The Cinema of Lost Dreams

by Alli Sinclair

  Reeves looked around, his eyes wide. “This place is magnificent.”

  “It’s my sanctuary away from the hustle and bustle of this crazy town.”

  A finch flew into the courtyard and perched on the fountain. The bird drank slowly, flapped its wings then flew up to the canopy and disappeared.

  “The perfect place not to be recognized,” said Reeves.

  “Yes.” Lena crossed her legs at the ankles.

  He turned to face her. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m good.”

  He tilted his head, his eyes not leaving hers. “How are you really doing?”

  She gave a nervous laugh. “Truly, I’m good.”

  “You look tired.”

  “Well, yes, there’s that.”

  Reeves regarded her for so long that she grew nervous. She concentrated on the purse on her lap.

  “We work long hours,” he said. “We’re always in the public eye, and there’s the constant threat of someone newer, younger, coming along and taking our roles. We spend more hours criticizing ourselves in the mirror than having meaningful conversations with people we enjoy.” Reeves paused. “So Lena, I would really like to know how you are coping with everything.” He took a deep breath, his gaze resting on the fountain. “I’m afraid to admit it, but there are days when I can’t handle being under the glittery microscope.”

  Lena stared at Reeves, admiring his willingness to impart such personal information.

  “Lena?”

  She jerked, as if being pulled out of reverie. “Sorry! Sorry…I…”

  “No, I’m sorry. We don’t really know each other well, yet here I am, expecting you to tell me your deepest, darkest secrets.” He shook his head and laughed. “See? This is what happens. I’ve watched every one of your movies—countless times—and I feel like I know you, but really all I know about you is what I’ve learned the few times we’ve seen each other—and what I see of you on the screen.”

  “The screen is all lies.”

  He paused, as if deciding what he should say next. “I’ve missed you.”

  She held her breath. “We can’t do this.”

  Reeves stared at her with his dark eyes and she wanted nothing more than to kiss his lips and be held by his strong arms.

  A couple of birds flew into view and landed on the side of the fountain.

  “Look,” they said in unison, their laughter creating a perfect harmony.

  “You first,” said Reeves.

  “This is an impossible situation.”

  “I understand, although…” He shook his head. “Yes, it might be best if we find something else to talk about. Something that isn’t about Hollywood.”

  “Anything?”

  “Yes.”

  “How about…” Her voice trailed off as she grappled to find something that wasn’t work related. “I can’t think of anything.”

  “That’s exactly what I mean! Work is our lives. We live and breathe it. It gets under our skin, invades our brain until we can’t think of anything else to talk about.”

  “Oh.” Lena slumped against the park bench. “That’s rather depressing.”

  “It is.”

  “I always knew I had to give it my all, but now I’m starting to realize I’ve given everything.” She ran her fingers through her loose curls. “How could I not have realized?”

  “We all get caught up in this world. It’s like a boa constrictor: once we’re in, it coils slowly around us and wraps tightly until we’re unable to breathe.”

  “And we die a slow and horrible death.” She placed the back of her hand on her forehead and pretended to faint. Lena looked up at a grinning Reeves.

  “We do like our drama.”

  “We do indeed. So…if we’re not talking about movie-making, what will we talk about?” she asked.

  “Well, I, for one, would like to know more about you—where you come from, what dreams you had when you were a child, what your family is like. I’m not sure how, but you’ve managed to keep all that under wraps.”

  Lena shifted on the seat, the wooden slats suddenly uncomfortable. She stared at the fountain, concentrating on one particular stream of water that had diverted from the steady flow.

  “Lena?”

  “That’s boring,” she said quickly.

  “It’s far from boring. I want to get to know you.”

  “Why? People only ever pay attention to my looks or what my status at the studio could do for their careers,” she said, genuinely perplexed.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, Miss Lee, I have a great interest in you—in you as a person, not your career.”

  His eyes met hers and a desire to open up and tell him everything overcame her. She wanted him to know about what she’d endured when she was with Charlie Parker and how it skewed her view on relationships. She wanted to tell him about the heartbreaking way she and Dotty had ended their friendship and the reason she couldn’t return to her hometown…but the wall she’d spent years building shot up once more. Reeves Garrity had to stay on the other side; it was the only way she could protect herself, protect her sanity.

  Lena looked at her watch and stood. “I have to go.”

  Chapter Twenty

  1952 – Hollywood

  Reeves casually draped his arm over the back of the park bench. “You weren’t in a hurry a few minutes ago.”

  “A lady can’t change her mind?” Lena kept her tone light, even though a sudden weight had landed on her shoulders.

  “I guess.” He tilted his head to the side. “Please don’t leave just yet.”

  Stay? Go? Both actions had implications. “I’ll stay for a little longer if you tell me about you.”

  “Ha! You are an excellent negotiator.” His warm laugh caressed her. “My upbringing was very straightforward. Born and raised in Santa Monica. Parents of Italian heritage—”

  “Hence the tall, dark and handsome,” she said, then felt embarrassed.

