“Yes! Yes! Yes! I’ll take it. Tell them I want it.”
The counselor told her the salary then, which was minimal but decent. “And there’s housing for Mr. Quist’s assistants. You’d get a room in whatever accommodation they have, not the best one obviously, but at least you won’t have to pay for it. Everything else you pay yourself, airfare, meals, car rental, expenses, etc.” It was a much better deal than she’d had the year before, and she loved Hamish Quist’s movies. He was a major British producer/director.
“I’ve seen all his movies,” she blurted out. “Tell them I want the job.”
“They’re waiting for you. They won’t give it to anyone else until we give them your answer. And, Antonia, I’m really happy for you. I think this is your reward for sticking it out last year, even if you didn’t like it. Sometimes that happens, you do the right thing and the reward comes later.” Antonia was beaming as she floated out of her office. She called Jake from the nearest payphone and told him immediately. He was impressed too, and thought she deserved it. She worked harder than anyone he knew.
“Hamish Quist is big stuff,” he said, and Antonia knew it. “Can you get me a starring role maybe?” he teased her, and she laughed.
“Yes, if he lets me write the screenplay!” They both knew that neither of those things was going to happen. She’d be lucky if she even got to talk to the famous director. More likely she’d be picking up his dry cleaning.
“You’re a glutton for punishment going back to that studio,” Jake commented.
“It was just a crap low-level job, with no pay and terrible weather. It wasn’t all their fault.”
“And you nearly got raped as a bonus,” he said.
“That won’t happen this year. I get housing, with his other assistants. It’ll just be a room, but that’s all I need.” It had occurred to her too that she could try again to track down her mother. But she didn’t know where to look this time. She had exhausted all her avenues before, and had come up with nothing.
The job was worth going to L.A. for. It sounded perfect as a next step. The next day the employment office called to tell her she had secured the job. The studio had confirmed. She was going back to L.A. to work for Hamish Quist, even as a lowly tenth assistant. It didn’t get better than that.
Chapter 9
Antonia completed sophomore year successfully, and was on the flight to L.A. right on schedule on the first of June. The plan was different than it had been the year before. She was to go by cab to the house where Hamish Quist’s assistants were staying. It was in the hills, in a canyon, across the street from the house they had rented for Hamish Quist himself, so they were near at hand, but not underfoot. He was bringing two assistants with him from England who had worked for him for years. They had hired a topflight American production assistant, a highly experienced woman they were paying a fortune, and at the bottom of the food chain, Antonia would be there to serve all of them, with anything they wanted her to do. She had to be available at all times, her official workday ended at ten p.m., but could be extended as long as they needed her. She was to start at eight a.m., as directed by the three main assistants. There was no official day off, and she would be notified if and when they could give her free time. Considering the house and the duties, they were paying her a minimum but decent wage. It sounded like a lot to her. She was to wear respectable, “non-suggestive, non-revealing” clothing at all times, which wasn’t a problem for her either. She had brought her best summer dresses and nicest shoes, along with clean, untorn jeans. Lara had helped her put her wardrobe together and approved. Hamish Quist was a big deal.
When she reached the address, a houseman in uniform directed her to an apartment over the garage. He said it was the old chauffeur’s apartment, which Antonia didn’t mind. The houseman informed her that he came with the house, which was owned by a European director who had bought it four years before and never used it since, so they rented it out.
The chauffeur’s apartment was decorated in bright, multicolored floral chintzes and looked freshly done. She had a small bedroom, a living room, an immaculate bathroom, and a kitchenette. There was maid service to the rooms, so she had no housework to do. It was a first-class luxury experience and nothing like what she’d had a year before. There were some basic things in the refrigerator, a few bottles of wine, and the houseman left her after he set her two suitcases up on luggage racks.