While Joey was neck-deep in pre-production on Source Code, the final (and fattest) paycheck from Juno finally hit her bank account.
It takes forever for a movie to finish paying out; almost two years after release, she was only now seeing the last chunk. Money in the account felt damn good after all those ramen-noodle years.
On the producing side, Joey had to admit: Hughes ran circles around her when it came to efficiency. The guy was the money man, but he'd basically rolled up his sleeves and started co-producing just to keep things moving.
While she was out scouting locations, locking down prop houses, filing with the guilds, paying fees, and sweet-talking city offices, Hughes had already dropped a thick stack of actor headshots and résumés on her desk.
Joey flipped through the pile and raised an eyebrow. "What is this? Did we reach out to Tobey Maguire or not?"
Hughes gave her that half-cocky, half-charming smirk. "My poor little kitten, are you really that hung up on that short little California surfer dude? What's he got that I don't?"
She stared at him like he'd lost his mind. He's the one who dumped her, she spent decades in her last life getting over him, and now he's acting all flirty again?
"Can we stay on topic?" she said, deadpan. "Did you contact Tobey or not? We're supposed to be working together here."
Hughes planted both hands on the little round table in front of her and leaned in close, way too close. "Tell me exactly what it is about that shrimp that's got you so obsessed."
They were practically nose-to-nose. For one split second his eyes dropped to her lips, and Joey could swear he almost went for it.
Even after the breakup, there'd been nights, quiet, lonely nights, when he'd imagined kissing her again.
Lucky for everyone, Joey ducked away and shot him a death glare. "Are you insane?"
She figured he was just messing with her again. They were over; she wasn't his plaything anymore.
Hughes's eyes went cold for half a second, ego bruised, but he covered it fast with his usual couldn't-care-less mask. He straightened up and changed the subject like nothing happened.
"He passed. Hard pass. Told me straight-up he doesn't trust you yet. Your track record's too checkered—one indie darling and people think you're a flash in the pan. Any actor with a little heat right now is scared of being the guinea pig."
Joey's shoulders sagged. "Fine. I get it. Most name actors are probably side-eyeing me right now, thinking I can't deliver something worth risking their quote on."
Hughes snorted. "You're this torn up over baby-face Maguire?"
"Can you stop turning every male name I say into some jealous boyfriend drama?" she snapped.
He threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, my bad. Over-sensitive."
"Whatever. I've got backups." She slapped the folder shut.
"Who?" He pulled out a cigarette. "Mind if I smoke?"
"Go for it." She waved it off. "Back when we were shooting Juno, I was really impressed with Perran."
Hughes burst out laughing. "The guy from the San Fernando Valley who got his start in porn? Joey, when did you get so open-minded? You sure you want headlines screaming he slept his way into the lead?"
She glared. "I don't care where he came from. Talent is talent."
He lit the cigarette, took a satisfied drag, and shook his head. "You can give him a supporting role, but lead? People will have a field day."
"I'm not scared of headlines."
"Naive. I swear, you young idealistic girls are gonna be the death of me." He gave her a long look. "Do it and I'll veto it. Investor's privilege."
She deflated. "…Fine. You win."
Old habits die hard; she still had that reflex: when Hughes dug in his heels, he was usually right.
She flipped through the stack again and suddenly froze.
Bradley Cooper.
The guy who, in her previous life, had quietly paid his dues for years, then exploded with The Hangover in 2009 and turned into an Oscar regular. Right now, though, he was still a nobody, just another handsome face doing guest spots and bit parts.
But she knew the raw talent was there. The work ethic. The charm that cameras loved. All he needed was the right rocket ship.
Hell yes. This was her guy.
She looked up, grinning. "Him. Bradley Cooper."
Hughes raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? The random Philly kid the guild shoved in the pile? I only included him because someone owed me a favor."
"You don't have to get it," she said. "Just trust me."
She said "Hughes," not "Mr. Hughes," just his name, the way she used to. It hit him right in the feels. He decided not to fight her on it.
Lead and most supporting roles got locked in fast. Audition dates were set with agencies. Bradley killed his audition; Joey basically cast him on the spot.
Only one big piece was still missing: the female lead.
Joey could tell Hughes was sitting on something. "You said you had someone for the girl. Where is she?"
He poured her a coffee, gave that mysterious squint-smile. "Old friend of mine. Industry legend. She read the script, loves it, loves you, and wants in. Up to you, though."
"Who is it? Anyone who runs in your circle has to be a big deal."
He stubbed out the cigarette. "She's worried you might freak when you hear the name. Asked me to feel you out first: can you work with someone who's got… baggage?"
Joey actually laughed. "Are you kidding? My baggage has its own baggage. As long as she's good now and shows up ready to work, I don't care what happened in her past. We're making a movie, not getting married."
"Perfect. I'll bring her by in a few days."
Joey hated the suspense. "What kind of baggage are we talking?"
He exhaled dramatically. "The 'used to rule Hollywood, then crashed hard and burned' kind."
Joey clapped once. "Oh my God, that's literally my autobiography. Okay, I'm probably gonna love her."
Hughes just smiled. "We'll see."
Over the next few days Joey finished casting the rest of the roles. Bradley was every bit as good as she remembered; one audition and it was a done deal.
A few days later she called Hughes again.
He sounded like he'd just rolled out of bed. "Talked to her again. She's a huge fan of yours and dying to do it. Says if you're cool with her being a little older, she'll do it for scale plus a cupcake."
Joey blinked. "Wait, is she Tom Cruise's generation?"
"Maybe a touch older."
Joey grinned. "Don't care. Not casting a teenager. If she can act, we're golden."
"Tomorrow, then," Hughes said. "I'll bring her by."