The sun cast a soft glow over the Berkeley Hills estate as a golden ball of fur tumbled down the garden slope, its ears flopping in excitement with each bounce. Harry stood on the edge of the lawn watching the pup barrel through a flowerbed.
"That's the third flower patch this week," Lisa said from the steps of the patio, arms crossed and looking at the chaos that was unfolding as if she already knew the ending.
Harry grinned while holding up a dog biscuit. "He's got personality. Just like me."
Lisa rolled her eyes. "He's got something, that's for sure. And you realize I'm going to end up walking him, feeding him, and cleaning up his... legacy, right?"
Harry knelt down as the pup dashed back to him, its tail wagging in a frenzy. "That's not true. I got a whole house staff. Maria's around."
Just then, in a flash, Maria, the elderly housekeeper with sharp eyes, appeared in the scene with a mop in one hand and a chew toy in the other. "Señor Harry, your 'Sparky', has chewed up two hall rugs."
With a wry smile, Harry took the chew toy. "It's a phase. He's teething. It'll pass."
Maria huffed and placed a leash into Lisa's hands. "Señorita, he likes you. You are the alpha."
Lisa regarded the leash as if it were a noose. "Fantastic. Just what I always wanted - a golden-furred chaos machine to babysit."
"His name is Sparky," Harry said, scratching the dog behind the ears. "And he is the emotional anchor of this house."
"Emotional anchor? He peed in your screening room yesterday," said Lisa.
"Territory marking. He has taste," Harry said with a grin.
Sparky barked, as if this were some sort of agreement, and then spun around and dashed to dig at a spot on the lawn in front of the rose bushes.
Lisa sighed. "You're lucky he's cute."
------
The following day, Harry was at the home office, papers spread out on the wide oak desk, Sparky sleeping next to the chair, tail wagging. Gregory, FunTime Pictures' veteran producer, and now the newly assigned producer for Providence, sitting across from him.
Gregory rubbed his chin as he went through the latest schedule. "We'll need to go out for location scouting soon. Rhode Island in early spring has the moody feel we're after. Cold, wet, quiet."
"That's right. I want it to feel real. Secluded." Harry said.
"Wow," said Gregory, looking impressed. "You've really grown. A year ago you were all about animated sponges and zombie punching."
"A man can grow," Harry said, sipping his espresso.
"You've kept Jonathan Nolan appraised?"
"Yeah. He and the Wilson brothers have been collaborating. I think they like each other finally. Jonathan's cleaned up a lot of the third act."
Gregory stared down at the working script again. "The cult imagery is sharp. The tunnel system under the church... twisted. We'll need a good art department for that."
"I'll call Darren from Dead Walkers. He built that war bunker set within two weeks! I'm getting him onboard."
Gregory jotted the note down. "Any thoughts on casting?"
Harry shifted back in his chair. "We go indie. Unknowns. I want the audience to question every single character. They're bad enough already! If we cast an actor they recognize, they get comfortable. I want a strong lead. And possibly a theatre actor."
"Fine. But you will want a recognizable name somewhere in the supporting cast for the marketing."
"He nodded. We'll find someone. I have a couple on my short list."
Sparky emitted a low, satisfied groan from the floor.
Gregory looked down, "Is that the new mascot?"
Harry grinned, "That's my Executive Producer!"
______
Later that day, as the estate bustled with quiet activity—Maria overseeing laundry, Lisa on the phone booking location scouts, and the catering guy and James trying to figure out if Sparky had eaten one of the shrimp canapés—Harry stood at the glass doors of the terrace, looking out at the Hollywood Hills beyond.
Sparky padded over and leaned his head on Harry's foot. Harry glanced down, rubbing the pup's head.
"You know, Sparky," he said softly, "this is just the beginning. First Memento. Then Providence. Maybe I'll direct a franchise next."
Sparky sneezed.
Harry smirked. "Fair. One thing at a time."