For the Love of Money (59 page)

I just smiled. I asked, “So what about the business side?”

Susan paused. “I'll have to sit down and come up with something really creative. This is your first film, and you don't want to walk into it too cheaply, but since we're all thinking low-budget here, we can't ask for the cow either.”

“As long as we get more than a pig,” I joked.

Susan smiled. “Oh, we won't get a pig, I can assure you of that. We want
at least a big, clean turkey, with plenty of leftovers. That's the key to
this
deal, leftovers.”

I asked, “Leftovers meaning what?”

“Back-end residuals. Don't you get a royalty payment on your books?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, that's what we want to focus on here,” she told me, “gross points from the studio. So if the movie does well at the box office, even if they only paid you five hundred thousand to star in it, you can make some real money through the back-end points. That's the advantage of going with smaller studios. They have to bend over backward sometimes to stay in the hunt for good projects.”

I nodded. Residuals sounded rather complicated and legal to me, and I didn't have Yolanda on my side anymore to look over the paperwork.

“Do you have a lawyer to make sure that we don't get screwed here,” I asked Susan jokingly.

She looked at me and asked, “I thought you had a lawyer already?”

“I did, but now I don't.”

Susan said, “I don't really secure contracts on my own, that's what the agency is for, to make sure we cover each other's backs. We have plenty of lawyers who go through the contract before you even see it.”

I looked and said, “So, in other words, I was paying my lawyer for nothing.”

Susan paused. “Well, I wouldn't say that, because it's pretty smart to have checks and balances wherever you can. Not saying that I would do anything to harm you, but we could
both
miss something. And I'm just being honest with that.”

I nodded. In other words, I needed to get another damn lawyer just in case.

$   $   $

Susan came up with a deal that would split a million dollars between my screenplay and my starring in the film, but the butter on the biscuit was the gross points. She was going to ask for ten percent on the strength of how much I would be involved in production. Included in that were rights for cable, network, and video sales, as well as foreign rights if we were ever able to cross overseas with the film. So if we made a measly ten million dollars alone, I would have another million coming
before
we even went to cable, network, or video. As long as the movie continued to sell, in
any
capacity, I would have checks written out in my name for it.

I thought about all of that and said, “Damn!” I still hadn't hooked up
with a new lawyer yet. I was itching to call Yolanda back to tell you the truth, but I didn't want to be the one who took the first step to mending our soiled relationship, because I was not the one with the big ego who had ended it. So I got Kendra in on the deal to call Yolanda up as a peacemaker and let her know how disappointed I was that we had split, because it was still a black sister thing that we needed to work out and keep together.

In the meantime, Jonathan Abner called me with ideas for directors. He mentioned a young Latin guy named Poncho Morales, who he had been interested in for a while, and several other young, and relatively cheap directors. I had watched a couple of music videos directed by Poncho myself, and I liked the images that he brought across the camera. His pacing was right on, and he never went overboard with close-ups or color filters. His camera work looked lively, but still human, and very easy on the eyes. Other directors with music video history got too caught up with the tricks of the camera and ended up creating long flashy videos instead of stable films. I didn't want that tricky camera shit in
my
movie.
I
wanted to be the one doing the tricks!

However, Jonathan hadn't made up his mind on who to go with, and I was getting tired of all the damn talk and no action, so I tracked down Poncho Morales myself. He was shooting on a set at Redondo Beach for a five-member, white-boy pop group. It seemed like white-boy singing groups were popping up everywhere, New Kids on the Block all over again.

“Excuse me, this is a restricted area,” I was told by a blonde production assistant. I had already slipped by the security men.

I put on my little Puerto Rican accent and said, “Jus' tell Eddie his cousin is hea' to see 'im from New Yawk.” (I had done some research on Poncho. He was from Spanish Harlem and his first name was Eduardo. He was inspired as a kid to pursue a career in Hollywood because of the television show
CHiPs.)

Since the production assistant was white, I felt safe with my Puerto Rican accent, but had she been a Latina, I wouldn't even have tried that shit. Some fast Spanish would have busted my groove with the quickness, but this white girl didn't know what the hell was going on.

“Oh, well, what's your name?” she asked me.

“Nina.”

“Okay, well, I'll get his attention for you as soon as I can.”

I was close enough to see Poncho, but I didn't want to yell anything out at him on account that he didn't know who the hell I was. I had to get close enough to him to hand him a fresh copy of my script and explain my game plan to him.

Poncho began to make a move toward his small trailer with no security surrounding him, and I stepped right past the PA and made my move.

“Wait a minute,” she complained, trying to block me.

I pushed her out of my way and said real fast, “Look, I don't have any time for this. He know's I'm hea' already.” I actually made it to the director's trailer and let myself in. Talk about being
pressed
!

Poncho looked at me while zipping up his pants from his private restroom and said, “Who the hell are you?” He was olive-toned, with deep, dark eyes, dark hair, and built like a swimmer, slim but muscular. He was gorgeous!

I said, “I'm your best opportunity to make a name for yourself in Hollywood films,” and handed him a copy of my screenplay.

He looked at the title and nodded. He said, “This is pretty good, I've read some of it.”

“Why not direct it then?” I asked him.

He shook his head and said, “Not enough money. If they're only offering me three hundred thousand, I'll just keep doing videos; they're a lot less work for about the same amount of money.” He was already heading back out the door.

“What if I could get you more?”

The PA barged in and said, “I tried to stop her.”

Poncho waved her off and showed her back out. He asked me, “Who's starring in it?”

I smiled at him. “I am.”

He paused, and studied me as if he was sizing me up for the camera. He asked, “How much more could you get me?”

