrow. This works out great for me. Now I'll be able to get to New York early so I can get a jump on my new job. Does that work for you?"

"Yes." Britt was excited to be getting out of the motel and into a real living arrangement.

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow. You can give me the first month's rent when I see you and then you can pay Shannon directly after that."

Britt left the room and found Shannon sitting at the kitchen table. "Thanks for introducing me to Robin. I sent a text to the agent you forwarded to me. I haven't heard back from him yet."

"Don't hold your breath. I'm sure he's busy and he doesn't know you. I'd just camp out in his office until he has time to see you."

"Thanks. I'll do that. I need to get back to the apartment and pack. Tomorrow at what time?"

"I'd get here at 8. I usually leave for work around 8:15 so it would be good for me to see you before I leave."

They hugged, and Britt left thinking that it was the first truly good thing that had happened to her in California.

The next day Britt moved in and then went directly to the agent's office in West Hollywood. It was a nondescript office building a few blocks off the main drag, and the waiting room looked like a dentist's office, with magazines that were at least a year old. Britt picked up an old People magazine and started flipping through it. She made it through four more before the receptionist poked her head into the waiting room and said, "Ms. Larsen? Mr. Weinberg will see you now."

Britt was ushered into an office cluttered with papers. The venetian blinds were in sore need of a dusting and there was a half-eaten donut sitting on top of one of the stacks of paper. The man was still on the phone and didn't look Britt's way as she took a seat. He droned on for a few more minutes and then replaced the handset on the cradle and pivoted his desk chair to face Britt. Even for a wizened man like Morton Weinberg, Britt's freshly scrubbed Midwestern beauty made him take notice.

He picked up Britt's resume and read it, nodding his head as if it was speaking to him. He looked up, expecting Britt to start the conversation. The young blonde was caught a bit flat-footed.

"Uhh ... thank you for seeing me Mr. Weinberg," Britt stammered.

"My pleasure, young lady, and call me Mort. What can I do for you?"

"I'd like to be an actress."

Mort broke into a broad smile. "Of course you do. Fresh from Missouri are you?"

"Yes," she replied, somewhat sheepishly. "My drama teacher and Julie McCullough said I should go to Hollywood. Do you know Julie McCullough?"

Mort gave her a blank stare.

"Growing Pains?"

Recognition broke across his face. "Yes ... yes ... eighties. Pretty blonde like you."

"That's right."

"So ... do you think you can help me?"

"Do you have any experience? I mean real experience?"

"Only what's on the resume you have."

"You seem like a nice girl. Do you want some advice from me?"

"Uhhh ... sure."

"Go back to Poplar Bluff. Maybe you can get a gig at the local television station. You're a good looking girl but you haven't got the resume to find what you're looking for here."

"What do you mean by real experience?"

"Commercials ... a well-known college drama program ... Broadway ... something like that."

"Are there open tryouts?"

"Sure ... sure there are. You can give that a shot but you'll be competing against dozens of other girls."

"I can't go home yet. Isn't there anyone else I can talk to?" There was a bit of desperation in her voice.

Mort looked at his computer screen, scanning the names on his contact list. "Look. I don't know this guy. He makes low budget horror movies and God knows what else. I'd be careful with him and I'm not recommending that you go there but he's the only guy I know that would even consider hiring someone that doesn't have any local experience." He wrote the name and phone number down on a piece of paper and handed it to her.

"Thank you Mort."

"Don't thank me. Take my advice and go back to Poplar Bluff."

Britt went back to the apartment, discouraged but not defeated. Shannon was already home from work. "So how did it go?"

"Well, after waiting for two hours he told me to go back to Poplar Bluff."

"I was afraid of that. I kind of told you at Starbucks."

"Well, I came all this way. I'm going to try the open casting calls and see if I get lucky."

Britt did try. She went to at least a dozen open casting calls, even making the first cut at one of them that was for a car commercial. It was exciting for her to actually be on a set, but that excitement soon faded in the monotony of waiting endless hours for the chance to talk for less than a minute. After one particularly long day she was taking a bath and reading a trashy novel. The bathroom door suddenly swung open and a strange woman was standing in the doorway.

"I'm so sorry!" the woman exclaimed as she left and shut the door behind her. Britt was naturally startled, and stepped out of the bath and dried herself. The woman didn't appear to be particularly threatening so Britt didn't feel any urgency to hurry. She went to her bedroom and dressed, then went to the kitchen where she found an attractive woman seated at the kitchen table eating a granola bar and drinking a glass of milk. The woman, well dressed with perfectly coiffed red hair, stood up and introduced herself.

"So sorry about the awkward introduction. I knew that Shannon was still at work and that Robin was in New York. I wasn't expecting anyone to be in the bathroom. I'm Sheila, Shannon's ex."

Britt was slightly taken aback, processing what she had heard. "Do you mean Shannon's ... uh ... ex-wife?"

Sheila laughed. "No ... just Shannon's ex live-in girlfriend."

"Oh ... I see," said Britt, realizing that Shannon was a lesbian.

"And you are ..." asked Sheila.

"Britt. I'm subletting Robin's room while she's in New York."

"Aha. Mystery solved. Again, I do apologize for interrupting your bath."

"That's all right. I was about done. The water was already getting cold. I was just finishing my book." She held it up.

"Ahhhh. 'Pirate's Plunder' ... I'm sure it was compelling reading," said Sheila, noting the cover photo of a bare shouldered woman being held by a pirate.

Britt chuckled. "Sometimes I need to give my brain a break and read a romance novel."

Sheila leaned forward. Britt could see the tops of Sheila's snow white breasts. "I'm sorry to be so forward, but you're lovely and I'm single right now. You wouldn't happen to be available for dinner. No strings attached ... my treat?"

"I'd love to, but I have to tell you that I'm not into women."

Sheila laughed again. "No worries there. A good dinner companion is all I seek. But if you were a lesbian I'd certainly be interested in more. Let me gather up the few things that I left here and shall we go, in say, ten minutes?"

Sheila drove Britt to a fashionable restaurant in Santa Monica in a late model German sedan. Britt was glad that she wore her nicest outfit, which was still a level below what everyone else in the restaurant was wearing. Sheila could see Britt's difficulty in navigating the French menu and made a few suggestions. As they ordered and then ate their dinner Britt spun out her life story, starting with Grace, then Colin and finally ending up with Shannon. Sheila ordered a Bordeaux to go with their entrees, Sheila ordering a filet and Britt the rack of lamb.