*
Her mansion was on the very top of a hill in the Hollywood Hills. She had forty acres of prime real estate. She’d paid a fortune for it but it was worth an even bigger fortune now. The house was three meandering levels of French doors and patios, towering cathedral ceilings and open beams, potted trees and great bowls of blooming flowers. The outside wall of the master bedroom was solid glass so that it seemed like sleeping outdoors with the pool just steps away and the lights of L.A. gleaming below.
*
Sometimes they heard the thumping blades of helicopters flying above them.
“It’s the fucking paparazzi,” she said, “you’ll get used to that. Come on, let’s go inside until they give up.”
“Fuck, no. They’re not going to dictate what we do. What do you care anyway, Ree? Let’em take their pictures,” burying his head between her legs.
*
They went on location to Ireland, a country they both fell in love with, maybe partly because they were so enthralled with each other. When they didn’t have to be on the set, they took long rides past green hills that swept to the base of mountains and along craggy-cliffed coasts and long golden beaches, through wooded glens and beside crystal lakes, through villages with colorful pubs and thatch-roofed cottages and castles and churches. She said she didn’t really know why she chose Rhiannon to be her name or why she picked Ireland to be the country of, basically, her rebirth. She guessed it was just that both were just as foreign to West Virginia and Pearl Ann Mosier as anything she could think of. He told her that he was part Irish in that it was where his mother’s family was from. The studio’s publicity department sent out elaborately detailed press releases about the movie star, Rhiannon’s, triumphant return to the country of her birth.
*
Rafe didn’t actually like moviemaking much - the long hours, many of which were filled with waiting and boredom. Repeating scenes because someone got their lines wrong, something that never happened with Rafe and his photographic memory. He thought this would be the last time he’d ever want to do this. Better to be in a car watching the scenery fly by at a two hundred miles an hour. He would miss Ree when it was over but it wasn’t like he had to spend every minute of his life with her. She had her world and he had his. They’d have plenty of time to be together.
*
About halfway through filming, they changed the ending.
Rhiannon’s character, Fiona, had been supposed to finally be rescued by the British and joyfully reunited with Captain Stewart. Press was the star, after all. But, they could see that wouldn’t be realistic. Fiona and Kel were so electric together, audiences would never buy her happily parting from him to rejoin her huband. No woman, especially, would believe she’d willingly leave Kel. So, while he still died in the end, now the movie’s final scenes showed a grieving Fiona, back with a husband who knew he’d killed the man his wife loved and mourning his own loss as a consequence.
“It’s actually better this way, more dramatic,” Reynard told the rest of the production group.
*
The advance reviews were overwhelmingly positive. The critics were inspired to new heights of over-the-top description, which usually included some variation of heat, based on the strength of Rhiannon and Rafe’s passionate performances.
“These two are positively incendiary together,” declared one.
“They’re like nuclear fusion,” exclaimed another.
“I expected to see smoke rising from the screen,” enthused yet a third.
“The love scene of the century,” it was labelled.
“Of the century?” asked Rafe, cocking one dark eyebrow, “have movies even been in existence for a century?”
*
Chas and Vic flew out for the premiere and Rafe sent Laney a ticket too. She’d bought a dress especially for the occasion. She thought she looked good in sea blue silk that matched her eyes. She’d pulled one side of her long blonde hair back and fastened it with a blue beaded comb. Chas and Vic told her she looked beautiful although when your competition was Rhiannon, it took more than that to inspire confidence.
They were already seated in the theater when Rhiannon and Rafe arrived in their limo to trod the red carpet, swarmed by reporters and cameras, so they had to watch that part later on t.v. Rhiannon wore a long low-cut black silk gown with the bodice trimmed in jet beads, her hair a tangle of sable curls. (She’d originally planned to wear her hair on top of her head, but he’d run his hands through it saying, “no, I love it like this, Ree, wear it down for me.”) Rafe was dressed in black slacks, black shirt and casually formal black jacket.
