Feast of Saints (29 page)

“Gwen is in London. She didn’t learn about it until this morning, London time.” That would have been the middle of the night here in LA.

Although she considered it rude to look at her phone during shared meals, she couldn’t resist. She opened her pocket book to peek at her phone. There were three missed calls, each one from Gwen. They’d come in on the ride over to the W.

Smiling, she held up the screen to show Phillip the missed calls. “Good old Gwen,” she said giddily.

Throwing discretion to the wind, she raised her glass again and again as she and Phillip toasted by name each of the
Fox
nominees.

When they’d named them all, Phillip set down his glass and reached into his bag, pulling out a thick packet in a familiar white envelope.

“Wow, that’s a much bigger contract than the other two,” she said. “Did the production credit Frances offered me change it that much?”

“No. It is a big change, no doubt, but the new contract for
Feast
is virtually the same.” Opening the envelope, Phillip pulled out a stapled document that looked like the two contracts she’d previously signed and handed it to her. “Just a couple of new paragraphs. The production credit is on page two.”

“The rest of this,” said Phillip, taking out a much larger document and a color Mjicon brochure and handing it to her, “is a multi-year agency contract with Mjicon.”

Sobering, she silently accepted the brochure and the much thicker Mjicon contract.

“Let me tell you about the benefits of being a permanent resident on our talent roster.” said Phillip. For the next hour, over a delicious brunch that she barely tasted, Phillip proceeded to actively court her for Mjicon.

It wasn’t just about getting her jobs and taking a commission. He was offering her the deluxe package, including personal administrative support. Mjicon’s philosophy was that artists needed to be free to be artists. Let Mjicon handle the rest.

When dessert came, Lilly put aside for a moment her queasiness over the continued entanglement with Jake that the offer represented. She desperately needed the help Phillip was offering. The unopened offers that had come in while she was in Italy were a drop in the bucket compared to what was coming in the wake of the Oscars nominations.

Finding her voice, she started asking questions. Phillip smoothly answered all of them. As she listened, she recognized that she’d be foolish to say no.

Phillip’s pitch faltered only once, when Lilly asked a question that she never would have asked had it not been for all the champagne.

He had just started explaining the limousine service, when she interrupted him.

“Okay, Phillip, you can stop trying to sell me, but I’m not giving up my Vespa. Is Jake putting you up to this?”

Phillip set down a forkful of sticky toffee pudding and fingered the stem of his fluted glass. As he lifted the glass to his lips, she saw for the first time a glint of hardness beneath his jolly exterior.

“No. I’m doing what’s best for the company.” Lilly felt the fudge covered pieces of Captain Crunch in the spoonful of ice cream she’d just swallowed stick in her throat.

“I’ve told Jake, and now I’m asking you: Put aside what’s gone on between the two of you during this picture, and just do this. You both know it’s for the best.”

The Captain Crunch wouldn’t move. Her ensuing fit of coughing brought the waiter rushing to her side to refill her water glass.

She took a big gulp and swallowed hard. She couldn’t hold back the obvious question Phillip’s admonishment meant.

“Jake doesn’t want Mjicon to sign me?”

“No, no, I didn’t say that. Of course he wants you to sign on. He’s just staying out of it.” Phillip was regarding her with concern. “He vowed to stay out of it.”

“Did he tell you what’s… gone on?” she croaked, her throat still smarting.

“He didn’t have to. I’ve known Jake since before he was old enough to order a pint. I can make a guess, unless you’d like to tell me?”

She did want to dissect the situation with someone who had insight, but Phillip’s advice would be in her best interests only to the extent her interests coincided with Jake’s. He’d have to have that heartless side, wouldn’t he? That glint of hardness was what enabled him to run a company like Mjicon, bossing around personalities like the Tom Weinholds of the world, cutting deals for Jake.

Besides, Phillip wouldn’t be able to keep their conversation confidential. Everything she said would be reported back.

“Nothing much has gone on,” she evaded. “We just don’t like each other much, I guess.”

Phillip guffawed rather loudly, startling her and the table nearby.

“Think as you will,” he said, shaking his head at her.

