Page 5 of Second Act
“I can’t believe they did that to you.” She sounded stricken.
“Neither can I. But they did. Security walked me out. How much severance did they give you?”
“Two weeks,” she said in a small voice. She’d been saving for a vacation, now she’d need the money to pay her rent.
“You can work for me at the house if you want. I’ll pay you more than they did. All hell is going to break loose here in about two hours when they announce it. You can man the phones and keepeveryone off my back.” It was going to be big news in Hollywood. The biggest in years, maybe ever.
“I’ll be right over,” she said, and hung up, as Andy walked into his study and sat down on the couch. He wanted to call Wendy. She picked up as soon as she saw it was her father.
“Hi, Dad, how are you? I was going to call you tonight. I haven’t heard from you in a couple of weeks.” He usually called her once a week, but he hadn’t, concerned about the sale and not wanting to tell her about it. “Are you okay?”
He hesitated for a beat before he answered.
“I am, or I will be. I’ve got some weird news to tell you, Wen.”
“Please don’t tell me that you’re getting married.”
He laughed. “Not that bad. But bad enough. I just got fired. The studio was sold to a multibillion-dollar private company, and the new owner’s son wanted my job.” It was simple really, and easier to explain than to live with. “It happened about an hour ago, and they’re sending out a release to the press at noon. I didn’t want you to hear it on the news.”
“Oh my God, Dad. I can’t believe it. Did they give you any kind of warning or notice? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I just found out this morning. They told me about the sale three weeks ago, but they told me my job would be protected and I was safe. I guess they were wrong,” he said, remembering that she had been thirteen years old when he got the job, and she’d wanted to know if she could go to movies now for free. Now she was thirty-two and had two young children of her own.
“Can you sue them? They can’t just throw you out like that on a moment’s notice.”
“Yes, they can. That’s how it’s done. They’ll compensate me in the severance package. I’m sure they’ll take good care of me. They can afford to. But I’m out of a job, and head of studio jobs don’t grow on trees. I may be out of work for a while,” he said to her, or forever. With the limited number of studio jobs, and at fifty-seven, he wasn’t even sure there would be another job before he hit retirement age. It was too much to think about right now.
“Can I tell Mom?”
“Sure. She’ll hear it on the news anyway,” Andy said. He felt as though he had climbed a mountain that morning and fallen off a cliff. “I’ll call you soon,” he promised Wendy, and got off the phone right after Frances arrived. She looked dazed, sheet-white under her freckles, and had mascara streaked down her cheeks. She burst into tears the minute she saw Andy, and he put his arms around her to console her.
“I can’t believe they did this to you,” she said, sobbing.
“To us,” he reminded her. She was more worried about him than herself. He was the most powerful man in the film industry and they had fired him as brutally as they had her, with no notice. His financial situation wasn’t precarious, but the blow to his ego and pride was enormous. His whole identity had been his job for nearly twenty years. He felt naked without it. Who was he now? He had no idea. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it.
He walked to the bar in his office and poured himself a scotch on the rocks and offered Frances one. She declined. He took a long sip and thought about calling Alana and decided not to. She would hear it soon enough. The word would spread like wildfire. It was ten-thirty in the morning, and he had been out of a job for just over anhour by then. He felt like he was floating in space in a science fiction movie.
The phone rang and Frances answered it. It was Jean, calling from Cleveland. Wendy had just called her mother.
“I can’t believe it. Those bastards. They’re insane,” Jean said to Andy. “Are you okay?” she asked him, sounding more like a sister or a mother than his ex-wife, but they were on good terms.
“I don’t know. I think I am.” It was kind of like a car accident. He was still in shock. “I don’t know what hit me yet. At my age, I may never get another job, not a big one like this.”
“You will if you want one. You’ll figure it out,” she said gently, and felt sorry for him. “Let me know if I can do anything to help.”
“Thanks, Jeanie. I’ll be okay. Take care of our girl, you always do,” he said gratefully. She always had, when he was too busy to, and thought he was so important as a studio head. Now that was gone. He had no idea what to do or be now, or even who he was. He felt as though he had been swept away by a tidal wave, and couldn’t get his feet firmly on the ground again. Getting fired had knocked him for a loop, and he had the feeling that Tony had enjoyed it. Andy told himself he was being paranoid.
He had another drink at noon and turned on the TV to watch the news. And there it was, the second story in, that Andy Westfield, son of famous cowboy actor and director John Westfield, had been let go as head of Global Studios, which had just confirmed that they had been acquired by communications monolith FAQTS. The position of CEO had been filled by Jeff Latham, the new owner’s son. The news report said that Westfield had not yet been reached for comment. As they said it, Frances looked out the window and saw all the TVnetwork news trucks arriving and a flock of reporters stampeding across the lawn in front of Andy’s house. They rang the front and back doorbells, and Frances instructed the staff not to answer and to pull the shades and draw the curtains. Within half an hour, they were under siege. The reporters were desperate to talk to Andy, and he flatly refused to comment. Frances tried telling them that he wasn’t home but they didn’t believe her, so they didn’t move. Even if he was out, he would have to come home sooner or later.
Alana called Andy right after the noon news, and he took the call. She sounded chilly.
“Why didn’t you tell me? You could have warned me.” She sounded peeved, not sympathetic.
“I didn’t know,” he said.
“They didn’t tell you?”
“No, they fired me flat when I got to work this morning. They told me about the sale in confidence a few weeks ago, but they said my job was secure. And this morning, they told me they had a change of plans. So that’s it. I’m done.” He wondered what her reaction would be. She sounded as stunned as he had been, and didn’t know what to say.
