Lies, Love, and Breakfast at Tiffany's

by Julie Wright

  “Speak for yourself. I didn’t sign anything.”

  Ben frowned. “How did you keep your job without signing?”

  “I didn’t.” Since the French toast was gone, I dug into his hash browns.

  He fell back heavily in his chair. “They fired you.”

  “Nope,” I said around the food, wishing Ben had used Tabasco sauce to season them. “I quit.”

  “You quit?”

  “Is there an echo in here? Yes. I quit.”

  Ben sat silent, processing in the way that Ben did, not responding until all the pieces had clicked into places that made sense to him.

  I finished off his meal. Who knew confessions and confrontations could make a person so ravenous?

  “So that paper I signed that said I was not to fraternize with anyone in the employ of Portal Pictures?”

  “Probably means you and Dean shouldn’t date, but it doesn’t apply to me.” I dropped his fork to his plate with a clatter and crossed my arms on the table, offering my first real smile in days.

  Ben stood slowly and rounded the table, maintaining eye contact. “You love me.”

  “I know.”

  It was close enough to a Han and Leia moment, but when Ben pulled me to my feet and cradled my face in his hands while he stared at me with awe and wonder, I knew this moment was better than anything Hollywood could have produced.

  “I’d love to hear you say it,” he whispered as he bent toward me until there was nothing but a breath between us.

  “I love you.”

  His smile and his kiss happened at the same moment that he wrapped his arms around me with the gentle reverence of a man who knew what it was to love and to wait for that love to be returned. I don’t know how long we stood there together, breathing and existing as one person, one sigh, but it wasn’t long enough. Was this what it meant to love? To need and want and dream and hope all in one frantic heartbeat after another?

  A few people from our audience whistled and clapped.

  Geronimo, indeed.

  “If I’m honest, I have to tell you I still read fairy tales, and I like them best of all.”

  —Audrey Hepburn, played by Audrey Hepburn in real life

  Ben didn’t feel inclined to go to work that day, not after everything the two studios had put us through. We ordered another round of breakfasts since I’d pretty much eaten his and still managed to feel hungry. We filled each other in on everything that had happened over the week.

  I told him about Grandma, her sickness, how she was handling everything, and how Walt had been such a loyal and good companion during the entire ordeal.

  His eyes were wide with horror. “You didn’t call me?” He actually sounded furious that I dared leave him out of such important news.

  “Well, you did kinda dump me, so I feel like my lack of communication had just cause.”

  “But you had to go through that alone.” His eyes brimmed with apologies and sadness for my suffering. “You should have called. I would’ve come right over.”

  “Even though you signed your name to a paper saying you wouldn’t?” I couldn’t help but tease him a little.

  Ben narrowed his eyes at me. “I thought I was helping you. If I’d known you were in trouble, I would have come. I’d never leave you alone.”

  I thought of Emma and Walt and Grandma. I also thought of Audrey and the haunting words to the song “Moon River.” Audrey had been with me. She’d been with me since that first night in the hospital when I was five years. “I wasn’t alone,” I said finally.

  “I’ll send Emma a thank-you card,” he said, not understanding what I meant.

  Sure, Emma had been there and had been an immense source of comfort, but that first night, it had been Audrey.

  Ben told me how Mid-Scene had said that if he didn’t sign, it would pretty much guarantee my death in the Hollywood dream, and when Adam confirmed how much trouble I was in, he felt like he couldn’t allow that to happen to me. Ben had not been the villain in the story. He’d tried to be the hero. The good guy. He’d just confused what I wanted for what I actually needed.

  “I get what happened to us through all this,” I told him, deciding to explain it in a way we could both understand and both forgive so we could move on in our relationship. “We were making jump cuts when we should have been making cross-fades. But the great thing is that we’re masters at splicing.” I laced my fingers in his. “I’m calling this a final cut, the perfect edit: seamless.”

