Chapter 5
Justin pushed open the door to the guest quarters of Brett Keller's home at seven twenty and threw his messenger bag and jacket onto the nearest piece of furniture.
He was upset, angry, pissed! Months of laborious, sometimes painful, hard work was wasted on a movie that was now scrapped. He'd spent all these months away from home and Brian for nothing. He could have saved himself the anguish of this afternoon's depressing announcement and just stayed in Pittsburgh.
He slumped down on the sofa, laying his arm over his face. He stayed that way for about twenty minutes, then realising that allowing depression and pity wouldn't help, he got up and went to shower.
It had been a long day having started work at six-thirty that morning. He'd worked solidly for almost four hours before his hand had given out, so he'd taken a break and grabbed something to eat. He'd tried to massage his hand the way Brian does, but it was never the same. Brian had a definite technique in relieving the cramps in his hand. Justin had then worked another few hours before having to take another break.
Then the gut-wrenching announcement from Brett Keller came at just after five.
Once Justin packed up his things, he'd gone and said good-bye to some of the people who had been so nice to him during his time there. It had taken a while and he'd finally left the studio just before seven. Brett Keller's house was a relatively short cab ride away from the studio, hence getting back there not long after seven.
He'd slipped into track pants and was towelling off his hair when there was a knock at the door. Justin didn't hurry to answer, thinking it was probably Brett Keller bragging again about his next wonderful new plan or project.
The person knocked again, this time a little louder. Letting out a loud sigh, Justin trudged to the door and pulled it open.
“What?” he demanded of the man standing there.
“Mr Taylor?” the man inquired.
“Yes. What do you want?” Justin asked abruptly. He really wasn't in the mood for conversation.
“Sir, I've been sent to bring you to my employer. I have a car waiting.”
“Excuse me?”
“Exactly as I said, sir. My employer would like a meeting with you this evening. It is beneficial to your future.”
“Really? And who is this employer?” Justin asked, his interest piqued.
“He's a rather private person, sir.” The driver was following the script perfectly. “He would prefer to discuss everything with you in person. I have to insist you accompany me as he's expecting you by eight-thirty.”
Justin looked somewhat stunned. “I'm to just believe what you're telling me, get in a car with you and go God knows where?” Justin shook his head. “Forget it. I'm not interested.”
“He thought you might be of that opinion. But my instructions were very clear. I am to bring you to the hotel by eight-thirty.”
“Hotel?” Justin made a move to close the door.
“Mr Taylor, please, I'm actually employed by a limousine service,” the man pleaded. “I was told to follow these specific instructions and deliver you to the hotel. That's all I know.”
Justin stopped and looked at the man before him. “And I'm to trust you and this 'employer' that this is a legitimate meeting? Totally out of the blue?” Justin sighed deeply. “Whatever. I didn't have anything else planned. OK, wait here, I'll get dressed.”
Justin somehow sensed the man was being genuine. Besides, he really didn't have any plans. In fact, he was probably going to spend the night figuring out what he would be doing with his future, now the movie project was cancelled.
He searched out some decent clothes instead of his usual cargo pants and sweatshirt, tidied his now almost dry hair, checked his wallet had sufficient funds to enable him to get a cab home again. He grabbed a jacket from the closet and joined the driver who was still waiting near the door.
“OK,” Justin said hesitantly. “Let's go see this mysterious employer.”