A/N: Hello, lovelies! I'm back with a new modern AU, which is almost already fully written - a new thing for me, to have it all done ahead and not be only one chapter ahead of you all - and therefore should be updated fairly regularly. It'll be approximately 28-30 chapters in length, so feel free to give it a follow if you like it.
DISCLAIMER: I know nothing really about the film industry. If you do, please read with a willing suspension of disbelief. :)
BIG HUGS for chelsie fan, who has very patiently (for months) beta'd this story, offering both suggestions for grammar and corrections and also her highly-valued opinion about the plot lines themselves. And this story would never have happened had the idea not come from a conversation with the lovely susiestarbux, reviewer extraordinaire and knower of many things LA. Thank you, thank you, thank you for allowing me to run with this. xxx
Many characters appear, but this will primarily be a Chelsie fic.
xxx,
CSotA
Thursday, 18 August
Tom Branson reached to open the door of the limo, extending a hand to Elsie to help her out of the back seat.
"Here we are, Ms. Hughes," he smiled, tipping his hat.
"Tom, if you're going to be my new assistant and chauffeur, then we can't have me feeling my age every time we're together. I've told you a million times, it's just Elsie."
Tom looked behind her and murmured, "Not when Old Lady Crawley is around."
Elsie closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "She's right behind me, isn't she?" she whispered.
"Just across the street, waiting for the light to cross," he confirmed.
"She's early. Although I suppose I can't be surprised."
Tom chuckled, then moved around her to close the limo door.
"Pick you up in an hour?"
"If not sooner." She smiled at him and tightened her grip on the briefcase, then glanced back at the limo. "And you'll need to restock the Scotch, too. I feel like I'm going to need it after this meeting."
"No idea what Robert has planned?"
"Not a clue - and that scares the shit out of me."
"Ah, you'll be fine. He's afraid of you, I think."
"Oh, please. He's not afraid of anyone except his mother. I've known the man for ages, Tom; he's thoughtful to his core, but he's not the best person when it comes to being in charge of … well, anything really."
With a tip of his hat and a wink, Tom left her on the sidewalk as he got back behind the wheel and pulled the car away from the curb.
Elsie took another deep, steadying breath as she examined the scene before her.
People were milling everywhere, and yet there was a steady purposefulness to everyone that she appreciated. She heard a bicycle bell and stepped to the side as a page zoomed by; two staffers greeted her, and she smiled as she asked about this one's new baby, that one's upcoming wedding. There was music emanating from the long wall behind the tree-lined street, and a small bus was filling the space just vacated by the limo, with a trio of three beautiful blond children climbing in, being wrangled by a woman who must be their mother.
The sound of Violet's footsteps clicked on the concrete soon enough, and Elsie straightened her already perfect posture and turned to face her.
"Mrs. Crawley, it's a pleasure."
"I doubt that," Violet laughed. "But it's a necessity. Robert has lost complete control over this entire project."
Violet stared at Elsie with beady eyes underneath arched eyebrows, making the younger woman slightly uncomfortable. "Shall we walk in, Ms. Hughes, or just stand here and hope they'll hold this meeting on the walkway?"
Elsie tilted her head, smirking at Violet's spunk. In another world, she thought they might have gotten on famously as friends.
As they turn to walk through the massive, heavily guarded gate, Elsie's eyes glanced upward at the sign above it all:
Crawley Film Productions
She drew her lip underneath her teeth as she passed through the entryway and nodded a greeting at the afternoon guard, feeling every single time she walked behind the studio wall like that young, wet-behind-the-ears assistant producer she used to be, as though it were her very first day all over again. Elsie knew she was a strong woman and she was confident in her work, but walking through that door was her constant reminder of from where - and how far - she's come.
Violet was waiting by the elevator and Elsie joined her inside for the brief trip to the twenty-first floor.
"It's good to see you here," Elsie admitted. "I don't mind telling you that I have been a bit worried."
"As you should be, in your shoes," Violet told her. "I've no idea what the hell he's been thinking. I know I promised that this could be Robert's project and his alone, but my word!"
"It's the cast," Elsie replied. "With the exception of Cora and one or two others, they all need to be scrapped. And I'm sorry, but Harold has done nothing to stop it, either. As director -"
"Yes," Violet said, cutting her off as the door opens, "Well, I've made some progress in the cast department."
"Oh?" Elsie bristled. "And why, may I ask, am I only hearing about this now? Who is it, then?"
Violet stopped and turned to look at Elsie, but the producer couldn't read her expression. "You'll see soon enough, I suppose."
Elsie followed Violet through and noticed that they were some of the last to arrive; Robert Crawley, John Bates, and Phyllis Baxter were already seated by Robert's end of the table. Elsie was a bit surprised to see Thomas Barrow there, too, and she noted the smarmy look on his face as he saw her process his presence in the seat by Robert's right hand.
Violet took the chair directly opposite her son, a gesture which sent a jolt of electricity through the air; it was a challenge, a battle for control, and went disregarded by no one.
Elsie sat beside Phyllis, greeting her politely and glancing at Phyllis's iPad, noticing she'd written nothing yet and reassuring herself they'd not arrived too late. Phyllis was Robert's secretary, and Elsie liked her quite a bit - perhaps more than half the people working at CFP, if she were honest.
Elsie noted the two remaining empty chairs, wondering whom they were waiting for. She reached for the pitcher of water in front of her and poured a glass for herself and one for Violet, when suddenly Robert's phone buzzed on the table, startling them all.
He checked it and scrolled down, a small frown upon his face.
"They're almost here," he announced. "We may as well get started, then, and they can catch up."
"She needs to learn to be on time," Violet muttered.