Lilly suppressed the urge to ask him what he meant. Phillip wouldn’t betray Jake’s confidence and her question would only reveal her own turbulent feelings.

Instead she said, “Thank you for celebrating with me and taking the time to explain everything to me. Of course I know I’d be foolish not to sign….”

“That’s exactly what I told him,” interrupted Phillip, distracted by the arrival of the bill. It sounded like Jake had argued against the wisdom of her accepting the offer before he vowed to stay out of it.

A rude little devil took over her mouth and body. Her white napkin hitting the table caught Phillip’s attention as she stood to make her exit. Knowing full well their luncheon meeting would be reported verbatim, she said, “I appreciate Jake staying out of it. I’ll let you know.”

Lilly left her Vespa in front of the W and asked the bellman to hail her a cab to Warner. Between the champagne and her agitation, she had no business driving.

At the studio entrance, she ran into Alan Hume. Inspiration struck her.

“Alan, may I ask you a favor? Can I borrow you before you start today? I need to screen test some of the Hawaii effects.”

“But I’ve only got a bit part in Hawaii,” he said, quickening his pace like an eighth-grader trying to avoid an invitation to a Sadie Hawkins dance.

Lilly hurried to keep up with him. “All I need to do is test the highlights and shadows for the beach scenes. Just the colors.”

All she really needed was a male body, preferably one used to being spray painted. And she needed it quickly, today if possible.

“Why don’t you ask Jake?” Alan asked.

Correction, all she needed was a male body that wasn’t Jake’s.

“I don’t know where he is,” she said. That was true, although she hadn’t looked for him.

“You’ve got the perfect build… and handsome features,” she said, trying flattery. She’d been around Alan enough to know that he had a true artistic temperament, complete with overwhelming vanity and a fragile male ego.

But Alan looked more alarmed, than complimented at her words.

Practically jogging to keep up with him, she said, “It’ll just take a few moments and it will wash right off. You’ll be glad you did it when you see yourself on screen. Your bone structure and physique are ideal for what I have in mind.”

Alan slowed. She was making headway.

“What do you need me to do?” he asked warily.

Gotcha. “Follow me,” she said and quickly led Alan to her Lab before he could change his mind. Once there, she instructed him to sit in the seat normally occupied by Jake. It took her a few minutes to pull out the compressor and airbrush, along with a few jars and tubes of color.

“Can you take off your shirt, please?” she said with her back to Alan. She’d gotten so used to asking Jake to strip for her, she didn’t stop to consider how Alan might feel about her blunt request. She didn’t even turn to look at him until she had all of her colors in order.

When she did turn, she stared at Alan’s naked torso. No wonder all of Alan’s scenes had him wearing at least a sleeveless shirt. From navel to neckline, he was covered in Egyptian-themed tattoos. It looked like he’d been working on creating a tattoo shirt for a number of years.

It was beautiful. She’d never seen anything like it. Poised with a paint gun, she leaned in close, peering at Nefertiti serenely staring out from the center of Alan’s chest, her geometric blue crown extending to his clavicles. A sunburst spread over his abdomen and dipped below the waistband of his pants. Small idols danced along its rays. Hieroglyphs were inked down the left side of his ribcage. The jackal-headed Anubis was on the right.

“Wow,” she said, truly impressed. This was no back alley job. No anchor stop. This was first class artistry.

“Yes, wow,” Alan echoed, without her enthusiasm.

Lilly looked at his unhappy expression. “This is beautiful work, Alan.”

“You don’t look at it every day,” he said bitterly. “Or watch the faces of casting directors when I take off my shirt. I wish someone had told me when I was younger that I wasn’t going to make it through life on music alone. Or want to.”

Staring at the tattoos, the fact that Alan had started in the entertainment business as a pop/rock star hit home. A career in film hadn’t been on the horizon when he’d begun this journey of self-expression. As a musician, even as a model, Alan’s tattoos were a marketable brand. But as a budding actor, they were a disfiguring obstacle to most leading roles. This level of dramatic body art was rarely called for in film, and if it was, it would be filmed only once.