  Reeves winked, and her skin prickled with heat—again. “Thank you for saying so. I’m not so naive; I know the main reason I’m Jeanne’s leading man is because of my looks. In this industry we have to take what we can get. Though I like to think that I have proven myself a quality actor by now.”

  “I believe you have. You were amazing in your last role.”

  “You’ve been following my career?” He sounded surprised.

  “Of course I have! I like being able to say, ‘I knew him when.’”

  Reeves laughed. “And I can say the same about you, too.”

  “You haven’t finished telling me about you.” She really needed to get the attention away from herself.

  “I have a younger sister who has a brilliant brain but, unfortunately, is limited in what she can do for work.”

  “Women should be able to do anything they want.” The conviction in her tone challenged him to say otherwise.

  “I agree.” He nodded. “And I tell her this all the time, but the world lacks role models for young women.”

  “What about Amelia Earhart? Hedy Lamarr? Madame Curie? Even Cleopatra!”

  “Of course! Those women are inspirational. I’m sure there are plenty more just like them, but we don’t hear about them often enough.”

  “You surprise me,” she said.

  “I do?”

  “Here’s a man who has the world at his feet, who can do anything, yet you’re worrying about young women not having enough role models.”

  Reeves grinned. “What can I say?”

  “Well, I can say thank you for not sticking your head in the sand. This world, especially Hollywood, doesn’t give women enough credit for our intelligence.”

  “They are wrong.”

  “Yes, they are.” She looked down and gave a half smile.

  “
What’s funny?”

  “Nothing’s funny. I was just thinking that I rarely have these conversations. Pierre isn’t exactly known for talking about anything or anyone other than himself.”

  “The same can be said of Jeanne.” Reeves shifted a fraction closer to her. “I really want to get to know you, Lena, but you seem to make it impossible.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  He wrapped his fingers around hers and she found herself buzzing from his touch. She knew she should pull away, but his warm, smooth skin made it impossible to resist.

  He said quietly, “We’ve spent too long avoiding each other. Do you know how hard it’s been to see you on the other side of the room, looking so divinely elegant? Do you know how hard it was not to go over and kiss your beautiful lips? Hold you in my arms?”

  “Stop it. Please.” She turned away.

  “A day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t thought of you.”

  Lena faced him, and the moment their eyes met her resolve melted like ice cream on a hot summer’s day. “I’ve thought about you every day as well. And…I need you to be honest with me.”

  “I promise.”

  “What is the real situation with you and Jeanne? Is it like me and Pierre?”

  “It wasn’t to begin with.”

  “Pardon?”

  Reeves ran the palms of his hands down his thighs and rested his hands on his knees. “Initially, I fell for Jeanne. How could I not? She’s beautiful, powerful. She commands attention when she walks into the room and her charisma on-screen…” He held up his hand and cleared his throat. “I’m digressing. The thing is, I was very green when I first started out, and when someone as influential as Jeanne picks you out of hundreds of budding actors, it’s hard not to be in awe.” He lowered his head, and a small laugh escaped his lips. “There goes my manliness.”

  “Getting sucked into someone’s web doesn’t make you less manly. Jeanne’s charisma is strong enough to hypnotize anyone.”

  “I feel like a fool.” He looked up, his eyes locking on hers. “She made me believe I was special, that I was one in a million. It felt like I was for the first little while but…” He shrugged. “I can see it was all a ruse to get me to do her dirty work. I was nothing but a whipping boy, and as soon as I realized it and started questioning her motives, I received flak—and lots of it.”

  “Was this around the time we, you know…kissed?”

  “Just before. I’d had enough of her demands, and I wanted to break free.”

  “So you kissed me to get back at her?” The muscles in Lena’s shoulders tensed.

  “No!” His defensive tone rang through the air. “Far from it! I really like you. I want to spend more time with you, get to know you better.”

  Lena stared at the fountain, unsure how to react. If she’d first met Reeves under different circumstances…

  He said, “I’m ‘with’ her for the sake of our careers, but I’ve told her countless times we are not an item behind closed doors. However, she refuses to believe that’s the case.”

  “Jeanne has a habit of believing what she wants,” said Lena. “This is such a crazy industry.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And here I am pretending to date my leading man because that gives me more space in magazines and sells more tickets at the box office. Sometimes it really gets to me, this lie. It makes me feel like a snake-oil salesman.”

  “People believe what they want. Some probably do see through it, but they prefer to believe lies.”

  “Why are they so interested in what happens to actors and actresses outside the movies? Why is it so important for stars to have so-called perfect lives? Why can’t we show we’re human?”

  “I have no idea.” Reeves shrugged.

  “Maybe it’s because in movies we take them out of their own world, but it only lasts a couple of hours. Perhaps thinking stars have passionate love affairs off-screen builds their own hopes for a happy ever after.”

