Brett Priestley was chatting up an extremely attractive young English woman in Barmuda.
“Oh yes, I’ve done quite a bit of that sort of thing. There are a lot of commercials filmed here ,” he said, trying to exude an air of knowingness. “You may have seen me. Third bottle from the right in the Heineken Dancing Bottles commercial? That was shown all over the world.”
The young woman’s eyes seemed to roll back in her head.
“You’ll have to excuse me for a moment,” she said faintly, ‘I need to get some air.”
Brett saw her go over to her friends and start pointing at him. She was impressed, he could tell. Chicks loved the fact that he’d been in commercials. Look at that, she and her friends were giggling about him like a bunch of school girls comparing notes on Justin Bieber. He was in!
He gave the woman a wave and made various hand gestures that hopefully conveyed that he was going to the bar and she should stay right there until he came back. This caused another outbreak of giggling. Man, this was one deal he was going to seal later on tonight!
Unlike the day’s Open Home. That had been much harder than expected. Business , as his real estate mentor Phil said, had been steady all day. Steadily bad! Not even the neighbours had come in for a shifty look! He’d prepared so hard for it and didn’t once get to use his patter on a real live person. Oh well, there was always next weekend. He was sure that if he increased his affirmation time by 10 minutes each day, that sale would be sure to manifest itself.
A noisy group of women arrived, obviously a hen party out on the tiles. He examined them as the barman got him his beer. Heineken of course, he was a brand ambassador now.
He couldn’t believe his luck. One of them was Megan from the talent agency he was signed up with. He’d been trying to get a hold of her for ages but she didn’t seem to be getting his messages. “She must be with the XT network, “ he thought.
The woman she had with her looked familiar. Where had he seen her? It was his next door neighbour wasn’t it. The artist chick. What was her name? Lizzie or something? Might be nice to actually meet her properly after all this time. Apart from the first day he moved into Remarkables Lane, they’d never really spoken, although he always made an effort to give her a cheery wave whenever he saw her. He thought they’d probably have a lot in common, seeing as they were both creative types.
He grabbed his beer and made his way over.
“Megan! How are you. I’ve been trying to contact you for ages.”
“Oh hi, Brett. Yes, I got your messages. Like I said, I’ll definitely be in touch if any jobs come up but there’s nothing out there at the moment. It’s very quiet….very quiet.” She drew out the last two words as if she was conjuring up a desert landscape populated only with cacti and tumble weeds.
Brett was disappointed. “It was just that I heard from somebody who said they’d been for an audition for some car commercial and I had kind of hoped…”
Meegs cut him off.
“Well, you’re not always going to be suitable for everything. I show the producers everyone on my books. Mostly they have a very definite idea in mind of who they want so we have to go with their vision”
“You do tell them about my previous experience though,” Brett asked eagerly.
“Yes, Brett it’s all there in your bio. I’m sure it’s noted.”
“And that I can do accents. Listen, I can do American.” He did his best American accent. “I can do English” He gave them his best Brit impersonation. “Oh and I can do Australian.” He demonstrated again.
“That’s been noted also,” said Meegz drily. She grabbed Libby’s arm and dragged her forward. “Hey, you know Libby, don’t you?”
Libby! That was it. Not Lizzie. Thank God , he hadn’t called her by the wrong name. Phil, his real-estate mentor said calling someone by the wrong name was the killer of any potential deal. He’d been working on name retention but obviously needed to put more time into it.
“Libby, how are you, isn’t it great that two creative people like ourselves live next door to each other…”
Suddenly the English woman came into view again. She was standing on her own. It was time for him to make his move.
“Sorry, ladies,” Brett said, “Gotta rush. Hope to hear from you soon Megan.” He made his trademark pistol motion with his fingers, swivelled and swaggered off to seal the deal.
“Chloe! Thought I’d lost you there.…sorry just talking to my agent. There’s this car commercial coming up…”
“It’s Clarissa, you numpty. Bugger off”
He watched sadly as she flounced off. Yep, a little more work on the name retention needed.