"All right," Robert began carefully. "I think it's clear to everyone here that we've run into a few snags before even hitting the ground running with the read-throughs. We're meeting here today to pool our ideas and see if we can save this project before it's too late."
He looked carefully at everyone seated at the table.
"Every one of you sitting here is a valuable resource to this company. I like to think of us as a family; to that end, I've made a few staffing changes, effective immediately."
Elsie raised an eyebrow, but she kept her peace.
"Thomas is taking over as director of the project," Robert declared. He looked over at Elsie, whose eyes had grown imperceptibly wider; she'd recommended Thomas Barrow initially, but she felt as though that request had gone completely ignored by Robert, who'd caved to the pressure from his brother-in-law, Harold Levinson.
Evidently, Robert has changed his mind. Interesting.
"You'll meet weekly and report to me on your progress, Elsie. Is that acceptable?"
"Of course," she agreed, smiling briefly at Robert. "You know me; I can't stand an atmosphere, and we've had quite an atmosphere around here lately. If you've let Harold go in favor of Thomas, I'm all for it."
Violet stiffened at the mention of Harold, the man they all knew usually meant well and yet could never manage to pull off any of his grandiose projects without a great deal of help; however, she managed to remain silent.
"Why, thank you, Mrs. Burns - oh, I'm sorry, Ms. Hughes. It has been a while, after all." Thomas's look was challenging as he threw the comment across the table, but Elsie simply rolled her eyes and turned her attentions back to Robert. She had always supported Thomas, but by God, his burning passion for gossip and needling his workmates was grating on the best of days.
"I've got the new contracts here, Robert," John was saying, and he slid a folder past Thomas and up to Robert, who lifted the cover and glanced over the paperwork as a formality, not really reading it. He trusted John implicitly and they all knew it; if John said things were all set, then they were.
"Cora is fine, as we all agreed," Robert said next. "But if you please …" He waved a hand at them all, indicating for them to open the folders before them.
Elsie did as he requested, glancing over the changes to the production team and making a few notes on her phone. She replied to a text from Tom, indicating he'd be a bit late picking her up, and she was just closing that when she heard Phyllis mutter, "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
Turning her attention back to the list, Elsie saw what it was that had captured Phyllis's attention.
Mary Crawley. Of course. And in the lead role.
Elsie glanced at Violet, who raised an eyebrow at her as if inviting the challenge; Elsie ignored it, knowing full well that despite her feelings toward the actual acting ability of Mary Crawley, she'd do best to never take up that particular mantle. This must have been the change to which Violet had alluded. Elsie's surprise was more due to the fact that she hadn't realized Mary was even acting again.
She must have a new agent. Even Violet wouldn't have hired her without a good one.
Elsie couldn't wait to get her hands on Mary's audition tape. As producer, she always sat in on the cast auditions when she could, but she was sure to have Phyllis get her recordings of the ones she missed.
Of course, she thought wryly, it helps to know when they are happening.
A knock sounded at the door before it swung open. Elsie's eyes were on her phone as she typed in an additional note and her back was to the door, but she didn't need to turn and look to know who'd just come through it.
"I'm so sorry we're late, Papa!" Mary's voice was loud in the small boardroom, and Elsie held in a shudder.
But it was the next voice that sent her into a tailspin.
"Traffic was murder," a deep, rumbling baritone voice was saying, and Robert stood up to extend his hand to the gentleman who had just walked in behind Mary. "I wasn't sure we'd make it at all, but your daughter knew a shortcut."
"Of course I did," Mary scoffed, sitting in one of the chairs beside her grandmother. "I grew up in this neighborhood, didn't I? I obviously know my way around more than that horrid driver."
"I believe you know everyone," Robert was saying.
"Of course. John, good to see you. Phyllis, Violet … and you must be Thomas."
"Yes. Good to finally meet you." Thomas said, shaking the man's hand.
Elsie could feel the man's eyes on her back, and she managed a deep breath as her teeth relinquish their hold on her lip. She turned to face him, a blank expression on her face. He was taller than she remembered, and definitely more handsome than he had been at University.
"Charles. How lovely to see you."
His eyes widened in surprise, and he glanced at Robert before turning his eyes back to Elsie.
"Elsie? Elsie Burns?"
She rose from her chair to greet him; it was the last thing she wanted to do, but she was being horribly rude sitting with her head tilted up to look at him.
"It's Hughes again, actually," she said, and she found herself momentarily distracted by the flicker in his eyes as she shook his hand.
"Ah. Well, then. What brings you here?"
"Elsie's our executive producer, Charles," Robert told him. "I needed the best, and Elsie's it. I'm sure I mentioned it."
"Indeed she is and, no, you didn't." He quirked an eyebrow at her as he took his seat - the only one remaining, directly to Elsie's left. "I'd have remembered that."
Elsie couldn't speak, but she managed to clear her throat and take a sip of water.
"Well," Charles added, "it appears we'll be working rather closely, then. Just like old times."
"Let's hope it ends up a bit better than that, shall we?" she muttered.
Only Violet overheard her, and she emitted an amused titter as she examined them. Elsie reached for her ice water again and nodded, thinking that if Tom Branson hadn't managed to score a new bottle of Scotch for the limo, she just may fire him.
"You're Mary's new agent, I presume?"
"I am," he confirmed. "And the new historical advisor for the project." He glanced over at Violet. "As of two weeks ago, is that right, Violet?"
The older woman nodded. "Just so."
"How wonderful," Elsie said.
Charles looked at her false smile, his own faltering just a bit. But before he could ask anything further, Robert was moving ahead with the meeting.
I'd love to know what you think! Please take a moment and let me know. xxx