The Best Shot

“Don’t look so miserable, Lee.”

“That’s how I look when I need to write a review on a crappy movie like that!” I replied. “Queeny, don’t they have film schools anymore?”

Tonya Queen laughed at me, and I eyed her with a smirk. That’s how our date nights seemed to go lately. We follow a similar routine. I’d take her to a movie which I needed to review. Then we’d sit through something either atrocious or boringly the same. Tonight, I carried decent hope for yet another adaptation of The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari. It turned out to be an overly pretentious waste of time, which made me want to gag.

“It’ll gross enough to suit the boss,” she sparkled while locking her arm with mine.

Her other hand held her phone where she used her thumb to flip through an app with amazing speed. I paid little attention as we walked through the small lobby of the renovated art house cinema. The place kept the ambiance of the past, with art déco décor and red carpet. Despite our casual clothing, it wasn’t hard to make believe we were leaving a golden age film from seventy years ago.

“Well, making money is what art is all about,” I groused while pushing open the door. “Horror sells, even when you’ve got the junk actors trying to do Shakespeare. So, what do you expect this time?”

“Oh, it’ll do alright,” my date replied casually. “The margins are good since we’re not dealing with the green screen. Low budget means we’re probably close to fifty mil profit when we shake it out through distribution and streaming.”

My automatic nod at Queeny’s explanation came because I already knew she was a financial whiz kid. I let her ramble on because she really got into the numbers. After all, the executive producer of the film didn’t hire her to lose money on his media projects.

“So, it’s your turn to pick the next place,” I reminded Tonya.

“Oh, we’re invited to a party. I’ve already got us a ride.” She released my arm and pointed to a ride share car waiting for us.

“Anybody we know at this party?” My annoyance showed up in my tone.

Tonya chuckled at me as she waited. She eyed the back door of the car. With a sigh, I played the servant’s role and opened it.

“Thank you,” she smirked as she slid into the seat. “Also, there’s probably no one there you’ll like. But it’s free booze and food, so you’ll fit right in.”

After I slid in next to her, the woman gave the address to the driver.

“By the way, holding a door open for a woman is benevolent sexism now. Your friends won’t like it.” I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

“I’m still royalty, so they can deal with it.” Tonya stated with a smile.

We arrived at a mini mansion in the suburbs after following a winding path through the foothills. A dozen cars parked in the circular front driveway told us we were in front of the right house. I followed my date inside with mild trepidation. She knew I liked more intimate settings with our group of friends. However, her boss invited her to the party, so getting out of it was an impossible task. I got her to agree we could skip out early.

Aspy Cinder stood at the door when we arrived. No doubt because Queeny notified her already since my girlfriend seldom looked up from texting away on her phone. The woman at the door was short and overweight, but she held keen and cold green eyes. Her comfortable clothing of slacks and a blouse made her look more like a housewife than a major player in the film industry. She was one of the few producers in Georgia who could pull a profit out of the worst tripe they called movies. Aspy was also notorious for her ability to get inside information within the industry.

“You’re late!” she informed us with a hint of a Southern drawl and a smile.

“Blame him,” Queeny didn’t look up from her phone as she nodded to me. “I’m finishing the Murdock deal. He’ll be on your calendar for the fifteenth.”

“Don’t you let this girl stop working for me,” Aspy hugged me lightly.

“Please, she lives for this stuff.” I replied with a sigh.

“No doubt, she’s got a one-track mind. That girl knows how to make me money,” the producer agreed.

She hugged Tonya when she finished her text.

“Well, both of you are wrong,” Queeny replied. “So, where’s the food?”

“It’s in the kitchen, of course,” Aspy smirked as she pointed to the back. “We’ll talk later. I’ve got a couple of potential clients we need to line up for the next project.”

She left them and the couple wandered through the multiple groups. Tonya stopped several times to speak with those she knew while I looked on. When we finally made it to the kitchen, I grabbed a bottle of hard cider for both of us. Queeny insisted on a glass, so I made her kiss me on the cheek to act as her bartender.

“I thought I saw the resident critic come in.” the familiar, irritating voice caught our attention.

“Hey, J.J., I didn’t think Aspy allowed the cockroaches into her kitchen.” I sent a shot over the bow.

“Lee, you’re still an asshole without an amusing bone in your body,” James Earle Joyce said as he planted himself in front of Queeny.

“Dump this guy. He’ll only drag you down, honey!”

“It’s too late,” the woman smiled lightly, then winked at me. “Where’s Clarance?”

“Oh, he’s stumbling around. I should go find him since he’s been eying one waiter. He’s such a bitch in heat at these things, but that’s why I love him.” The man waved his hand in the air dismissively.

“Have you heard about Ulrich’s new project?”