I blurted out, “How about five hundred thousand?” I was willing to pay him the extra two hundred thousand myself if I had to. I just wanted to get the film rolling.

He said, “They're not gonna give me that. I've already talked to those people. I don't think they respect me that much. That's why I can't do your movie.”

“Who's your agent?”

He looked at me and frowned. “Why?” He was interested, he just needed me to convince him and show him the money. He was standing his professional ground, and I respected that.

I said, “Sometimes your agent can be in the way. You get a more respected agent, and you get to push things through.”

“What if I don't have an agent?” he asked me.

The PA stuck her head back in the trailer and said, “Poncho, everyone is ready and waiting for you.”

He waved her off a second time for me. “I'll be there.”

I said, “If you don't have an agent, then that's your problem. You can end up doing videos for the rest of your life unless you get one.” I was bluffing, but it sounded good. Agents were getting more powerful as the Hollywood stakes continued to increase. I couldn't have gotten the bigger and better deals myself without Susan.

“Who is your agent?” Poncho asked me.

I smiled. “Now we're talking. You're reading my mind. Let's trade phone numbers and talk about it.”

He nodded and gave me one of his cards. I wrote my number down on the title page of the script.

“Poncho, this is gold. Don't lose it,” I told him of the screenplay
and
of my home phone number.

He smiled at me and said, “We'll see,” and we walked out together.

The PA looked at me with the nasty names all over her face. I just smiled at her.

“Thank you,” I told her.

“Yeah,” she said with a huff and rolled her eyes.

Poncho said, “We'll talk,” as he headed back to work.

“We sure will,” I told him.

I got back to my car and called Susan at her office from my brand-new cell phone. Once business started to get too hot and heavy, a cell phone became a necessity.

“Hey, what's going on?” she asked me. “I have a meeting with Wide Vision for early next week to go over the deal.”

I asked, “Have you ever heard of Eduardo ‘Poncho' Morales, the music video director?”

“Yeah, I've heard of him, but I don't know that much about him. I hear he's good.”

“And he's also without an agent.”

Susan paused. “Okay.”

“And Wide Vision wants to sign him.”

“All right.”

“But they're not offering him enough money.”

“Which is?”

“He wants five hundred thousand, but they're only offering him three hundred, and
I
want him.”

“Three hundred thousand?”
Susan responded. “Oh, they can do
much
better than that. They're not
that
small.”

“So, you'll do his deal then?” I asked her.

“I can't just take him on as a client, but I can try to include him as a package deal and see how that goes.”

“Whatever,” I told her, “and then you can see if you'll take him on after that.”

“I can't promise anything.”

But
I
can,
I told myself. If Susan couldn't get the deal done, I would just have to count eight hundred thousand for my purse instead of a million, so that I could pay Poncho and get the green light rolling forward.

Next I called Jonathan at his office to let
him
know what my plans were.

“Jonathan, this is Tracy.”

He was excited to hear from me. “Hey, Tracy, hold on a minute. Let me shake this other line.”

Who would have thought that I could have Hollywood players sweating me as hard as the boys in the 'hood. I smiled about that before Jonathan came back on the line.

“Yeah, Tracy, what can I do for you?”

I asked, “Once we get the deal signed and the director on board, we'll finally have the green light for this movie?”

“Hopefully, yeah,” he told me.

“Okay, well, I would like to work with Poncho Morales on this.”

“I would too, but he turned us down already.”

I said, “He didn't turn
me
down.”

“Oh, so, you know him?”

“I know him now.”

Jonathan paused. “Oh, really.”

I smiled and said, “I don't know him like that, so don't even think about it. I just dropped by his trailer a few minutes ago where he's shooting a video at Redondo Beach.”

“Good move. So, what did he say?”

I cut straight through the chase. “He said he wasn't offered enough.”

Jonathan responded, “Well, we
are
trying to keep this budget pretty low.”

“How low is low?”

“Under ten million.”

I said, “We can do that. You can get the writer, the lead star,
and
the director for under
two
million.”

He laughed and said, “And what are we going to pay everyone else?”

I joked, “They can eat cake,” and laughed. “No, I'm sure we can work it all out, I'm just ready to get this damn thing going, and Poncho is a good
guy, he just doesn't want to come out naked on this deal. He already told me he likes the script.”

Jonathan chuckled and said, “Well, you're just trying to do everything. Now you're jumping in on
my
job. I better get you this go-ahead before you end up replacing me.”

I said, “That's what I'm gonna have to do next, if you're planning on keeping me waiting. April is right around the corner, and I'd like to get this done
on time.
I'm a Virgo,” I tossed in there just for the hell of it.

“Oh yeah, well guess what other
Virgo
likes to stay on schedule?” he asked me.

“When's your birthday?”

“August twenty-seventh.”

“Get out of here! I'm September sixth.”

We just laughed with each other being silly.

Jonathan finally asked, “So, Tracy, when are we gonna go ahead and do lunch?”

I looked at the phone and shook my head. Those white producers wanted to fuck me something
bad!

I said, “Jonathan, the only thing that I'm hungry for right now is to make my damn film
Led Astray.
Now are we on the same page or what? Because I'm not fucking
anybody
until I can fuck the camera.”

Jonathan laughed and said, “Okay, okay. If you bring Poncho in and he agrees to everything, then we'll work out the deal. Now is there anything else that you want? Wow!”

I took a deep breath and answered, “A new damn car.” I was still driving my Toyota.

“Oh, you'll be able to take care of that,” he told me. “If you keep up this kind of urgency throughout your career, you'll end up driving red Lamborghinis.”