Chasing Chaos: A Novel Read Free Page A

met Daphne’s eyes, Daphne was surprised to see a familiar ambition
there. The same ambition drove Daphne herself. Carrie was one of only two
non-white servers at Rivet—and the only black woman. Rivet was a place where
you could serve a BLT to a former senior production assistant at Sony-turned
successful freelance screenwriter—to Daphne—and maybe get a leg up. Rivet was one
of the film industry’s golden gates. Daphne knew this well. She’d once come
here regularly on the arm of its former owner, hoping for a leg up herself.
    She’d
never gotten one.
    When
Daphne had explained Rivet’s role in the film industry to Greta, Greta had
taken over hiring.
    “I’m
working on a few things,” Carrie said.
    Daphne
handed Carrie her card. Daphne’s cards didn’t have Sony printed on them any
more. Now they just provided Daphne’s name and email address. Carrie took it
and tucked it in her pocket without looking at it.
    “You
free tomorrow morning for coffee?” Daphne asked.
    “My
shift ends pretty late tonight,” Carrie said.
    “How
about lunchtime?”
    Carrie
nodded. “That’ll work.”
    “You
know Uptown Coffee on San Vicente, near Montana?”
    “Sure.”
    “I’ll
be there starting early. Come when you get hungry.” Daphne nodded at the pocket
holding her card. “Send me an email if you need to change plans.”
    “They
let you work at Uptown Coffee?”
    Daphne
laughed. “I buy a lot of coffee.”
    Carrie
tried to hide her skeptical expression. “I’ll be back with your drinks.” She
headed off purposefully.
    “I
would say that was nice of you,” Greta said, “except you don’t do things like
that just to be nice.”
    “I
like her.”
    Greta
nodded, waiting for the complete explanation.
    “She
reminds me of me.”
    Daphne
knew how much of herself she’d nearly lost to be where she was today. She
didn’t want another woman to have to make the kind of choices she’d made. Not
when she could give her the path that anyone should have, no matter where she
came from or what she looked like.
    No
matter what she’d suffered.
    So
she would have coffee with Carrie tomorrow, and if Carrie’s ideas were
promising, she would introduce Carrie to her agent. She could do that much for
the girl.
    “I
have news,” Greta said. “Timmy asked me to marry him.”
    “Again
with the marriage proposal?” Daphne laughed.
    “It’s
been a while,” Greta said. “He used to ask every time we did payroll. Lately
he’s been keeping it to once a quarter, when we do the taxes for Pac Lighting
and Rivet.”
    In
addition to being partial owners of Rivet, Greta and her boyfriend, Timmy,
owned an event production company, Pacific Production Lighting. They produced
live events at the convention center and hotel ballrooms, and also helped
provide gear for theaters, music video productions and smaller film
productions.
    “When
it gets really late at night and the numbers run together, he proposes,” Greta
said.
    “What’d
he use this time?” Daphne asked.
    Greta
held up her fisted hand, thumb pressed tight against her fingers, ready to
throw a worthy punch. “A ring.”
    Daphne
paused, examining the shining thing on Greta’s finger. Timmy had never used a
ring before. Over the past few years he’d proposed with a spoon (saying she’d
never go hungry), a new moving light for their company (because Greta shined so
brightly), and a bottle of George Dickel Number Twelve (Greta’s favorite). But
never a ring.
    “I
said yes,” Greta said. “I was thinking we’d get married this afternoon
downtown. His uncle can be the witness, since he’s already in the building, and
you, if you’re free.”
    Timmy’s
uncle Brian was a Los Angeles city councilman.
    “You
said yes?”
    “Will
you come? Maybe around four o’clock? They stop doing weddings at five on
Sundays.”
    “You’re
not getting married at City Hall.”
    “Timmy
doesn’t mind.”
    “Of
course Timmy doesn’t mind!” Daphne snorted. “You said yes!