Chapter 29: The First Employee
Landing the first job was a good start, and making money didn’t conflict with recruiting people.
Though Robert Downey Jr.'s career faced setbacks, it was far from ruin. Hawk had no luck in Brentwood, where too many peers were already camped out, making exclusivity impossible.
At the Wing Chun Gym, he had managed to recruit a few informants, but the Tracy Gym remained a blank slate. The gym wasn’t just Downey’s spot but also a popular choice for many Hollywood stars and athletes.
New to Los Angeles, Hawk lacked connections. After so thought, he rembered Eric Eason, a director he’d t at the Sundance Film Festival. Eric had ntioned plans to develop his career in L.A.
Hawk found Eric’s number and made the call.
Eric was thrilled. “You’re in Los Angeles?”
“More opportunities here,” Hawk said truthfully. “So, I decided to move here and try my luck.”
“Got ti? Let’s et up,” Eric suggested.
“Perfect timing. I could use a little help from you,” Hawk said.
They agreed to et in Century City.
Twenty minutes later, Hawk arrived at a Starbucks and waited briefly before Eric showed up, right on ti.
The young director looked much more confident than he had at Sundance.
After ordering coffee, Hawk remarked, “Looks like you’re doing pretty well.”
Eric laughed freely. “Not bad at all.” Then, sizing up Hawk, he added, “You’ve really changed. If you hadn’t reached out first, I’d have thought you swapped bodies.”
Hawk joked, “I wish I could swap bodies. Ideally for a handso one—a real star’s face. Then I could live off my looks.”
Eric teased, “It’s not just the face. In Hollywood, so also rely on their ass and mouth.” His tone turned serious. “If you want to grab onto soone powerful, you have to get down and work those angles.”
Hawk chuckled to himself. Eric, the artist, was still sothing of a philosopher.
Because of their collaboration in Park City, Eric trusted Hawk more than most. “Found a job yet? Want to join ?”
“I’ve got sothing already,” Hawk declined politely. “How’s your progress?”
Eric shared his excitent. “Next month, District Heights is hitting the DVD and VHS market. It’s profitable, so Katherine has agreed to help secure a million-dollar budget for my next project—a proper theatrical film. I’m currently writing the script.”
Hawk, clueless about screenwriting or filmmaking, asked, “Is the script done yet?”
Eric waved it off. “Not even close. It’ll take at least six more months.” Then, with a dramatic air, he sighed, “So I’ll have to keep enduring for a while longer…”
Sensing Eric’s unease, Hawk reassured him, “Compared to soone like George, you’re lucky. At least Katherine’s a woman.”
The comparison worked. Thinking about his rival, George Hanson, Eric imdiately brightened up.
Hawk then brought up his favor. “I’m new to L.A. and don’t know many people. Ran into a little trouble, so I figured I’d turn to you.”
“Say no more. Tell what you need,” Eric offered.
Hawk smiled. “Since Sundance, I’ve been maintaining a strict workout regin. You can see the results. There’s this Tracy Gym in Westwood with great facilities and professional trainers. I gain weight easily, so I want to sign up there. Problem is, it’s mbers-only, and joining requires a referral from an existing mber.”
Eric thought for a mont. “I’ve heard of that gym—quite famous in the industry. Katherine ntioned it once. I’ll check with her.”
“Thanks,” Hawk said sincerely.
“No problem,” Eric replied but then recalled sothing. “You’re not planning to cause trouble at the gym, are you?”
Hawk flexed his arm, striking a playful pose. “Of course not. I’m just there to work out.”
Relieved, Eric promised, “Alright. Leave it to .”
They continued chatting about Eric’s new project, with Hawk wisely listening rather than offering opinions on creative matters.
At noon, Hawk treated Eric to lunch. Afterward, he received a call from the convenience store owner in North Hollywood, informing him that Robert Downey Jr. had arrived at the Wing Chun Gym.
Hawk drove there imdiately.
Outside the store, Bree, the white owner, lounged casually, watching the Eric Ohlen Martial Arts Gym across the street.
Inside, her mixed-race employee, Edward, was busy stocking shelves.
As Hawk stepped out of his car, Bree waved him over and pointed across the street. “He’s been in there for a while. His wife ca chasing after him. I know her—Deborah. She’s all over the papers today.”