She leaned back and squinted at him. “Okay, I’ll grant that if you had started in film at eighteen, maybe you wouldn’t have done this.”

Alan scoffed and pointed at the sunburst. “I started this when I was thirteen.”

Lilly smiled, “Who makes wise choices at thirteen? What I was going to say,” she went on reassuringly, “is that it doesn’t have to be as limiting as you think. Any good makeup artist, together with a good cameraman and CGI specialist, could cover this.”

With more confidence than she actually felt, she said, “Let me show you.” Alan was doing her a real favor that she could immediately pay back.

And for the next twenty minutes, Lilly worked hard, harder than she thought she’d have to, to create the perfect torso she needed for her screen test.

Unbeknownst to her, Jake appeared while she was busy covering Nefertiti’s hooped earrings, then carefully painting around each of Alan’s nipples.

“I’ve got a semi-permanent version of this same body paint that won’t rub or sweat off,” she was saying. “It’s the same stuff Angelina Jolie uses to cover her… Ack! Hold still!”

Alan had straightened suddenly and raised his hands in the air. “It’s for a screen test,” he said guiltily, talking to someone right behind her.

Lilly glanced over her shoulder, then up at Jake’s scowling face. He was royally pissed off. She wasn’t even sure that described it. Apparently, they were holding up his schedule.

She turned away from him and continued what she was doing, tossing back over her bare shoulder, “We’re almost done. You can have your chair back in five minutes.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him toss a flat package on the Lab counter and walk out. Just keep walking, she thought.

When she finished with Alan, she stepped back. “Ta-da!” The tattoos had disappeared.

Thirty minutes later, Alan stood behind Nat as he replayed the first screen test.

“I look…” Alan trailed off.

“Like a leading man?” Lilly supplied. “I told you it could be done. We live in the city of light and magic, right? Or, is that Paris?”

“I think it’s going to be Maui,” observed Nat. “These colors are killer, Lilly. We’ve got some CG enhancements planned for the dream sequence to make it dreamier, but now I’m not sure how much of it is going to be needed.”

“Keep it in the plan,” she said. “We can’t count on such good lighting when we’re on location.”

“Will do,” confirmed Nat. “It’d be funny wouldn’t it, if we flew across the Pacific and it rained every day.”

“Don’t jinx us,” she said, smacking Nat on the shoulder. Then, turning to Alan, who was still smiling at the monitors, she offered, “We could burn you a few DVDs. You could give them to any dubious casting directors.”

“That would be brilliant. I could hug you,” Alan said. “But I’d ruin that beautiful frock.” So instead he awkwardly patted her back.

Quickly removing his hand, he said, “Where’s the back of that dress?”

Jake and Clara were done and gone when Lilly got back to the Lab. Washing the golden palate she’d used on Alan, Lilly spied the package that Jake had tossed on the counter earlier.

It had a card with her name on it. Rinsing and drying her hands, she plucked the card from under the gold ribbon on the package.

Opening the small envelope, she pulled out heavy white card stock, plainly embossed with Jake’s initials. “Congratulations, Pixie,” he’d written inside in swirling blue fountain pen ink.

She picked up the slim package. It was wrapped in forest green foil with a winding gold ribbon, almost too pretty to tear open.

She untied the ribbon and slit the wrapping along the taped seam. Under the foil paper, was a black-trimmed ivory scarf box bearing the Christian Dior label.

Lilly lifted the lid. The vibrant greens, pinks and blues of the leaves and wildflowers scattered across the snowy silk background of the scarf eclipsed even her floral Scaasi halter dress.

But more beautiful still was the pattern. Hidden amongst the foliage was a golden-red fox.

Chapter 21

Lilly arrived in New York on Thursday afternoon, still chewing on the problem of the Spello soundstage. When the studio car dropped her in front of the Plaza Athenee on New York’s Upper East Side, she quietly cursed Maya, whom she was sure had chosen the hotel. Lilly would have been better off staying on the other side of the tunnel, close to the Brooklyn studio, rather than at this ultra-luxurious Manhattan lodging.