  We talked through breakfast and into lunch. His hand held mine for a good portion of that time, his fingers tangling up in mine like we were in high school and just discovering the art of hand-holding. The waitress kept our drinks full and never once complained that we tied up a table for four hours. Ben left her a healthy tip to thank her for her kindness, even though he was about to join me in the unemployment line.

  Because when Ben did go in to work that day, it was to quit.

  “Are you sure?” I asked him for the seventh time since leaving the diner. We’d arrived at the gate where Ben showed his badge to get onto the studio property. I recognized the guard as Lee Taylor. If I recognized him, he had to know me as well. That fact made me suddenly very nervous. “Are you really, really, absolutely, not lying about it, sure that this is what you want to do?”

  “Why are you trying to talk me out of this?” he asked as Lee went back into the guard shack to get the visitor pass Ben requested.

  “You signed those papers because you didn’t want me to lose my job. And now we’re here, getting a pass for me. I’m just wondering if you understand the consequences. You’re quitting your job. The chances of finding another one aren’t awesome. No job means no income. No income means not paying your bills, not to mention possible starvation and homelessness.”

  “Not homelessness or starvation,” he said as Lee returned with the pass.

  “How do you figure?”

  “My mom has a sweet basement, and she’s an amazing cook.” He laughed as I glowered.

  Lee must not have recognized me because he smiled and waved us through.

  “I’m serious,” I said once we were through.

  “I’m a grown-up, Silvia. One of the responsible variety. If I have to take an interim job while I search for one that actually suits me, I will.”

  I still worried because an interim job for people like Ben and me usually meant we’d have to do something that didn’t fill our well creatively. I did not want that for him. But the alternative was for us to not be together. Neither of us wanted that option.

  Ben quitting turned out to be the best thing for everyone, because, as our attorney later informed us, quitting released Ben from any legal tie to Mid-Scene Films that wasn’t directly dealing with the specific projects he did for them. He also signed a statement for Portal Pictures that he’d offered advice to a peer but had done no actual work on Sliver of Midnight, voiding Mid-Scene’s lawsuit.

  We sent a copy of the letter to Mid-Scene.

  The squabble between the studios was over, and Hollywood settled down into business as usual, minus two specific film editors. Mid-Scene hired Alison to replace Ben, and Ben actually seemed pleased that she was finally getting her shot. He held no malice at the fact that Mid-Scene had been out of line in the entire situation, or that Alison had swooped in when she saw her chance to break into the business. I was glad for her, too. She got the job, but I got the guy. I was calling us even.

  The day of Grandma’s surgery, Ben sat with Walt, my dad—who’d flown in for the surgery—and me in the waiting room. I stared at him with wonder.

  “You doing okay? What are you thinking?” Ben asked.

  “I am okay. I’m actually thinking about the movie Sabrina. The original one with Audrey Hepburn. There’s a scene where she says something about learning to live, how to be in the world and of
the world, and not just standing aside and watching. I used to feel like I was standing to the side and watching all the time, but I don’t anymore. I feel like I’m living.”

  “I understand completely.” Ben wrapped his hand around mine.

  I gave a low laugh. “You know, when I was little and not getting along with my parents, I used to threaten to run away to Peru. I’ve always had a tendency to run from things. Sabrina ends with Audrey promising she would never again run away from life. Or from love, either. You know, I almost did that.”

  “Promised to never run from life or love? Should I be worried as to where all this is going?”

  “No. You shouldn’t be worried, not any more. Because I almost did run away from you, from the possibility of us, and if it weren’t for that cute little lady in the surgery room right now, I probably would’ve done it.”

  “I guess I owe her flowers then,” Ben said with a smile.

  “Yes. You probably do.”

  The doctor came out about two hours later to tell us the operation had been a success. The chemo had shrunk the tumor by fifty percent, which made it much easier for them to get everything when they cut it out.