Hawk nodded slightly. According to the news, Deborah had moved out of Brentwood with their children, separating from Downey.
Following professional etiquette, Hawk handed Bree $20. “Thanks for the tip.”
Delighted by the easy cash, Bree returned to her store.
Edward, having witnessed the exchange, complained to Bree, “I was the one who spotted him first.”
Bree snapped, “Get that pile of cotton products into the storage room. I’ll order you fried chicken and waterlon juice for lunch!”
“You treat like a slave! Working every day without pay!” Edward was furious. He ripped off his apron and shouted, “I’m done with you!”
Hawk barely noticed the quarrel as he turned to see Downey and Deborah erging from the gym.
They were arguing heatedly, with Deborah calling Downey scum and accusing him of being unfit to be a father.
Downey, clearly guilty, got in his car and drove off.
Deborah followed suit, leaving shortly after.
Hawk lowered his cara. Behind him, Edward stepped out of the store.
Bree’s voice rang out from inside. “You leave , and you’ll end up holess!”
Edward shouted back, “I’d rather live on the streets than let you drain dry!”
Hawk glanced curiously at the convenience store.
“Hey, buddy. We et again.” Edward grinned, flashing a row of white teeth, and gestured toward Hawk’s cara. “Caught anything good?”
Before Hawk could reply, Edward continued, “See? Every ti you run into , you hit the jackpot. I saw your last front-page scoop. Struck it rich again this ti?”
Hawk casually replied, “Just earning a living.”
Edward suddenly had an idea. “Say, are you hiring? I’m a hard worker. We’ve got great chemistry. I can drive, use a cara, and never complain. Every boss I’ve worked for says I’m great…”
Hawk said nothing, gesturing toward the store.
“No, no, that’s different,” Edward explained quickly. “I felt sorry for her—divorced with a kid—so I stuck around as her boyfriend. But she treats like a slave! I’m worse off than my ancestors picking cotton.”
Hawk cut to the chase. “Why’d you go after her? Be honest.”
Edward shrugged. “Divorced with kids? ans child support. I figured I could skim a little off the top.”
“This isn’t the first ti, is it?” Hawk pressed.
Scratching his head, Edward admitted, “I got out of Compton without ending up holess thanks to single moms. They’ve got at least half the divorce settlent, plus child support. Most own hos but are lonely and need soone to do the heavy lifting…”
Hawk found him amusing. This was a unique survival skill. “Who taught you all this?”
Edward chuckled. “Figured it out myself.” Glancing back at the store, he added, “But this ti, I got nothing. Dayti labor, nightti… more labor. I’m done!”
Hawk, in need of an assistant and soone to handle risks, found Edward’s background fitting. He motioned toward the car. “Let’s talk on the way.”
Handing Edward the keys, Hawk instructed him to drive while he called Jack from the National Enquirer. They arranged to et at their usual spot for a deal.
Edward, a native Angeleno, navigated the city with ease and quickly brought them to the destination.
After a brief wait, the bearded Jack arrived.
Hawk sent Edward away to give them privacy. The two quickly struck a deal—$200 for the photos.
The argunt between Downey and Deborah wasn’t major news, but as a follow-up to a previous headline, it had so value.
Once Jack left, Edward returned. “Deal done?”
Hawk nodded and, with a serious tone, said, “Let’s talk about you working for . Show your driver’s license or ID, and your Social Security number.”
“Seriously? All this just for a job?” Edward grumbled but complied, handing over his license and reciting his SSN.
Hawk photographed the license and noted the SSN. “You’re on a one-month trial period. California minimum wage. Hours are flexible. als provided during work. And your phone stays on 24/7.”
Edward groaned. “My ancestors on the plantation had better deals than this!”
“You can walk away anyti,” Hawk replied flatly, before sweetening the pitch. “My studio is just getting started. If we succeed, you’ll be my business partner.”
Edward wanted to refuse but recalled the fireworks of that night and reluctantly agreed. “Fine. If it doesn’t work out, I’m leaving.”
Hawk added, “Not so fast. To get this job, you have to pass my test.”
He didn’t believe in charging employees or making them invest, but anyone wanting to join West Coast dia had to prove themselves—through commitnt and a willingness to take risks.
Every good hire needs so skin in the ga.
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