Unpacking her bag, she considered what to do for the next few hours. Maya and the small crew for the Spello shoot wouldn’t be there until Sunday. Her preference would have been to go straight to work, but she wasn’t expected on the soundstage until the next morning. She didn’t want to be perceived as ambushing the New York crew by showing up early, unannounced. In the previous days, she’d tried to be diplomatic in implementing her changes to the Spello set-up. Even so, the telephone conversations, video conferences and emails between her, Frances and the set decorator had become increasingly more terse.

Slipping on comfortable shoes and a warm jacket, she decided to just take a walk. She’d find a bite to eat and clear her head. Out the window, the weather looked even chillier than it had on the cab ride from the airport. She wished she’d brought a hat and gloves. She pulled the Christian Dior fox scarf out of her suitcase and double tied it around her neck.

Lilly had only been to New York once, to visit Kyle during his short-lived stint in graduate school. They’d mainly hung out in lower Manhattan at the bars near NYU and the shops in Soho. Opening up a Google map of the area on her smartphone, her aggravation at being so far from the studio was supplanted by curiosity about the Upper East Side. The Plaza Athenee was in the most expensive, old money neighborhood on the island.

Outside the hotel, she turned toward Central Park, and then headed up Madison, peeking in the boutiques and occasionally detouring down the pretty side streets. The streets on the blocks between Madison, Park and Fifth from Sixtieth to Eighty-Fifth were lined with elegant townhouses and eye-popping mansions. As she threaded her way through the Upper East Side, she walked by homes originally belonging to the masters of American history and culture. Vanderbilt. Carnegie. Whitney.

Before she knew it, she’d walked as far as the Metropolitan Museum. A huge banner announced a new exhibit of Impressionist paintings and fashion. Intrigued, Lilly mounted the monolithic steps of the museum, paid her donation and made her way to the second floor.

Meandering through the medieval European paintings, taking her time to find the Impressionists, she stopped to stare for long moments at a tiny fifteenth-century oil on wood painting she’d never seen by an artist she should have known, but did not.
Virgin and Child with Saints Catherine of Alexandria and Barbara
, by Hans Memling, read the plaque next to the painting. It featured a young woman in a ruby red dress holding a babe on a brocade throne, flanked by white-winged angels garbed in navy, gold and red. Two noblewomen knelt on a carpet of leaves, one dressed in mossy green, the other in intricately patterned black and gold velvet. It was charming.

She was still standing in front of the painting when the custodian announced that the exhibits would be closing in fifteen minutes. Surprised, she checked the time. It was only five. If she hurried, she could at least see one or two of the nineteenth century dresses on display in the special fashion exhibit.

But when she took a wrong turn into the American exhibition, she stopped short. A page from her elementary history book leapt out at her in the form of
Washington Crossing the Delaware
by German-American, Emanuel Gottlieb Leutze. She was gob-smacked by its sheer size, and gruesome darkness. She spent the rest of her time peering at the determined and desperate faces of the revolutionaries struggling to ford the frozen water. She’d just have to come back to see the Impressionist exhibit.

Exiting the museum, Lilly decided to forgo a lonely dinner at a restaurant in favor of room-service and an on-demand movie. Tucking her chin in her scarf, she hoofed it down Fifth, thinking it’d be the fastest route back to the hotel. As the sun dipped lower, the damp wind coming off the open field of Central Park became bone-chilling. She soon wished she’d gotten in line for a taxi outside the museum. Now, downstream from the closed museum, all the cabs zooming past her had passengers.

She could at least head up to Madison where the buildings might cut the wind. She’d just crossed Fifth when a familiar tall figure stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

“I thought that was you, Lilly,” said Jake.

Lilly looked up at him, shocked at his sudden appearance.

“How’d you get here?” she asked, looking around them, dumbfounded.

“I arrived in New York this morning by plane,” he said slowly, as if she were a simpleton. “I walked to this intersection from my sister Jennis’ home, where I’m staying. Her house is right around the corner.”

Through chattering teeth, she said, “I never realized until just this moment how much truth there is to the phrase, ‘It’s a small world.’” And,
you can’t run from the devil
, she thought but didn’t say.

Jake smiled at her. “You look like you’re freezing. Would you like to come in and warm up?”