  Dad and I both stayed with Grandma after the surgery. When Dad left me alone with my sleeping grandmother to hit the vending machines for something to eat, I closed my eyes and listened to the beeps and hums of the monitors. I remembered those noises from a long time ago when I pictured a woman with a flowing gown and a sword saving me from cancer.

  I imagined her now sheathing her sword and offering me a salute and a smile.

  “Thank you,” I whispered to the ghostly image in my mind. She’d stayed with me all this time, but now the haunting was over.

  Ben came with roses the next day, not for me but for Grandma. “How are you feeling?” he asked her.

  “Well,” she said, her voice still thick with all she’d been through, “I’ve decided to call myself the uniboober.” Walt laughed. Dad was horrified. And I smiled. She was going to be just fine.

  A few days after Grandma’s surgery, I headed back home. The plants were likely all dead from neglect, and the mail was likely flowing out of my box and irritating the postal carrier who had to stuff everything in to make it all fit.

  Tucked between the bills and junk mail, there was an envelope gilded with silver foil. My mouth fell open. “No way!” I breathed and tore it open. Inside was a ticket admitting me and a plus-one to the premiere of Sliver of Midnight.

  Tears sprang to my eyes. I was invited. Invited. I hadn’t realized how important such an invitation was to me until it was there in my hands.

  It came with a note from Danny.

  Dean gave me your address since Portal Pictures refused to release it to me. He said it was the least he could do after botching things up. I want you there to see the movie we made together.

  In case you hadn’t heard, Christopher and I are putting together a team for a movie we’re funding on our own. I know the rule in Hollywood is to always let the studio pay and never use your own money on any project, but since Christopher and I don’t much care for Hollywood’s rules, we’re funding this ourselves. We need a good editor, and we know one when we see her.

  I’ve included my business card with all my contact information. Call me. Let’s go to lunch and discuss the details. Bring your boyfriend along. Christopher and I spent some time studying the work you two have done together and like what we’re seeing. We’ll want a strong team that can work well together.

  Keep in touch, Little Audrey.

  All my best,

  Danny

  The night of the premiere, Ben and I wore the formal wear Grandma had picked out for us for the Audrey Hepburn Society ball. I didn’t have my hair done like Holly Golightly or wear any jewelry, but I wanted to wear the gown. It only seemed right to give a nod of appreciation to Audrey when she had been such a big part of leading me down this path into Hollywood.

  “Are you ready?” Ben asked. He’d tucked my hand into his to keep me from picking at the ends of my gloves.

  “I thought I was until now.”

  The limo Danny had sent to pick up Ben and me stopped at the red carpet.

  “I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.” I bit my lip.

  “Me too.” But Ben wasn’t looking out the window toward the crowd or at the attendant stepping up to open the door. He was looking at me. I stopped biting my lip and leaned in to kiss him.

  “Me too,” I echoed. I closed my eyes and whispered another silent thank you to Audrey.

  It was not to say that I’d been cured from the irrational fear of the disease that took her, but I could say that, by getting to know her through her films and biographies, I’d come to respect her and love her and to be grateful for the path in Hollywood she’d shown me.

  She was the one woman to teach other women how to be, my grandmother had once said. Grandma was right about that. Audrey taught me about love. She taught me to be a woman. She taught me to follow my passion as a film editor, a friend, and an advocate.

  Ben exited the car, grinned at me from the red carpet, and held out his hand. I placed my own gloved hand in his and saw clearly, for the first time, how Audrey had taught me to be myself.

  I used to work in Hollywood . . . well, not in Hollywood, but for various production studios out of Hollywood doing basic film work in Utah. I finished writing my first book by hand in a spiral-ring notebook while doing photo double, stand-in, and featured-extra work for Touched by An Angel. My claim to fame is that Ewan McGregor kissed me at a wrap party.

