without obedience.” That pup leaped onto my leg at hearing her name. “Now, Odin on the other hand—”
“He’s a natural,” Larry assured me. “Of course I can’t guarantee anything, but I’d like to take his picture and have our agency represent him. Send him out on auditions, whatever.”
“I’ll need to consider if that’s a kind of conflict of interest, since I’m acting as your company’s attorney in anticipation of litigation. It absolutely would be if I represented the other side, but it’s most likely okay. Especially since I don’t even own Odin.”
“You don’t?” Corbin was the one who appeared upset. “Then why did you bring him?”
I had no intention of getting into a sorrowful explanation, so I simply said, “I’m watching him for a good friend. I suspect it would be okay with his owner if he got into films.”
“Can you sign a contract for your friend?”
“Unfortunately, no,” I said. I’d had Jeff execute one of my official Critter TLC, LLC, animal care contracts, which gave me the authority to get Odin veterinary care if needed, but signing agreements for film roles was above and beyond anything it reasonably anticipated.
“Is your friend somewhere that we could e-mail an agreement to him? Fax it?”
Hell if I knew. “He’s out of touch right now.” I had started to get all antsy. I really didn’t want to delve into details. Instead, I said, “I need to leave now. Thanks for the demo and additional information. If you happen to learn of a role for an Akita, I might have a way of getting consent from a relative.” Jeff’s mom, Irene, might agree, although she probably had no better official authority than I did. “Meantime, I’ll contact plaintiffs’ counsel and see if we can resolve this whole thing amicably.”
“Without paying them anything, Kendra,” Corbin said sternly. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Let me find out what I can about their claims, and then I’ll be in touch,” I told them. I said goodbye to Corbin, Shareen, and Larry, and told them to convey our farewells to adorable Dorky. Then Lexie, Odin, and I got on our way.
TRAFFIC WAS ANYTHING but terrific as we headed home. Not that it was unusual for L.A., but the congestion really soured my state of mind. It was one of those occasions when I kind of comprehended road rage. I mean, the traffic reports on the news radio stations didn’t mention obstructions or accidents on the 5 Freeway or the Hollywood, but both were backed up enough to keep my car crawling nearly the entire way.
As a result, I was in too taut a temper for any kind of nonsense by the time I arrived at my first pet-sitting destination.
Fortunately, Piglet the pug gave me no guff. In fact, he seemed pleased to be visited by Lexie, Odin, and me, and to be taken on a three-dog walk along his residential street. I gave him a huge hug and an extra treat when we departed.
And much to my surprise, Abra and Cadabra, Harold Reddingham’s usually aloof felines, met me at the front door, rubbed their sweet, furry sides against my legs, and even purred. I’d of course left the canines briefly in my car in the shade, since they didn’t play well with cats. I nearly purred back as my mood mellowed and I stroked the kitties’ backs before feeding them and dealing with their litter box.
Then there was Stromboli, the shepherd mix, who yapped and pranced in apparent ecstasy to see my dog companions and me. Next door, Maribelle Openheim came outside her cottagelike house, Meph at her side.
“Any more need to borrow my boy here?” she asked. She smiled fondly down at her little dog, then back up at me. Her well-styled short hair appeared mussed, and her outfit, too—dark slacks and light shirt—seemed to have been donned hurriedly.
“Not today, but soon,” I said. Then, “Is everything okay?”
“Couldn’t be better,” she said. “I’ve got a new guy in my life. I’m making a home-cooked meal for him, so I’m a
“He’s a natural,” Larry assured me. “Of course I can’t guarantee anything, but I’d like to take his picture and have our agency represent him. Send him out on auditions, whatever.”
“I’ll need to consider if that’s a kind of conflict of interest, since I’m acting as your company’s attorney in anticipation of litigation. It absolutely would be if I represented the other side, but it’s most likely okay. Especially since I don’t even own Odin.”
“You don’t?” Corbin was the one who appeared upset. “Then why did you bring him?”
I had no intention of getting into a sorrowful explanation, so I simply said, “I’m watching him for a good friend. I suspect it would be okay with his owner if he got into films.”
“Can you sign a contract for your friend?”
“Unfortunately, no,” I said. I’d had Jeff execute one of my official Critter TLC, LLC, animal care contracts, which gave me the authority to get Odin veterinary care if needed, but signing agreements for film roles was above and beyond anything it reasonably anticipated.
“Is your friend somewhere that we could e-mail an agreement to him? Fax it?”
Hell if I knew. “He’s out of touch right now.” I had started to get all antsy. I really didn’t want to delve into details. Instead, I said, “I need to leave now. Thanks for the demo and additional information. If you happen to learn of a role for an Akita, I might have a way of getting consent from a relative.” Jeff’s mom, Irene, might agree, although she probably had no better official authority than I did. “Meantime, I’ll contact plaintiffs’ counsel and see if we can resolve this whole thing amicably.”
“Without paying them anything, Kendra,” Corbin said sternly. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Let me find out what I can about their claims, and then I’ll be in touch,” I told them. I said goodbye to Corbin, Shareen, and Larry, and told them to convey our farewells to adorable Dorky. Then Lexie, Odin, and I got on our way.
TRAFFIC WAS ANYTHING but terrific as we headed home. Not that it was unusual for L.A., but the congestion really soured my state of mind. It was one of those occasions when I kind of comprehended road rage. I mean, the traffic reports on the news radio stations didn’t mention obstructions or accidents on the 5 Freeway or the Hollywood, but both were backed up enough to keep my car crawling nearly the entire way.
As a result, I was in too taut a temper for any kind of nonsense by the time I arrived at my first pet-sitting destination.
Fortunately, Piglet the pug gave me no guff. In fact, he seemed pleased to be visited by Lexie, Odin, and me, and to be taken on a three-dog walk along his residential street. I gave him a huge hug and an extra treat when we departed.
And much to my surprise, Abra and Cadabra, Harold Reddingham’s usually aloof felines, met me at the front door, rubbed their sweet, furry sides against my legs, and even purred. I’d of course left the canines briefly in my car in the shade, since they didn’t play well with cats. I nearly purred back as my mood mellowed and I stroked the kitties’ backs before feeding them and dealing with their litter box.
Then there was Stromboli, the shepherd mix, who yapped and pranced in apparent ecstasy to see my dog companions and me. Next door, Maribelle Openheim came outside her cottagelike house, Meph at her side.
“Any more need to borrow my boy here?” she asked. She smiled fondly down at her little dog, then back up at me. Her well-styled short hair appeared mussed, and her outfit, too—dark slacks and light shirt—seemed to have been donned hurriedly.
“Not today, but soon,” I said. Then, “Is everything okay?”
“Couldn’t be better,” she said. “I’ve got a new guy in my life. I’m making a home-cooked meal for him, so I’m a
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