When she continued to just stand there, mute, feeling like the evening had taken a turn toward the surreal, Jake wrapped an arm around her shoulders and urged her forward.

“Come on,” he said. “Tyler’s here, too. If he knew I let you get away he’d disown me.”

She would have brushed him off, but at the mention of Tyler’s name, and the warmth under his arm, she caved.

Jake steered her down Fifth a few short blocks then turned toward Madison, stopping mid-block.

“Watch your feet. These steps ice over quickly in this kind of weather,” Jake warned.

Lilly looked at the majestic building she’d gawked at on her walk to the museum.

“Jennis lives
here
?”

“Yes. So do I when I’m in New York. It’s a pretty big place.”

“I’ll say,” Lilly agreed. “It’s beautiful.” The Neo-Renaissance stone exterior of the four-story building was punctuated by Beaux-Arts sculptural decorations and classical architectural details. Low balustrades fronted a parapet on the second floor behind which were warmly lit, ornately arched windows. Many more windows fronted the third and fourth floors, some with their own small balconies. The blue slate roof was rimmed in beaded patinaed copper leading up to green copper lions standing guard on the rooftop.

Jake unlocked the baroque-patterned, iron security doors and stood aside to allow her to enter. The alabaster marble entrance hall was softened with warm woods and cheerful accents. Just left of the door stood a brass monkey as tall as a man, grinning, its arms open in greeting.

Jake led her past several rooms to a large eat-in kitchen in the back. Wall-to-ceiling hickory cabinets in ivory and sea-foam lined the walls not taken up by industrial-strength appliances. This kitchen could cater a presidential dinner.

Tyler sat at an antique priory table that could accommodate dinner for twelve, working on homework. He hopped up when Lilly walked in.

“Hi Lilly!” He didn’t seem at all surprised to see her. Unexpected visitors must pop in and out of here often, Lilly thought. New York was one of the most visited cities on the planet, after all.

“We’re just getting ready to eat dinner,” Tyler said. “Aunt Jen, Lilly can stay for dinner, can’t she?” Although his question was addressed to the woman on the other side of the broad kitchen island, he narrowed his eyes on Jake.

Jennis stepped around the granite-topped island, drying her hands on a kitchen towel. “Of course,” she said, smiling and extending her hand to Lilly.

“I’m glad to finally meet you, Lilly. Jake and Ty can’t say enough wonderful things about you.” Jennis was extremely tall and bore a striking resemblance to both Jake and Ty. She looked to be somewhere in her thirties.

“I saw her first, Uncle Jake,” Tyler warned. To Lilly, he said, “I told him that he could borrow you for just this movie, and that’s it.”

Lilly blushed, as much as from Ty’s comment as the fact that Jennis continued to hold her hand, smiling down at her. She was nearly as tall as Jake, with the same dark brown hair, although her eyes were brown instead of blue.

“Your hands are freezing,” she said. “Has it gotten that cold out? Jake, make Lilly some tea,” she commanded her brother.

“Come,” she said to Lilly, tugging her hand while Ty pulled out a chair for her. “Sit by the radiator and give me that wet coat.”

Lilly slipped out of the coat and pulled the scarf that had been a gift from Jake from around her neck. She intended to stuff it inside her coat sleeve, but Jennis grabbed both coat and scarf before she could.

“We’ll hang these to dry while we have dinner,” she said. Shaking out the scarf, Jennis remarked appreciatively, “That’s beautiful.”

Lilly thanked her, looking everywhere but at Jake, who was busy preparing her tea. She’d been too rushed, and too mad, to track him down and thank him for the gift before leaving LA.

Tyler glanced at the scarf with its fox motif and asked, “Are you going to be my date for the Oscars this year, Lilly?”

“You bet,” she said, her mood lightened by the reminder that her fondness for Ty was reciprocated. “Let’s make a party of it. Get Wanda and the gang.” “The gang” was a small pack of character actors who’d played the forest creatures that made up Gustav the Fox King’s court.

“That’s a great idea. I see Hugh every day.” Hugh Jackman, who’d been the old king in
Fox Hollow
, had been cast as Captain von Trapp in Tyler’s Broadway production.