  Writing about Hollywood is like visiting an old, dear friend. Being able to pay homage to a much-loved actress in that world of film made writing this book even better. So it is that I must give credit to Audrey Hepburn and all that she was and all that she stood for within the acting community. She genuinely was a woman who taught other women how to be. She stayed true to her heart in raising her family, in spite of a glittery world that would have told her to put her career first. And when her own children had grown, she looked to the children of the world. Thank you, Audrey, for being such a shining example to follow. You were a beautiful actress, but you were a brilliant human.

  Writing the character Silvia could not have been done without the real Sylvia. My dear, sweet, hilarious friend, thank you for letting me write a fictionalized you into this novel. You have greater vision and better sight with your one eye than most of us do with our two. Thanks for laughing with me, not caring that I snore when we have to share cabin rooms and tents together, and for answering, “Yes, Mickey?” whenever I call out, “Oh, Sylvia?”

  And I can never state enough how much I appreciate the love, support, and friendship of Heather Moore, Josi Kilpack, Jeff and Jen Savage, and James Dashner in my life. They are some of the greatest blessings to have come from my venture into literature.

  The team at Shadow Mountain is amazing. Heidi Taylor, the more I get to know you, the more I love you. There’s a long list of all the reasons why I am grateful to have you in my life. Thank you for everything! Lisa Mangum, you are magic as an editor. You see all those wrong and awkward places and understand exactly how to place the Band-Aid so those places heal properly. You’re an amazing editor. You are an amazing writer. You are an amazing friend. To Chris Schoebinger, Jill Schaugaard, Sarah Cobabe, Malina Grigg, and Richard Erickson—you guys rock your jobs. Thanks for all you do! You cannot know how much I appreciate all of you.

  And thank you, Sara Crowe, for all that you do for me as my agent. I so appreciate you. I know I told you that you were the agent I would sever a limb for, but I’m so glad you didn’t require limbs. Whew!

  Last, but never least, I am so grateful for my family: my parents, my children, and my own Mr. Wright. My happily ever after. The best dad any three kids could ever have a right to. I’ve thought a lot about my family while writing t
his book, about the sacrifices that must be made when a career mom is involved. We found a good balance that allowed us all to grow and become our best selves, but we couldn’t have done it without each other. Thank you, dear family, all of you, for being my balance. Scott, I’m so glad that our lives, if written down, could be called a kissing book. I’m never going to get tired of that. As You Wish.

  1. How does the title work with the themes of the book?

  2. How has Audrey Hepburn’s role as an advocate inspired others to use their voices and platforms for good?

  3. As an actress, Audrey had to play many different characters and parts in her life. Silvia also played many different roles in her life, except she wasn’t acting, she was surviving. In what ways do we change ourselves for the various audiences in our lives, and how do we stay true to the real us?

  4. Hollywood is a place still under the control of men, but that fact is changing. In what ways can women outside of Hollywood affect those changes to quicken the process?

  5. Were there any particular quotes that stood out to you, and why?

  6. Silvia is at a disadvantage with the loss of her eye, but—like the real woman her character is based on—she works around her disability. In what ways does Silvia see more clearly than people with two functioning eyes?

  7. In what ways does Silvia choose not to see? And how are we blind to truths in our own lives because we might be afraid of putting ourselves in situations where we might get hurt?

  8. How can disabilities, both real and perceived, strengthen us and weaken us? How can we stand up to those challenges?

  9. How many Audrey Hepburn movies have you seen? Which is your favorite, and why?

  Photo by Tiffany Tertipes

  Julie Wright wrote her first book when she was fifteen and has since written twenty-three novels. Her novel Cross My Heart won the 2010 Whitney Award for best romance, and her novels Eyes Like Mine and Death Thieves were both Whitney Award finalists. She won the Crown Heart Award for The Fortune Café. She has one husband, three kids, one dog, and a varying number of fish, frogs, and salamanders (depending on attrition). She loves writing, reading, traveling, speaking at schools, hiking, playing with her kids, and watching her husband make dinner.