by Morgan
Nathan was very glad he had not been driving, or holding something breakable, or standing near a cliff. He was actually in his editor’s office, working on a scene in reel number two that seemed to drag. Lauren had been listening closely to his conversation with the studio boys, but now Nathan gave her a ghastly look she didn’t understand.
A soldier might have recognized that look from his commanding officer.
Nathan took a deep breath and began with a deliberate smile in his voice, “Thank you very much for your belief in the film. I’m pleased that you think it could win awards, but if I may, I have a few concerns about that.”
“By all means, we welcome your input.” It appeared as if the president was going to do all the talking. Nathan really wished he could remember the man’s name.
“First of all, this entire film has been shot and scored like a grindhouse noir piece, and for that alone, it will likely be ignored by any nominating committee.”
“Tell that to Quentin Tarantino,” came the quick retort. “I believe he’s polishing two Oscars.”
Nathan wrinkled up his forehead as he considered this. “Thank you for making my point for me. He doesn’t make PG-thirteen movies, and neither do I.” He took a breath and plowed onward. “May I also remind you that I secured final cut on this picture. Now, while I’ll admit that it has matured, the material won’t justify changes in the editing beyond pacing and personal preference. Doing otherwise will be as transparent as a toilet paper prom dress.”
Lauren understood everything and looked like she was about to pass out. Still, she grinned at Nathan’s joke and tugged on his pant leg to make sure he saw the thumbs-up she gave his monologue.
“Nathan, I admire the hell out of you.” The president’s response sounded genuine, but there was still an edge to his voice. “Your point about Tarantino and genre is a good one, but not as good as your reminder that you had final cut.” He waited for the chuckle on his end to die down before he continued. “Make your picture. You clearly know what you’re doing.”
“Thank you,” Nathan replied.
“Well, it’s one hell of a ride already. That fight scene between Petersen and Quinn had me gripping my chair. And that scene at the end? I haven’t cried that hard since I saw The Green Mile.”
“He did cry his ass off at The Green Mile,” came a distant, but nonetheless earnest, remark.
“Thank you,” Nathan repeated. “Can I have more money?”
There were many laughs from the other side of the line.
Nathan was stunned by the turn of events. He was given a less crowded opening weekend and three more months to edit Sling Shot. While this news thrilled him as a director, he also felt concern for his principal actors and the delicate public relations scenario they were in the midst of navigating. The postponement of the movie’s opening was a development not one of them had ever considered, but he’d have to indulge his worries later. He refocused on the conference call.
“I’ll send you some of the scored stuff,” Nathan offered. “The music makes a big difference. Oh, that reminds me. I still need you to clear ‘Little Bit of Soul’ by Music Explosion for the opening credits.”
“We’re already on it,” said yet another new voice.
“Great!” Nathan gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up back to Lauren.
“Well…say…Nathan,” the president began, “since you’re going to persist with the R rating…ah…do you think you could get Michelle to show more skin in the shower scene?”
“I’m hanging up now,” Nathan responded with a laugh.
Chapter Thirty-Two
MICHELLE THREW A PARTY on the weekend after Valentine’s Day. She and Kyle had often hosted parties during their marriage, and she missed the buzz of the conversation and the delicious offerings her favorite caterer always came up with.
David was encouraged to invite any and all of his friends, many of whom asked him to play a song when he sat down at the long-forgotten white grand piano that matched the sofa in the living room. He sang the simple but sublime “Hallelujah” by Leonard Cohen, and the conversation stopped while everyone listened.
Michelle was mesmerized by the talent that flew from his lips and fingers. They’d been living together for the better part of three months, and she never knew he played until that moment. She glanced in surprise at Shaunna, who merely shrugged.
Shaunna had pleasantly discovered David’s musical side early in their relationship. He’d taken to singing Shaunna to sleep after making love to her, and now the sound of his voice in the crowded space was enough to ignite her desire for him. As Shaunna turned her focus back to David, Michelle scurried off to mingle with her other guests.
David played an encore, a song by Billy Joel. Then he strolled out to the balcony for some night air to escape the admiration.
Shaunna desperately wanted to go out to him, but as agreed beforehand, the two acted like practical strangers, despite being known as business associates.
It was Nathan who went outside to check on David. “Hey, buddy. That was really good. I’ll remember your pipes if I ever direct a musical.”