“Kiss her,” the people watching began to chant. “Kiss her, Rafe. We want to see you kiss her!”
“They won’t be satisfied unless we do it,” she murmured to him.
So, he turned and put his arms around her waist while hers wound around his neck and he lowered his lips to hers.
“I love you, Rafe,” they heard her say when it was over and a small sigh of appreciation went up from the audience.
Later, he sat watching, seated between Laney and Rhiannon, both of whom he assumed would want him to spend the night with them. Could be a bit of an awkward moment unless he handled it very, very diplomatically. He hadn’t quite decided yet exactly how he would do that until Rhiannon whispered in his ear, “remember, Rafe, how I said you could trust me to have your back no matter what?”
“Yes,” he whispered back.
“It’s been a while. I expect she’s anxious to see you, so it’s okay, Baby.”
He squeezed her hand and breathed a small sigh of gratitude.
*
Benchmark popped for dinner at Arletti’s after the premiere, currently the hippest, most prestigious (and most expensive) restaurant among the film industry in-crowd. Everyone involved with No Winners was ecstatic. They’d been around the movie business long enough to smell a hit when they saw one and they’d been around long enough to recognize a star when they saw one and Rafe Vincennes was going to be a star of the top rank, every bit as big as Rhiannon herself. They were a match made in heaven as far as the studio was concerned.
It was all pretty old hat for Rhiannon, and Rafe was more amused by all the hubbub than anything else, but Chas and Vic and Laney were awed - being chauffeured around in limousines to up scale restaurants , cameras going off in all directions, reporters crying out for Rhiannon and Rafe’s attention, sitting with movie stars like Rhiannon and Press Buckley, other diners coming up wanting autographs. It was a heady experience. Most of all, for them, it had been exciting seeing their own Rafe, larger than life, up there on the screen. Every one of them wondered if he’d be different now that he’d gotten all this attention but they were relieved to find he was still the same old Rafe, no more impressed by movie stardom than he had been about getting A’s or making touchdowns or winning races.
*
Sitting at the table in her suite later, Lane asked him, “you love her, don’t you, Rafe?”
“Come over here, Honey, and sit on my lap.” It was his favorite way to have a serious discussion because he could make his points with touching as well as talking.
He put his arm around her waist and smoothed her hair off her face. “I do love her, Lane. But that doesn’t have anything to do with you, Sweetie. No matter what else happens, nothing will ever change between us. We’ve been part of one another’s lives since the beginning.”
“Will you move to California now and just make movies?”
“I don’t have any intention of ever making another movie. I’ll be home when all the publicity shit is done, probably in the next few weeks. I’ll be there when you get your Christmas break. Now, you know what’s been going on with me, so tell me what’s happening in your life? Do you like Skidmore?”
“Yes, I really do and I love Saratoga Springs. All the professors are nice and I’ve made some friends. I’m getting good grades. You know the best thing, Rafe?”
“What’s th
at, Lane?”
“Unlike you, I love having people all around me and everywhere I go. After all the years at Heron Point, just rattling around by myself and being lonesome, having a roommate and hearing people in the halls and sharing a bathroom and eating in the cafeteria seems cozy and friendly, sort of what I imagine the house was like when all the older kids were there. I used to dream about how fun it must have been when everyone lived at home.”
He shook his head, “well, different strokes, I guess, Honey. What about your roommate? What’s she like?”
“She’s really sweet and smart but heavy and not very attractive, thank God.”
“Thank God?”
“Yes, Rafe,” she sighed, “because I showed her your website and now she has a huge crush on you. She asks about you all the time and when this movie comes out, it’s going to be worse. I don’t want you coming to school to visit me and seducing my roommate and then leaving me to deal with her broken heart. “
He grinned. “Do you think I would do that to you, Laney?”
“Are you saying you wouldn’t?”
“When would I have time?” he asked, pulling her head down to kiss her.
