Series: If you walk out of Apex Media to play live-in nurse to that washed-up recluse, you are dead to this family and blacklisted from Hollywood, my uncle Victor Cross told me five years ago.

The small, windowless conference room in Arthur Pendelton’s office felt like a war room. Instead of a noisy battle, however, we were orchestrating a quiet, [more…]

The automated email from the SEC hit Apex Media’s legal counsel at 8:15 AM, precisely fifteen minutes after Arthur’s filing processed. It was a standard [more…]

I was packing more of Eleanor’s personal effects into boxes at the bungalow when a timid knock sounded at the front door. It was Chloe. [more…]

The Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel buzzed with an electric energy. Limousines idled along the curb, their tinted windows reflecting the flashing cameras of the arriving press. [more…]

Victor Cross strode onto the stage to a polite but enthusiastic round of applause. The lights dimmed slightly, spotlights illuminating him as he took the [more…]

My voice, when I spoke into the microphone, was calm, almost conversational. It didn’t boom like Victor’s; it simply cut through the lingering echoes of [more…]

Thirty minutes later, the air in the Hollywood Roosevelt parking structure was cool and surprisingly quiet. Above me, the concrete levels hummed with the distant [more…]

Late that same afternoon, the Pasadena bungalow was quiet again. The sun dipped low, casting long, golden shadows through the kitchen window. I sat on [more…]