“Oh, I’m definitely going to work this one,” Tiffany said. “As to the job itself … unless these clowns loosen up a little, it could be a long tour, if you know what I mean.”
“Hey. They’re no different from us,” chimed in a lanky individual who had just stepped up to the bar and overheard Tiffany’s comment. “Think of them as a road troupe that have been working together for a long time. We’re the new replacements, and they aren’t going to cut us any slack until we’ve shown them what we can do.”
“Hey, Doc!” Lex said, waving for him to join their conversation. “Didn’t get a chance to say hi earlier. Was that your son with you?”
“Sure was.” He raised his voice to call across the room. “Yo! Junior! Come over here a minute.”
The gangly teenager Tiffany had noted before rose from the chair he had been holding down and began ambling toward them.
“He sure has grown,” Lex said, making the obligatory observation.
“Sure has,” the newcomer confirmed. “I’m thinking of maybe using him for a stand-in for me in some of the rougher gags.”
Even though she didn’t find the man particularly attractive, Tiffany found her curiosity piqued. Lex usually held himself aloof from his colleagues, and generally had no use for men at all, unless they were producers, directors, or someone else important enough to further his career. The latter possibility was enough to capture her undivided attention.
“I don’t think we’ve met,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Tiffany.”
“I’m sorry,” Lex said, slapping his forehead melodramatically with his palm. “I thought everybody knew Doc … well, everybody who counts. Tiffany, this is Doc. Short for `Scene Doctor.’ He’s made me look real good the times we’ve worked together.”