*
When it was released to the general public, “No Winners” became the highest grossing movie ever. The rape scene was the talk of the media, even including those that didn’t normally pay much attention to the film industry. The video of it zoomed to the top of YouTube’s all-time most viewed list. Rafe’s butt and Rhiannon’s boob were surely the most shaded out pieces of film ever on family channels and mainstream media. But not in the magazines and on cable, where they were shown clearly and lingerly, as they were in other print sources not quite so prudish. Press Buckley was the forgotten man as Rafe and Rhiannon became Hollywood’s new power couple. She was voted “Most Beautiful Actress” and he was voted “Handsomest Actor”. Collectively, they were named “Hottest Duo”.
*
The studio called Rafe and Rhiannon to a meeting.
“We need to start thinking about your next film.”
“There’s not going to be a next film for me,” Rafe told.
They were stunned, aghast.
“What do you mean that there’s not going to be another film? You have to make another film! You’re a star now! The public wants to see you!”
“I don’t owe the public anything and I don’t owe you anything either. I fulfilled my obligation under my contract.” His smile went sliding across his face. “I only promised to fuck you, I never promised to marry you.”
“You can’t do this!”
“Yes,” he said, gently, “I very definitely think I can.”
“Rhiannon, you’ve got to make him see reason!”
She shrugged. “Man says he doesn’t want to make a movie, I guess that’s his business.”
“But what about the money, Rafe? We’ll make you a multi-millionaire!”
“My trust fund just kicked in. I’m already a multi-millionaire.”
*
Back at her house, she told him, “God, Rafe, that was great! I loved seeing the looks on their faces when you told them no. They couldn’t believe anyone existed on this earth who’d reject them. At first, they thought you were just holding out for a better deal. The mercenary bastards can understand that. When they finally realized you really meant it, they went into shock. I envy you, Rafe. It must have been nice never to have had to kiss anyone’s ass to get what you wanted. What would you have done if you’d been in my position, I wonder?”
“I’d have done just what you did, Ree. I’d have been tough enough to play the game however I had to play it until I got myself into a winning position.”
She moved up to him and unbuttoned his jeans. “I know a winning position, I’d like to put you in right now.”
*
They were watching Rafe’s face on the t.v. screen for what seemed like about the millionth time.
“What did I tell you, Jeff? He went, he saw, he conquered.”
“You were right. You know, he probably got the part based on his looks but he deserved it too. He’s actually a good actor, Denis.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that. That’s what used to make the rest of us so upset with him when we were kids.”
*
“Have you seen the new Time magazine?” Linda Dee asked Rhonda Fisher at their weekly dinner (which was Mexican tonight).
“No, why?”
“Guess who is on the front cover?”
“I have no idea. Who?”
“Rafe Vincennes, that’s who!” she slammed her hand down onto the table, causing the other diners to stare in their direction.
“Are you serious, Linda? Rafe on the cover of Time?”
“Yes, because of that movie he made, and the caption above his treacherous, smiling face says, Headed for Super-Stardom. I’m not sure I can bear it, Rhonda. Whatever happened to ‘what goes around, comes around’? A less deserving person I can’t imagine and yet, he just keeps going around and catching the brass ring every time. It just isn’t fair,” she said bitterly. “And here’s the very worst part. Chelsea confessed to me that she went to see that movie and she told me as soon as it comes out on dvd she’s buying it and she said she was probably going to watch it about a million times.” (Chelsea was a nurse in St Vincent’s Hospital in Baltimore now).
“Try not to be too upset, Linda. I mean, I think most of the people in or from Benedict have seen it. It’s natural when Rafe comes from here. And that’s probably even more so if you were ever, if you were ever…. (she was trying to think of a delicate way to say it) involved with Rafe.”
Linda closed her eyes in pain at the thought.
“And even you have to admit that Rafe was rather larger than life. Even as a student, the normal rules never seemed to apply to him.”
“Oh, I’ll grant you that. Will he get away with it his whole life, do you think, or will justice finally catch up with him someday?”