David smirked. “Are you ever going to direct a musical?”
“Fuck no.”
Both men laughed and hugged. “It’s good to see you again, man,” David told him. He missed seeing Nathan almost every day.
“You too. Say,” Nathan began shyly. “I haven’t gotten a chance to apologize about the film getting pushed back. I know it’s a sacrifice to live here rent free and pretend that you’re humping Michelle, so I appreciate you taking one for the team.”
David looked dubiously at Nathan.
“What?”
“We’re not pretending to be anything,” David told him, revealing a rare tone of exasperation. “And it’s harder than you think not to show my love for Shaunna.”
Nathan watched with unease as David stared pensively at the Pacific Ocean. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” David relented and accepted the situation with a shrug. “The studio clearly has faith in the picture.”
Nathan laughed. “They like that I’m playing the film as a straight grind job. They even think Kyle’s stiff performance is part of the gag. They like you too, by the way.”
David waved the comment away.
“No, seriously. They think that you and Michelle playing off Kyle is some kind of statement about mixed genres, and they say the bullet pace is ‘an emotional crash cart of fun.’”
David nodded. “How’s the final cut coming along?”
“Great. We’ll have it in the can a month early. How’s the TV show?”
“Good. We’re going to wrap by April, and then we wait for the summer schedule to come out.”
“Well, you’ll have a hit on your hands, I’m sure.”
“I don’t know,” David stated. “Some of the best shows go down before all the completed episodes even air.”
“While crappy ones hang on for eight years,” Nathan observed glumly. “That’s why I like movies. Fun and done, and on to the next one.”
“Ha!” David laughed. “I thought that was your love life.”
Nathan shook his head, smiling. “Not even when I had one,” he admitted. “I’m a film dork, remember?”
The men paused to enjoy the view of the Malibu beach and the comfortable silence between good friends.
“I’m casting Bitch Slap soon,” Nathan mentioned, after a while. “I have a part for you if you want it.”
“Really?” David was flattered.
“Yeah. I want to get you once more while your price is still low.”
“Too late, but what’s the part?”
“A psycho cross-dresser named Flavia.”
“Played straight or for laughs?” David asked.
“Straight.”
“Is there a death scene?”
Nathan looked at him, puzzled. “How’d you know?”
David shrugged his shoulders. “It just seems to m
e like psycho cross-dressers wind up getting the short end of the stick.”
“In more ways than one,” Nathan muttered.
David raised his eyebrows.
“But it’s tasteful,” Nathan added.
David’s eyebrows rose a little more.
“Well, there’s no nudity,” he corrected.
David’s eyebrows managed to achieve a tiny bit of extra altitude.
“No male nudity,” Nathan clarified.
David laughed. “In just the death scene, or the entire film?”
“I have a script in the car,” Nathan replied, deciding to let David read the part and fall in love with it on his own. “I’ll get it for you before I take off.”
Michelle came onto the balcony then and whisked David and Nathan back into the living room, where they danced with their friends, old and new, and drank champagne. Much later in the evening, a manuscript was pressed into David’s hand and Nathan’s voice was hurried in his ear.
“You’re going to look gorgeous in pantyhose.”
Sly had been invited to the party by Michelle three times before he finally accepted, but he showed up after the revelry was well underway. He confidently settled himself by the drink table, where he mixed exotic concoctions and offered them to partygoers who were running dry.
When Michelle saw him, she rushed over with rosy cheeks and bright, happy eyes.
“Do you think you could stop serving people long enough to dance with me?” She made the request before she had the opportunity to shy away from the idea.
“I’m not much of a dancer…” Sly began, but Michelle was already shaking her head. Her insistence surprised and flattered him.
“No, you told me when we met that the only thing you couldn’t do was sing.” She strolled in the direction of the dance floor, which had been set up near the piano.
Sly watched her walk away with interest. She didn’t look back to see if he was following her, but he made sure that when she turned around, he was standing right there. He took her by the hand without another word and began swing dancing to the decidedly hip-hop song. Any other man might have made the moment awkward, but Sly made it work, and Michelle happily fell into his fluid movements. They locked eyes as Sly guided her through several fevered, yet elegant sequences that made her feel as young as the night.