“What’s it like being on Broadway? Is it much different than film?” she asked.

“Acting in front of a real audience is
a lot
more fun,” answered Tyler. “So’s all the singing. But it’s kind of scary, too. We’re having a dress rehearsal tomorrow afternoon. Jake’s coming. Do you think you might be able to come?” he asked, hopefully.

There was no way she could make that happen. “I’d love to, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to leave the studio tomorrow. There’s quite a bit of work left to do to get ready for next week’s filming. I’ll definitely come back for your opening week. Think you can score me a ticket?” The show was sold out for months.

“I think I know a guy,” said Tyler with a wink and a smile. Then, to Jennis, he asked, “Is Sierra going to be here in time to make the rehearsal?”

It was Jake who answered. “I thought she’d be here by now,” he said, setting a perfectly steeped cup of Earl Grey before her. “I sent Wil to pick her up at La Guardia over an hour ago.”

Lilly looked at the steamy Shelley oleander tea cup and felt her mood drop into a sinkhole. She wished a real one would swallow her where she sat. Just such a sinkhole had existed down the road from the farm on which she’d grown up. Appliances, couches, all manner of unwanted items were deposited on top of the hole, always disappearing within a day.

A sinkhole was just what she needed to avoid dinner with Jake and Sierra Nighly. Her attraction to Jake alone was enough to make her uncomfortable around the couple. Worse, the dinner conversation would be dominated by their next project,
Jonathan Strange
, sprinkled with inside jokes from their shared history. It would be excruciating.

She took a gulp of her tea, scorching not just her tongue, but her whole esophagus.

“How’s the Spello soundstage coming?” Jake asked, taking a seat across from her.

Seizing an instant opportunity, she leapt out of her seat. “There have been a few bumps in the road. I’d better get going. Early day tomorrow.”

She turned to Ty and Jennis, truly apologetic, “I’m sorry I can’t stay for dinner. Thank you for the tea, Jennis. Your home is beautiful.”

Squeezing Ty’s shoulder, she wished him luck in the tradition of the theater, “Break a leg tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” he said, disappointed that she was leaving. Then he brightened, “Hey, I’ll see you in Hawaii, won’t I?”

“You will?” Lilly asked, looking from Ty to Jake.

“Yeah, I’m playing a bit part with Jake. I’ve been too busy to look at it, but Jake says I don’t have any lines, so I’m just going to show up.”

“One of the perks of being a major investor, as well as one of the leads, is that I get a say in the casting.” Jake said by way of explanation. Then, standing, he said to Lilly, “I’ll drive you back.”

“No, thank you,” she said firmly. “I’m all warmed up now and it’s just a few blocks.”

“You’re sure you won’t stay for dinner?” asked Jennis. “I know Sierra would like to meet you.” She sounded genuinely disappointed.

“I’m sure. I appreciate the offer, but I need to get going.”
Where had Jennis put her coat?
she thought desperately, edging toward the hallway.

Jake beat her to the front hall and pulled her coat and scarf from the welcoming arms of the smiling brass monkey. She silently allowed Jake to help her into her coat. When he stood before her and wrapped the scarf around her neck, a small smile was playing at the corners of his mouth.

“I’ll walk you back to your hotel,” he said, pulling his own coat from the closet.

Lilly briefly considered telling him that she’d rather walk by herself. Instead, she opted for a more diplomatic, “I don’t want to spoil Jennis’ dinner, and your guest will be here any minute. It is nice of you to offer, but I’ll be fine.”

“The Athenee is only seven blocks. I’ll be back before Jennis has the table set.”

Out of excuses, she surrendered. She was too intent upon getting away to wonder how he knew where she was staying.

On the sidewalk, Jake matched his stride to hers. They walked in silence while she struggled for something polite to say.

“Thank you,” she said finally. “For the scarf. It’s pretty and very fitting.” She didn’t sound truly appreciative, but she’d done her duty and thanked him for the gift.

“I’m glad to see you wearing it. It suits you,” Jake said. Then, all business, he demanded, “Tell me what’s really going on at the Spello set.”