“It doesn't get better than this, does it?” he asked her in a velvet tone. She felt Douglas more than heard him. She didn't know why yet, but every time she heard him or was near him, she felt simultaneously drawn to him and shut out, both attracted and repulsed. It was a strange kind of push-me-pull-you kind of response, as though you wanted to be close to him, yet knew you couldn't. He was like an Egyptian tomb full of dazzling riches with an ancient curse that kept you away.
He looked into Tanya's eyes and smiled at her in silence for a moment, admiring her, but enjoying saying nothing. He didn't need to. The way his eyes caressed her said it all. He talked to her in the soft undertone of someone who knew her well, yet he didn't. He didn't know her at all, except through her writing, which had already told him so much about her. She felt naked as she stood before him, and then he looked away. And this time she had no urge to run screaming from him. She told herself that nothing about him could control her or invade her. He couldn't take more than she gave, or so she thought. He was a man, not a magician. A producer. A person who bought stories, and brought scripts like hers to life on screen.
“Are you meeting people?” he asked, looking concerned. It seemed to matter to him a great deal that everyone enjoyed the evening, particularly Tanya, since she was a newcomer in their midst. She had met most of the cast, thanks to Max's warm attention, except Ned Bright, who had been constantly surrounded by a group of very pretty young women, who had all come with other men but gravitated instantly to him. He was currently Hollywood's hottest young male star, and it was easy to see why. He was charming and utterly gorgeous. And the girls around him had been giggling and laughing all night.
“I am,” she said simply, looking into Douglas's eyes. She was determined not to be overly impressed by him, nor cowed. “I love your art, it's like visiting a museum,” she said, noticing yet another famous painting spectacularly lit in a small living room off the pool she hadn't previously noticed. It was the music room, where he played the piano. He had studied to be a concert pianist as a child and young man, and he still played for his own enjoyment, and that of his close friends. She had been told that in his youth he had been thought to have immense talent.
“I hope it doesn't look like a museum, that would be very sad, like seeing animals in the zoo instead of their natural habitat. I want people to feel comfortable with the art, and not afraid of it. One should enjoy living with it as part of their experience, like a good friend, not staring at it like a stranger. All my paintings are old friends.” It was an interesting way to view it, and as he said it, she found herself looking at the smaller Monet in the music room. The way it was lit brought it to life, and it almost seemed like a mirror image of the pool, with people chatting happily all around it. The champagne that was flowing lavishly was doing its job. People looked relaxed and happy, and so did he. He seemed far more comfortable here, in his own surroundings, than he had at the Polo Lounge at the hotel. He looked graceful and gracious here, and totally in control of his own world. Nothing escaped his notice, and he seemed to be keeping an eye on everyone, and all the details of the evening. Max joined them a few minutes later, as Douglas was telling Tanya about collecting antiques in Europe. He said he had found some real treasures a few months ago in Denmark and Holland, notably a fabulous Danish desk, which he pointed out.
“It's a good thing we don't give these get-togethers at my place,” Max said, laughing broadly. He still looked like an elf to Tanya, with his round belly, bald head, and beard. He looked like one of Santa's helpers, while Douglas looked like a movie star himself. Tanya had heard that at one time Douglas had wanted to be an actor, but had never tried it. He much preferred the powerful role of producer. He controlled so much more that way, like the puppet master who brought all the elements together. Max was more like the gentle Gepetto.
Douglas laughed too at Max's comment about doing these early cast parties at his house. “It would be a little different,” he conceded, as Max explained to Tanya.
“I live in the Hollywood Hills in a house that looks like a barn and should probably be one. I have horse blankets on my couches, twoweek-old fast food sitting around on the coffee table, and my ex-wife took my vacuum cleaner fourteen years ago when she left me. I haven't had time to get another one, I've been too busy. I've got my old movie posters on the walls. My finest antique is my TV. I've had it since nineteen-eighty. I paid a lot of money for it, the rest I got from Goodwill. It's a little different from Doug's house.” All three of them laughed at what Max had said without regret or apology. He loved his house. He would have been acutely uncomfortable with a house like Douglas's, although he loved the art. “I've got to get another cleaning woman one of these days. My last one got deported, which was too bad, I really liked her. She was a great cook, and played a mean game of gin rummy. The dust balls are getting bigger than my dog.” He went on to explain that he had a Great Dane named Harry who was his best friend. He promised Tanya she'd be meeting him on the set. He always came to work with him. He wore no collar or leash, so his tags wouldn't bother the sound man, and Max said he was perfectly trained. “He loves coming to work with me, the caterers always feed him. He gets depressed and loses a lot of weight between movies.” He went on to say that the dog weighed close to two hundred pounds.
As they chatted, she was struck again by the differences between Max and Douglas. One was soft and warm and cozy, the other all hard edges and sharp corners, despite the highly polished veneer. Max looked like he'd bought his wardrobe at Goodwill, when he bought the furniture for his house. Douglas looked like the cover of GQ. It was fascinating for Tanya talking to them, and being with them. She wondered how much Douglas would be on the set, while they were making the movie. His biggest job was raising the money to make it, and keeping an eye on the budget. Max's job was getting the best possible performance out of the actors. And they both loved what they did. Tanya could hardly wait to get started on the film.
The food was served at nine o'clock at the pool, at several long buffet tables. There was one table entirely covered with sushi, from a popular Japanese restaurant. There was another table laden with lobsters, crabs, and oysters. And the third table offered exotic salads and traditional Mexican food. There was something for each taste, and the young male stars were heaping plates with food. Douglas introduced her to Ned Bright as he cruised past them, followed by four women. She noticed instantly how much he looked like her son, Jason.
“Hi,” he said, looking happy and relaxed, apologizing for not shaking her hand. He was carrying two plates, one with sushi, the other with a ton of Mexican food on it. “Don't give me too many lines, I'm dyslexic,” he said, laughing. She wondered if he really was, and she asked Max about it afterward. It might help her to know that.
“No, just lazy. He tells all screenwriters that. He's a really nice kid.” He was the new face in Hollywood these days, and an absolute sensation. He was twenty-three and the male lead in the movie, opposite Jean Amber. He looked older than he was, closer to thirty, although he had played a blind sixteen-year-old boy in his last film, which had received lavish praise and had won him a Golden Globe. He also had a nice side career as a drummer and singer in a Hollywood band, made up of young stars. He was the lead singer. They'd just recently had a hit CD, and she knew all three of her kids would go crazy when she said she'd met him. Molly particularly nearly fainted when she heard it.