  “I’ve never thought of it that way, but now you mention it…” He shook his head. “What kind of world are we living in where people willingly buy into totally unrealistic fairy tales? What’s wrong with the ups and downs of real life?”

  “Sometimes real life is too painful. Movies and books and music can transport people, change their emotions, soothe their hurts, trigger memories of happier times or give them hope that their luck will change. That’s not a bad thing.”

  “So, we’re the happiness makers?” he asked.

  “You could say that. Our job is to connect with people and their emotions, to entertain, to inspire. The trade-off is that we have to sacrifice some of our own happiness and freedom in order to do it.”

  “Sometimes I wonder if it’s all worth it.”

  “Look at your car,” she said.

  “Pardon?”

  “You have a gorgeous sports car that you never would have been able to afford two years ago.”

  “True.”

  “And you get to enjoy it whenever you want. I imagine you have a very nice house as well.”

  “I do. Though possessions aren’t everything, Lena.”

  “No, they’re not, but we have security. We can eat at expensive restaurants. We can pay our bills. We get to go to work every day and do something that makes us happy. How many people get to do that? This job is a privilege.”

  “It can be a ball and chain.”

  “Leave, then,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Leave the industry if it’s too much. Believe me, there have been days when I wanted to walk out of those studio gates, never to return. Maybe I’d give it all up if I had something better, but I don’t.” Lena bit her lip, chastising herself for being so uninhibited with her words.

  “What would you do if you didn’t act?”

  “I have no idea.” Her days of swimsuit modeling were firmly over, and she couldn’t imagine ever returning to rural life. “The thing is, this job is all I have. If I have to fake a relationship with Pierre Montreaux to allow me the success I’ve worked so very hard for, then that’s the price I pay.”

  “What about the chance at real love?”

  “I’ve tried. It didn’t work.” Diving into that hole would only cause long-buried heartache to surface.

  “So, in a perfect world, if you and I were far away from the prying eyes of Hollywood, you’re saying we wouldn’t have a chance?” The hope in Reeves’s voice caused Lena to pause and really think through her answer. “Lena?”

  “I…” Perhaps she should explain what happened with Charlie. That way, Reeves might better understand why it was so hard for her to ever consider loving someone again. She paused long enough to gather her strength. “I was in love once, and I was hurt badly. I was betrayed, blamed for things that weren’t my fault and generally made to feel like I wasn’t fit to be alive.”

  Reeves took a moment before he said, “I’m so sorry anyone made you feel like that.”

  An inkling of relief sparked within her. Maybe it was good for her to talk about it, but only a little. Most of those worms needed to stay in their can. “I was vulnerable. Very green. It was my first adult relationship, and I was blinded by love.”

  “We’ve all been there.”

  Lena looked at her perfectly manicured nails, wondering why she spent so much time on something so…vain. “The thing is, that relationship scared me, and I’ve not been able to have a meaningful one since.”

  “Fake-dating Montreaux is the perfect solution: you’re off limits, and you don’t have to give your heart.”

  Lena rested her elbows on her knees and held her head in her hands.

  “Lena?”

  She sat up, hot tears filling her eyes. “I never realized I was doing this.”

  Reeves reached for her hand. His warm skin against hers caused a cascade
of tears to slide down her face.

  She removed her hand. “This is too complicated.”

  “Then we un-complicate it.”

  “We can’t.” She sat up straight. “It’s obvious we have an attraction for each other, but our hands are tied. Don’t you see? Wondering about what life would be like if we were together is a waste of time.”

  “I’m nothing like the man you were with.” His voice was heavy with hurt.

  “It’s not…it’s not just that. I’m talking about our careers. There’s no point in imagining us being together, as you and I know it can’t happen. Thinking about these things will only disappoint us. We can’t have the best of both worlds.”

  “We could.”

  Her voice was barely above a whisper. “What we want and what we can have are often polar opposites.” She looked at her watch. “I really do have to go now.”

  Reeves stood and held out his hand. She took it, and they walked in silence through the green archway to his car. He opened her door for her, then got behind the wheel. The engine revved to life, and a small part of Lena wished they could stay in the anonymity of the gardens. But she had to get back and rest—the bags under her eyes were not getting any smaller.

  Reeves drove back to the studio slowly and parked his car next to hers. “Here we are.”

  “Thank you.” Lena exited before Reeves could help. He stood in front of her, hands awkwardly at his sides.

  “Thanks for the company,” she finally said.

  “Lena.” Reeves moved from foot to foot. “I really liked our time together, and I was wondering—hoping—we could do this again?”

  “As much as I would love to, we can’t.”

  Reeves squeezed her hand and gave her a lingering kiss on the cheek.

  She inhaled his musky cologne, reveled in his stubble brushing her skin. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to remain in control and not pull Reeves against her body, kiss him endlessly and forget the rest of the world.

  He moved away, their eyes locked.

  “Maybe one day.” His voice was low.