Just after eight o'clock, Luke knocked on Wayne's door, a thick package of materials under his arm.
They went through the contents quickly. First, in the presence of Jenny, the beautiful neighbor signed her contract. Wayne knew how rare it was to find an actor with genuine breakout potential—he still remembered the impact Naomi Watts made in King Kong years later.
The rest of the paperwork was for equipment rentals. Wayne read through the contracts and signed.
"Wayne, what about the hospital? Where are you going to shoot the exterior scenes?" Luke asked.
"I remember an abandoned mental hospital in the suburbs of Orange County," Wayne said.
"We'll scout it. If it works, we'll use it. I can't afford to build a set or rent from a commercial hospital."
Without a producer or production manager, every dollar had to be stretched.
"That's it for now. Today I'm meeting Jimmy's clients—CAA rookies. We'll have a production meeting tomorrow. Once you're ready, we'll head to the school and start shooting. The whole cycle can't run longer than two months; we need time for post."
"Okay, boss. Your call."
Wayne nodded. "Tomorrow morning, you and I are going to Vincent High School in Orange County. I want to shoot the school scenes there. I've been before—it's perfect. The catch is convincing them to let us in for an extended shoot."
Luke accepted a coffee from the neighbor and frowned. "That's tough. Even public schools don't like crews disrupting classes. And Vincent's private. If parents complain, the school could face trouble."
"It's all in the pitch," Wayne said. "We'll offer to feature the school's name in the film, give them a few background roles for students, and frame it as a profile boost. Plus, it's a unique experience for the kids."
Private schools could be persuaded. Public ones, less so.
By nine, Wayne was grabbing his coat. "Ms. Watts, lock up if you leave."
"Want me to make lunch for when you get back?" she asked with a knowing smile.
"No thanks."
They took the pickup straight to Orange County. Luke drove while Wayne read through documents in the passenger seat.
"Why Orange County?" Luke asked. "Wouldn't L.A. be easier?"
"Not if we want it affordable," Wayne replied. "In L.A., we'd never get a school without paying. Orange County's cheaper for lodging and everything else. And that hospital I mentioned is nearby. I'm thinking about the whole picture."
Luke was surprised. "You're already planning crew accommodations?"
"I have to. No production manager, and you're new. I need everything lined up before we roll. I go to sleep thinking about what could go wrong."
Luke glanced at him, realizing this guy might just pull it off.
At the school, Luke stayed in the truck, jotting down Wayne's prep notes—especially for props. With only one prop engineer and a couple of extras, Luke would have to pitch in.
An hour later, Wayne returned with a rare smile and a signed agreement.
"No rental fee," he said. "They'll cooperate fully. In exchange, the school's name appears in the film for five seconds, and a few students get background roles as social practice."
It had taken studio credentials and project materials to seal the deal.
"Nice work. Heading back?" Luke asked.
"Not yet. I booked a small hotel nearby. I want you to negotiate the rate. If it works, we'll house the crew there for one to two months."
Two blocks away, they pulled up to a three-story building with weathered walls.
"Push them lower," Wayne said. "If it falls through, I'll step in."
Wayne waited in the lobby while Luke met with the manager. Half an hour later, Luke emerged, nodding.
"They'll give us a very low rate, plus three meals a day. Once we know the headcount, we can sign."
"Good. Keep costs down—anything can happen during a shoot."
Wayne checked his watch. "In the afternoon, I'm meeting Jimmy. He's got a supporting actress and a lead actor to show me—both new signings. Let's get moving."
Luke pressed the accelerator. It was almost noon.
When Wayne and Luke stepped inside, the air in the apartment felt charged.
Naomi was on the balcony, script in hand, her gaze fixed—cool and assessing—on the young woman seated on the sofa. Jimmy sat beside her, with a striking young man next to him. Both guests looked as if they'd been waiting in silence for some time.
As the door closed, the stillness broke. Jimmy rose, gesturing toward his clients. "Luke, Wayne—these are my people. Ms. Uma Thurman, and Mr. Ethan Hawke."
Wayne gave a brief nod, his expression unreadable. "Make yourselves comfortable," he said, before disappearing into the bathroom.
When he returned, freshly washed and in a clean shirt, Naomi was already on her feet. "Wayne, have you eaten? I picked up pasta from the store—want me to make some? My cheese bolognese is amazing."
Before he could answer, she slipped an arm around his neck, her eyes never leaving the girl on the sofa.
Wayne gave a small shrug, half amused, half resigned. "No, Luke and I grabbed burgers on the way. Jimmy—this is our lead, Naomi Watts."
Naomi smiled sweetly. "Hi, Jimmy." "Hi, Ms. Watts," Jimmy replied, polite but brisk.
Wayne cut in, picking up a résumé from the coffee table. "Uma Thurman… I see here you've already done a feature—Kiss Daddy Goodnight. Haven't seen it. Why don't you introduce yourself?"
Uma rose, gave a slow turn so Wayne could take in her presence, then sat again. "I'm Uma Thurman, born in Boston, April 29, 1970. My family's in New York now. My first film was Kiss Daddy Goodnight in 1988, where I played a seductress. I was discovered at fifteen by a modeling agent in New York—did dozens of magazine covers before Jimmy showed me your script. I thought… I could be your heroine."
Her voice was confident, her eyes locked on him. She clearly believed she could win him over.
Wayne glanced up, catching Naomi on the balcony mouthing a single, sharp word: bitch.
His brow furrowed. He shot Jimmy a look—Jimmy must have told Uma which role was open. But it was obvious she'd come prepared to angle for more.
"Ms. Thurman," Wayne said evenly, "your résumé's solid, especially for a newcomer. But I'll be clear—I'm casting you for Lori, the supporting role. Not Terry, the lead. If that's a problem, we'll have to pass."
He turned to Jimmy without waiting for a reply.
Jimmy frowned, then said, "Wayne, she can handle Lori. Trust me."
He gave Uma a pointed look, the kind that said I told you so.
Uma smiled faintly. "I can play Lori. Of course… if you ever want me to read for the lead, I'd be happy to."