September 2nd, 1978.
James was halfway through writing the lyrics of Footloose songs.
The phone rang.
James picked it up.
"Fantasy Pictures."
A familiar voice answered.
"James, it's Jerry."
"Please tell me you're not asking for a sequel again."
"No, it's not that, I just want to ask something."
"Go ahead, I too have something to tell you."
"The new office has a vacant storage room."
"Yeah, so ?"
"I was wondering if we could turn it into prop designing room currently we don't seem to have anything to store there anyway."
"No, Absolutely not, we cannot continue to rent and borrow gear like cameras and lights, That storage room is not big enough as it is."
"But."
"No buts jerry."
"As for your prop room rather than hastily built one,
let's make it during reconstruction of the warehouse,
I am going to turn that warehouse into post-production facility anyway,
One more room for design would not be a problem."
"That's fine but when will that reconstruction start ? There are too many props for your next movie."
"Well, you make a point but it can only be a temporary one,
you can make plans with the architect later during reconstruction."
"Yeah, Sure. So what was it that you wanted to ask james ?"
James slammed the desk as if remembering something horrid and yelled at the receiver.
"I almost forgot, Jerry you bastard...who is this con man Harry Rodwick ?"
"The number you gave me is from a laundromat run by a woman call Cathy,
That Harry bastard owes her a debt of $1200."
"That mad woman was spewing curses at me asking me to pay his debt and whereabouts of Harry guy."
"Jerry you bastard, Don't you dare hang up, is this your producer connection."
Jerry on the other side was shocked by the sudden rant from james.
"James, Relax..."
"Relax my foot, Jerry who is this bastard."
Jerry amused pulled the receiver away from his ear.
"Alright calm down, The guy has worked in theatre half his life, He has connections and Numbers to plenty of people who climbed up from broadway. I know his regular hanging spot, I will bring him with me tommorrow."
"He better be useful Jerry."
Just as james was about to continue his rant jerry hung up the phone leaving james angry and linda happy and amused.
The phone call had ended five minutes ago.
Linda was still giggling at her desk.
James was still irritated.
The half-finished lyrics sat in front of him.
Linda leaned over his shoulder and began reading aloud.
"Footloose, Footloose..."
James already knew where this was going.
"Kick off your Sunday shoes..."
Linda stopped, Then she looked at him.
James slowly looked up from the typewriter.
"Then can you come up with something better, my dear?"
Linda immediately shook her head.
"No."
"Then kindly stop criticizing genius."
"I didn't say I could write songs."
"But I can dance better than you."
James stared at her for several seconds.
The worst part was she was probably right, He really couldn't dance.
"Go back to work."
Linda looked entirely too pleased with herself returned to her desk.
James returned to the typewriter.
The lyrics somehow looked even more ridiculous now.
Time passed till evening.
Martha arrived with document regarding the purchase of office and warehouse.
Martha spread the papers across the table.
"The purchase agreement is ready."
James glanced at the photographs.
The office building near Burbank.
Their future headquarters.
"Any problems?"
"Nothing major."
Martha pointed at the warehouse section.
"The warehouse needs renovation."
"We already knew that."
"Electrical upgrades."
"Even with renovations, it's still a good purchase."
James nodded, For one-point-five million dollars it was difficult to complain.
Martha pulled another document from her breifcase.
"This arrived yesterday."
David's report.
The preliminary review of contemperary Records.
He flipped through several pages.
Revenue, Assets, Recording facilities, Existing contracts with artist.
"What do you think?" James asked.
Martha folded her arms.
"I think you were right."
"Meaning?"
"The company is on decline along with internal conflict and that young son can't handle it, growth is limited with jazz, The recording facilities are valuable, Catalogue is valuable."
James looked through several more pages.
"What kind of number are we talking about?"
Martha considered it.
"Five to seven million."
James nodded slowly.
"That's manageable."
Martha smiled.
"I knew you'd say that."
The meeting continued for another hour on renovation and acquistion budget before everyone finally headed home.
The next morning Jerry arrived exactly when he said he would.
he wasn't alone.
A man in his fifties followed behind him.
Jerry pointed dramatically.
"There he is."
James immediately stood.
"Harry Rodwick."
The man nodded.
"That's me."
"Do you owe twelve hundred dollars to a laundromat owner named Cathy?"
Jerry immediately started laughing.
Harry looked confused for several seconds before understanding
Then he started laughing too.
"She actually told you that?"
James folded his arms.
"For ten minutes."
Harry shook his head.
"Cathy's my ex-wife."
James paused.
"Oh."
Jerry was now laughing hard enough to struggle breathing.
Harry pulled out a chair.
"The laundromat used to belong to my family."
"I gave it to her during the divorce."
"Oh."
James suddenly remembered everything he had called Cathy during yesterday's phone call.
None of it sounded particularly good anymore.
Harry looked amused.
"What exactly did she say?"
"I'm not answering that."
Jerry laughed even harder.
Fortunately for james Linda was not here she was with martha to complete the property transfer of the new office.
Once everyone finally settled down the conversation turned serious.
James explained Footloose project to harry and his requirement for producer with decent enough experience of working on musicals with connections to hire appropriate people.
Harry listened quietly.
Occasionally asking questions.
By the end he leaned back in his chair.
Harry thought for several moments.
Then began listing names.
Some James recognized.
Some he didn't.
A few were immediately crossed off.
They were out of current james's capability to hire.
Eventually Harry stopped.
"Hmm."
"What?"
Harry rubbed his chin.
"Actually..."
He pointed at the name
"That's the one."
"Howard Rosenman."
James looked up.
The name sounded familiar.
"I think he fit all of your criteria."
James wrote the name down.
"And?"
"Most importantly."
"I think he'd actually like your script."
Harry reached into his jacket and pulled out a small notebook.
A few seconds later he tore out a page.
Name, Office number, Home number.
James accepted it.
Howard Rosenman.