an answer, and I gave the best one I could summon. “Because of evil. Because of hell.”
He looked at me then, focused on me, acknowledged me, his blue eyes alight. “Yes. Yes, it’s a damn serious step, murder, especially if you believe in your immortal soul, if you believe in justice before the final judge, the way Hamlet does.”
He lapsed into silence, and this time I didn’t speak, so captivated was I by the intensity of the performance. I considered applauding, but it wasn’t a show. He was an outsized personality, one of nature’s focal points.
“If I didn’t think I’d be compromising a minor, I’d offer you a shot of bourbon,” he said.
“I’m of age.”
“Bullshit you are.”
Filled with star-power charisma, he had self-deprecating charm as well. His level gaze flustered me. I found it hard to meet his eyes.
He poured himself a drink from the tray on the desk. “Didn’t Teddy get enough? I really don’t have time for this.”
“What’s important is not so much what’s in the book as what’s not,” I said. “The interviewer gathers hours and hours of tape, from you, your colleagues, your friends, but the writer makes the choices, shapes the cut. Think of me as your editor.”
“You seem a clever enough child.”
“I’m not a child. Teddy trusted me completely. You won’t need to repeat anything or bring me up to speed.”
He sipped his drink. “I promised Darren I’d get rid of you.”
“Why?”
“He schedules me. He’s filled all Teddy’s slots with board meetings and legal business. So dreary, and now he says I have no available time.”
“I won’t be a nuisance. I’ll work around your schedule.” I smiled to show him I wouldn’t be dreary.
“So I promised to send you away and pull up the drawbridge. Already rehearsed the scene.”
Oh, God, I’d rented the car, moved into the house, hung my clothes in the closet. Big as it was, the room didn’t hold enough air to fill my lungs. The lights seemed to dim, and I thought I was going to faint. Then I realized he’d said “promised” and “rehearsed.” In the past tense. As though he’d changed his mind.
“Was it a good one?” I said evenly.
He shrugged. “The words ‘when hell freezes over’ were in there somewhere.”
“You were playing it from memory.”
“What do you mean?”
“Remembering all those studio hotshots who told you to come back when hell freezes over. When you wanted funding for the Justice films.” I would not faint. I wouldn’t.
“I was almost as young as you are.” He regarded me speculatively. “Which hotshots?”
I ticked the names off on my fingers. “Hugo Esterhaz, Javier Blanco, Gregory Albert Smith.”
“You’ve done your homework.”
“I’ve listened to every tape.”
He passed his hand over his upper lip like he was checking to see whether he’d sprouted a mustache. “I suppose you’d have to be tougher than you look. Three sessions left?”
“Possibly four.”
“Three. You’ve heard all the tapes?”
“Teddy sent everything straight to me.”
“You seem determined.”
“No more than you were when you got the funding for Rip Tide. ”
“From?” It was a direct challenge, a gauntlet hurled.
“Byron Applebee. Twentieth Century–Fox. April 4, 1995.”
He stood still for a heartbeat. Then his eyes crinkled into tiny folds and he lifted his glass in a silent toast. He laughed, Teddy.
He laughed, and I fell in love.
CHAPTER
ten
The golf cart wasn’t waiting like my personal chariot at the front door of the Big House, and I had no desire to hunt for the disapproving PA. Afraid Malcolm might change his mind, I took off walking, almost running, ignoring the chilly wind, trusting the map in my head to lead me in the general direction of the barn.
Pretty good, don’t you think, Teddy? Rattling off the Carl Sandburg poem like that? Pretty good for me, anyway. You probably had him eating from your hand in two minutes. You were
He looked at me then, focused on me, acknowledged me, his blue eyes alight. “Yes. Yes, it’s a damn serious step, murder, especially if you believe in your immortal soul, if you believe in justice before the final judge, the way Hamlet does.”
He lapsed into silence, and this time I didn’t speak, so captivated was I by the intensity of the performance. I considered applauding, but it wasn’t a show. He was an outsized personality, one of nature’s focal points.
“If I didn’t think I’d be compromising a minor, I’d offer you a shot of bourbon,” he said.
“I’m of age.”
“Bullshit you are.”
Filled with star-power charisma, he had self-deprecating charm as well. His level gaze flustered me. I found it hard to meet his eyes.
He poured himself a drink from the tray on the desk. “Didn’t Teddy get enough? I really don’t have time for this.”
“What’s important is not so much what’s in the book as what’s not,” I said. “The interviewer gathers hours and hours of tape, from you, your colleagues, your friends, but the writer makes the choices, shapes the cut. Think of me as your editor.”
“You seem a clever enough child.”
“I’m not a child. Teddy trusted me completely. You won’t need to repeat anything or bring me up to speed.”
He sipped his drink. “I promised Darren I’d get rid of you.”
“Why?”
“He schedules me. He’s filled all Teddy’s slots with board meetings and legal business. So dreary, and now he says I have no available time.”
“I won’t be a nuisance. I’ll work around your schedule.” I smiled to show him I wouldn’t be dreary.
“So I promised to send you away and pull up the drawbridge. Already rehearsed the scene.”
Oh, God, I’d rented the car, moved into the house, hung my clothes in the closet. Big as it was, the room didn’t hold enough air to fill my lungs. The lights seemed to dim, and I thought I was going to faint. Then I realized he’d said “promised” and “rehearsed.” In the past tense. As though he’d changed his mind.
“Was it a good one?” I said evenly.
He shrugged. “The words ‘when hell freezes over’ were in there somewhere.”
“You were playing it from memory.”
“What do you mean?”
“Remembering all those studio hotshots who told you to come back when hell freezes over. When you wanted funding for the Justice films.” I would not faint. I wouldn’t.
“I was almost as young as you are.” He regarded me speculatively. “Which hotshots?”
I ticked the names off on my fingers. “Hugo Esterhaz, Javier Blanco, Gregory Albert Smith.”
“You’ve done your homework.”
“I’ve listened to every tape.”
He passed his hand over his upper lip like he was checking to see whether he’d sprouted a mustache. “I suppose you’d have to be tougher than you look. Three sessions left?”
“Possibly four.”
“Three. You’ve heard all the tapes?”
“Teddy sent everything straight to me.”
“You seem determined.”
“No more than you were when you got the funding for Rip Tide. ”
“From?” It was a direct challenge, a gauntlet hurled.
“Byron Applebee. Twentieth Century–Fox. April 4, 1995.”
He stood still for a heartbeat. Then his eyes crinkled into tiny folds and he lifted his glass in a silent toast. He laughed, Teddy.
He laughed, and I fell in love.
CHAPTER
ten
The golf cart wasn’t waiting like my personal chariot at the front door of the Big House, and I had no desire to hunt for the disapproving PA. Afraid Malcolm might change his mind, I took off walking, almost running, ignoring the chilly wind, trusting the map in my head to lead me in the general direction of the barn.
Pretty good, don’t you think, Teddy? Rattling off the Carl Sandburg poem like that? Pretty good for me, anyway. You probably had him eating from your hand in two minutes. You were
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