*
Rafe was having somewhat the same thoughts, not the justice part, just about the brass ring and how people came to get it. He’d ridden up to the cabin to get away from the phone. Now he was sitting on a chair on the porch with his legs propped up on the railing, Hawk at his feet. It was an overcast day, making the world look metallic - the sky was iron, the grass in the fields was pewter, the bay beyond was steel. He’d left his cell back at the house. There’d be no new messages because his voice mail box was full. Luckily, Renny and Magdelene were in Mobile visiting again with Gil and Cindy (Gil was retired now from Princeton) because the land line just kept ringing and ringing and ringing, taking messages until the answering machine ran out of tape. Rafe had deleted them a couple of times but this last time, he’d just let it fill up and left it that way. The post office had notified him that they were holding his mail too because the Heron Point mailbox, while large, wasn’t big enough to stuff all his fan mail into. He guessed he’d have to run into Benedict and pick it up eventually. He’d told them to just pitch it but they said they couldn’t do that. A person’s mail was sacred whether he wanted it or not. Jeri told him his movie fans had discovered the race website and it got so many hits, it crashed the server. He’d sent her a check for a new and bigger one. He also sent her an extra $5,000 for herself just for all the work she did. When she e-mailed him back, she said she did what she did for him and not for money but she was keeping the $5,000 just the same ?! Vic e-mailed him that he was getting mail at the carriage house too because he’d never turned in a change of address since he’d hardly received any mail there and he knew he could trust them to forward on anything that looked important. Vic asked what Rafe wanted them to do with it and Rafe told him to throw it away. Then Vic asked if he cared if they read it. Amused, he told them to go ahead and to tell him about anything especially interesting. So, now Vic kept up a running commentary in his e-mails, mostly about exotic and explicit sexual offers, (from both men and women), marriage proposals (from both men and women) and of
course, passionate promises of undying love (from both women and men). Rafe had decided there were even more crazies in the world than he had previously thought.
So he was here at the cabin because it was about the only refuge he had left (no phone, thank God), here or driving in his car. Reporters had even tracked him down and tried to snag an interview when he was on the boat, for Christ’s sake, not that anyone could catch him in the cigarette boat but still.
Rafe didn’t really think much about God one way or the other. If there was a Supreme Being, it sure seemed like he (or she, or it) had a capricious sense of humor. Even a brain as smart as his couldn’t make rhyme or reason of what human beings were supposed to accomplish, if they were even meant to accomplish anything. If an Intelligence had planned it all, it was as if it had set them all down in an impenetrable forest with no map and then just said, “have at it.” So they all staggered around this way and that, bumping into trees and stumbling over rocks and falling into holes. People were terrified to admit there might be absolutely nothing rational about any of it and that’s why they had to invent institutions like the church and idiotic ideas like the infallibility of a Pope to comfort themselves that they had some freakin’ kind of guidance.
If there was one thing he knew, and anyone who paid any attention at all had to know, it was that life was not fair. That was so patently obvious, it appeared to be deliberate. There seemed to be some perverse law of physics operating that dictated that objects and people, were attracted to other objects and people, in direct proportion to how much those other objects and people repelled them, in other words, anything or anyone that was hard to get was automatically deemed more desirable.
Rafe had benefited from this principle throughout his life, not because he was trying, but just because of the way things were. Take women, for instance. How many times had he ever beckoned a woman, offering her nothing more than a quick lay, and had her come flying to him even as she cast aside the man who loved her and wanted to give her the world? The answer was many times. He’d even asked a girl about it once. He knew she had an adoring boyfriend. Why would she hurt that boyfriend to be with him? She said it was because he was exciting and her boyfriend wasn’t. He told her, “yeah, but I’m only going to be exciting for a few hours and then I’ll be gone.” She’d just shrugged and said she’d worry about that later. He guessed at least a third of the fan club gals were married but they threw their names in the hat just like the single ones, taking the risk of the consequences if their husbands ever found out what was going on.
Sociopath? Page 27
