“Theresa,” he said when I came in. His jacket pulled at the gut, even though it was custom made, and his tie was held by a gold bar so out of style, it would be back in style in six months. “You all right?”
I assumed he was referring to the dark circles that screamed late night out. “Gene took some of us to see an act last night.”
“Ah, Gene. I’m sure the bill will be of magnificent proportions. Sit.” His smile, which sparkled from his white teeth to his eyes, was the product of decades of asking for things and getting them.
I sat on the leather couch. “It’s nice to see you.”
Actually, it wasn’t. Being invited to his office meant something was wrong, especially in light of my three o’clock Monday meeting’s cancellation.
“Can I get you something? Water? A drink? Hair of the dog?”
Only half the staff came in half sober on Fridays. It was the life. As if proving my unmade point, he poured himself a drink as amber as a pill bottle.
“I’m fine.”
“I hear you’re on Katrina’s set. Michael’s movie,” he said.
Agents and producers called talent by their first name whether they’d ever pressed flesh with them or not. Arnie, of course, was one of the few who’d actually earned the right that everyone else took for granted.
“Script supervising in off hours. It’s fun.”
“I imagine you’d be good at continuity. And you picked the one director we represent who’s a walking time bomb.”
“She’s my friend.” I was suddenly, inexplicably, unusually nervous, as if he could see right through me.
He sat across from me and crossed his legs, an odd gesture for a man. “She’s dangerous. She has entitlement issues. After that lawsuit with Overland, she’s poison, to be honest. Be careful.”
“Have you ever known me to be anything but careful?”
“You are famously vigilant.” He smiled, but it was reserved. He really didn’t want me working with Katrina; it was all over his face. “I wanted to thank you for getting so many of our clients off paper. Saves man hours and money. They love us for it.”
“It’s what you hired me to do.”
“Everything’s running so smoothly, I thought you might have a little time on your hands?”
“I still have to run the department,” I said. “But if you had something in mind, I’m open to it.”
“Well, it’s irregular, if you will.”
“I’m not much of a pole dancer.”
He laughed gently. “Well, as that wasn’t on your resume, I’m sure we can overlook it.” He sipped his drink. “We rep a kid right out of USC. Matt Conway. You may have heard of him?”
“Oscar for best short last year.”
“Nice kid. Shooting a little movie on the Apogee lot. They have some nice European sets over there. Mountains in the back, the whole thing.”
“I’ve seen it,” I said.
“He rented a dozen or so vintage cars. The little stupid boxy things with the long license plates. Well, the company that owns the cars has audit privileges, in case anything going wrong. It’s irregular, like I said, but they’re exercising the right, and they insisted the head of our accounting department do it. I thought they meant our internal accounting, but they meant you.”
“Me?”
“Normally, I’d tell them to go pound sand, but this isn’t some prop company. There are powerful people involved, and if I say no, the phone’s going to start ringing.”
“What am I looking for?”
“He’ll tell you,” he said.
“I have a department to run.”
“Is that a no?”
“It’s just a statement of fact.”
“Good. We have a gentleman from the fleet rental and a representative from the studio coming at three, Monday.”
Three o’clock. Of course. Arnie hadn’t taken no for an answer in thirty years.
Daniel had been to the commissary before, on bank holidays when he had off and everyone in Hollywood worked. So when I got there, he was comfortably tapping on his phone, left alone for an hour during a tight campaign. Seeing him work the device tightened my chest. I’d thrown his last phone in the toilet.
“Hi,” I said, sitting down and putting the linen napkin on my lap.
He pocketed his phone and smiled at me. “Thanks for seeing me.”
I nodded, casting my eyes down. When would I stop playing the injured party? Why did I fall into victimhood so easily?
And why did he fall into the role of evildoer without so much as a blink? His hunched pose, something his handlers had trained out of him a year ago, returned. That lock of light hair, the one he used to brush away in a move the cameras hated, dropped in front of his forehead. I saw the effort he expended to not move it. I saw the extra tightness in his fingers as they wove together in front of him. I saw everything, and when I would have made an effort to relax him before, I just felt a thread of satisfaction.
I hated our dance. It made me sick. But I didn’t know how to stop the music because I still loved him. The man who let me arrange the house any way I wanted, who laughed at my stupid jokes, who rubbed lube on me when I wasn’t working right. The man who made such good but failed efforts to get me to orgasm with his fingers or his dick in me.
“How’s Deirdre?” he asked then continued when I tilted my head. “One of the admins saw a Drazen admitted and called me. She thought it was you.”
“Is that even legal?”
He shrugged. “I know people. It’s my job. Is she okay or not?”
“She’s fine.”
I’d ordered our food ahead of time, and it came to our table in wide-rimmed white dishes that would go out of style at the turn of the next century.
“How have you been?” He shuffled his food around with the heavy silver fork. Because of his childhood impoverishment, he ate as quickly and cleanly as a steamshovel on amphetamines, so he only ate when his company was distracted by conversation.
“Fine, thank you. I’m script supervising for Katrina when I can, so I’m a little tired. But it’s fun. She got Michael Greenwich for the lead, and he’s been incredible. On the strength of his performance alone, she’s hoping to get distribution.”
He huffed. “I’m surprised anyone wants to deal with her after the lawsuit.”
“Yes, she’s just another uppity woman asking for what she’s due.”
“You know I don’t mean it like that, Tink.”
I stopped chewing. He wasn’t supposed to call me that anymore. I looked out the window. “One day, we’re going to get over this,” I said, looking again at the man I loved. “Until then, let’s avoid the small talk.”
He cleared his throat. “The thing with us, it hurt me. My numbers. Especially on the east side, where they’re really conservative.”
“Yes, I know.” God, the ice in my voice. It felt like someone else was talking. I could will myself quiet. I could will myself honest. But I couldn’t will myself warm.
“I don’t want you to think I’m just talking about what happened like it’s all about me and the campaign, okay? But that’s the business of the lunch. If you want to talk about it on a more personal level, I’m happy to.”
“You’re fine. I get it. Go on.”
“I have a Catholic Charities thing Thursday,” he said.
“Okay.”
“They’re supporting me because I’m not sitting still on income inequality, but the thing with us—”
“And Clarice.”
“And Clarice—who is gone—was a sticking point. They almost pulled out. So I’m here to ask for a symbolic gesture from you.”
“Of?” I asked, but I knew what it was.
“Of forgiveness. Christian forgiveness that’ll play with the San Gabriel Valley. Your family is a big diocesan donor. It won’t go unnoticed.”
“What does this symbolic gesture of Christian forgiveness entail?”