Chapter 61: The Middleman

Grey Film Company had been busy for nearly two weeks, and Benjamin Galvin had obtained the preliminary budget for "Zombie Strippers".

"1.2 million dollars?" Benjamin saw the figure and was almost in despair. "I told the boss that we could wrap it up within a million dollars."

Prowse, the head of the budget team, said, "Ben, you want the costumes and set to be top-notch, special effects, lots of action scenes, from pre-production to post-production in four months, to catch this year's Savannah Film Festival. It can't be less than 1.2 million dollars."

Benjamin slumped into his chair. "The boss won't greenlight it."

Prowse whispered, "There is one more way, shoot it the old way and make it a late-night film."

"Late-night film? I've had enough of those lousy late-night films!" Benjamin jumped up. "I'm aiming for a theatrical release, even if it's just in Georgia."

Prowse responded, "I can't help anymore, unless you can get external funding."

Benjamin tossed the budget report onto his desk. "Where do I get that kind of investment? Sell my butt?"

Prowse picked up the budget report. "Then the only way is to convince the boss."

In silence, Benjamin waited until Prowse left before picking up the phone to call Martin. "Martin, it's me, Ben. How's it going on your end?"

Martin replied, "Kelly's coming back to Atlanta tomorrow. We need to talk in person."

Benjamin asked, "How sure are you?"

In the bar, Martin put down the newspaper and said, "Director, another issue?"

"The preliminary budget is out." Benjamin was exhausted like a man after a quick release, "At least 1.2 million dollars."

It was slightly less than Martin's estimate of 1.5 million dollars. He paused momentarily to make Benjamin feel the difficulty and then said, "Let's brainstorm."

Benjamin responded, "That's all we can do."

Martin put away his phone. The soothing and melodious music played in the bar. Elena stood behind the counter, quietly talking to the middle-aged female owner.

The middle-aged woman had tasted a few of Elena's cocktails and acknowledged her skills.

Not too long after, Elena walked over quickly. "Got some exc..."

She quickly corrected herself, removing the habitual curse word and opting for a more polite version. "Mary decided to hire me. Seven dollars an hour, tips are mine, and I start today."

"Congrats." Martin stood up and hugged her tightly. "I told you, you'd be great!"

Elena gave him a strong kiss. "That's because you taught me well."

Martin let go and let her sit down. "You've mastered all the variations of Paper Plane. If anyone asks, say you invented the recipe. If anyone wants to buy the recipe from you, sell it."

Elena said, "But Paper Plane is yours."

Martin shook his head. "It's of no use to me, but it is to you. Elena, I've watched you carefully. You're more talented at bartending than I am. Don't waste that talent. Paper Plane can help you make a name in this business."

Just like expansion screws and penicillin, things have value only when used.

Martin's goal wasn't to be a bartender.

Elena wasn't one to shy away, "Alright." She suddenly winked. "I'll reward you properly when we get back."

Martin tore a corner off the newspaper, folded a delicate paper airplane, and handed it to Elena. "This is for you."

Elena took it and saw customers at the counter. "I'm going to work."

Martin picked up the newspaper and continued reading. The focus sections of the "Atlanta Constitution" were full of news about the DEA and APD's joint drug busts.

They had hit South Atlanta with full force, breaking up one spot after another, arresting many Black drug lords.

His phone vibrated. Bruce was calling. He answered, "You here? I'm at the Clear Water Bar. I'll get you a drink."

Bruce and Monica entered the bar.

Monica stayed at the counter, ordered a drink, and chatted with Elena, while Bruce came over to sit across from Martin.

Martin ordered two drinks and snacks, then asked, "Back to work?"

Bruce stared at Martin, "What kind of bullshit are you up to now?"

In all of Atlanta, besides the sibling duo of Elena, Bruce was Martin's most trusted ally. He asked discreetly, "How about we act as middlemen for a deal?"

Bruce was straightforward, "Spill it. Who do we target?"

Martin was exasperated, "Bruce, we are decent people, civilized people. No need to target anyone." He subtly inquired, "Besides stirring up trouble, what else do you do as a fixer?"

Bruce understood what Martin was asking but didn't answer directly. Instead, he posed, "Do you like avocados? They are popular nationwide, prices rise every year, and heavily import-dependent from Mexico. Getting an import permit isn't easy."

Martin didn't know much about avocados but understood Bruce's message. He said, "I want to persuade Vincent to invest in the film."

Bruce frowned, "Vincent probably won't agree."

Martin still needed to talk with Kelly and said, "I'll meet Vincent in a couple of days."

Bruce said, "You nosing into club matters isn't surprising, but I won't help with this. You know where Vincent is; you can see him anytime."

Martin didn't press further and changed the topic to chat with Bruce about other matters.

...

At Atlanta International Airport, Erica, Julia, and Kelly Grey, each with their assistants, walked out of the arrival gate.

Members of the ATL Liberty Club were already there to pick them up.

Kelly spotted Martin immediately, nodded slightly, and first sent Erica and Julia off in their respective cars.

Martin took Kelly's luggage and helped put it in the trunk of the BMW with Ella's assistance.

In the car, Kelly asked, "Why are you here?"

Martin flashed the badge on his chest. "I'm a formal member of Liberty Club. Isn't picking up the vice president part of my duties?"

Kelly found something off in his tone. "What's with your accent?"

Martin said, "Practicing the Hollywood style, starting from daily life."

They exchanged small talk, and soon they arrived at Kelly's downtown apartment.

Martin carried the luggage upstairs for her.

Upon entering, Kelly kicked off her high heels and sprawled out on the sofa, stretching lazily. "Nothing like being home."

Martin headed to the liquor cabinet. "Want a drink?"

"I'm not an alcoholic," Kelly glanced at Martin and asked, "I'm surprised you didn't go to L.A. with that female predator."

Martin walked over, sat beside Kelly, and handed her a USB drive. "Louise left this for you, suggestions on upgrading the car production center. She said you'd know the password."

Kelly sat up and put away the USB drive. "At least that slut has a conscience."

Martin hesitated. "There's another thing. Director Benjamin contacted me."

Kelly responded quickly, "He wants you to lobby for 'Zombie Strippers'?"

"Yes, he indeed mentioned that," Martin was obviously siding with Kelly in conflicts between Benjamin and Kelly. "The budget team's minimum estimate is 1.2 million dollars."

Kelly nodded slightly. "The investment is too high."

Martin said, "You were in Washington, and Benjamin called me multiple times. I didn't know how to respond, so I consulted Louise. She talked with me about something you mentioned last time."

Kelly asked, "What was that?"

Martin lowered his voice. "You mentioned to Louise that you'd rather cooperate with money launderers."

Kelly's reaction was much like Louise's. "I thought it was something serious, but it's just that." She countered, "So, can you secure funds?"

Martin nodded. "After you mentioned it last time, I kept an eye out, and I think I have some leads."

*****

https://www.patreon.com/Sayonara816.