That was the first of many dances and many drinks for the two of them. Michelle led Sly, gracefully and chastely, in and out of conversations and activities, but they remained together for the rest of the evening. David wondered if this would begin the speculation that he and Michelle were not romantically involved, but Shaunna assured him that it would never be that easy. Still, David felt the air lighten around him at the mere prospect.
Once the party wound down, he eagerly asked Shaunna to spend the night. Since realizing Kyle hadn’t yet discovered their secret, they’d allowed themselves fleeting moments of optimism. She quickly agreed, and David was soon enthralled by a moonlit peek at her naked flesh, first displayed for him while he was in the shower washing off the heat and grit of the day.
When David returned to his room, he was wearing only his towel. Shaunna was waiting for him on the bed, lying on her stomach. She thought back to their flirtatious beginnings in Texas and offered an appreciative smile. He dropped the covering and walked over to the bed, regarding her with each step.
She bent a knee revealing more of herself, a movement she knew he enjoyed, and sighed into the cool, midnight sheets. David bent down to kiss her smooth back, and his damp hair tickled her deliciously.
He smelled like the forest after a spring rain, and she breathed him in as his lips greeted her skin over and over.
When he couldn’t take it anymore, he gently rolled her onto her back and then hungrily devoured her shadowy nipples. When he released them, they glimmered in the delicate blue light that trickled in from the window.
As a boy in Chicago, David had always imagined there was something sinister about midnight. Now, he associated midnight with sensuality and felt nothing but joy in it. He’d found the friend he wanted to see the world with. He held the lover whom he would never let go. She was a living passion, a comfort for his weary soul.
“I’ve missed you so much,” David whispered as he rested his head on her chest.
She wrapped her arms around his damp head. “I’ve missed you too. Do you have to be anywhere tomorrow morning?”
“Nope. The whole day is mine. Ours.”
“Good,” Shaunna breathed.
She pulled his face to hers and kissed him in a desperate, craving way that got him revved up all over again. When he pressed his body to hers, she opened her legs immediately. With an adjustment of his hips, David slowly entered her and closed his eyes with pleasure. Shaunna’s eyes were wide open. She stared up at his strong chest as he became a part of her for the first time in weeks.
They moved slowly at first, savoring the contact, but it had been a very long day. Soon, they evolved into voracious lovers bucking against one another. They slid up and down each other’s bodies, kissing and licking anything that was exposed. They flitted from position to position, each one causing Shaunna to climax faster than the one before.
David was strong but getting tired, so she pushed him down on his back and straddled him with a determined expression.
“Are you ready?” she purred. “I want you to come for me.”
“Yes,” David confirmed breathlessly.
Shaunna moved with purpose. David, jealous of the way the moonlight was caressing his lover’s skin, reached up and cupped her slick breasts. She leaned into his hands and wiggled hard with him inside her. She climaxed twice more before she heard his soft blissful whimper and felt his hands squeeze her thighs.
“Rest,” she told him as she settled back onto the mattress and pulled him into her arms. Her intentions were to look after him, to stroke his hair, but soon, she fell into a doze.
He was relaxed, but also excited for the time when he would finally be able to publicly declare their love. He fell asleep with a peace in his heart that all the money in the world could never have given him.
They didn’t wake to make love again until the room was completely dark. Outside, the sky showed thin strips of purple on the undersides of low clouds passing each other like great puffy whales.
Their dawn lovemaking was silent and slow, and they didn’t stir again until the house’s air conditioning kicked in and the smell of Michelle’s coffee snuck up the stairs to tempt them into the day.
Chapter Thirty-Three
NATHAN PLAYED WITH THE OLD STEENBECK editing machine Lauren kept in her office as he watched her cut his film together on a large computer screen. She was using a software called Final Cut Pro that had become the industry standard and could do things that the Steenbeck couldn’t even dream of.
Yet, seeing a piece of film snake through the guts of the complex machine made Nathan think of a slower world, where one would get occasional whiffs of smoke and ozone. Those were tangible reminders of days gone by—the kind of smells and processes once the norm for his predecessors in Hollywood. He knew that even the flapping of film reels was disappearing as more and more theaters went digital.
Now, the film was practically cutting itself. Each scene was easier than the last, and even if he and Lauren had been under the old deadline to deliver a final picture, they could’ve taken the last two weeks off.
In a way, Nathan wished he’d never been told that the suits were assigning such a highbrow interpretation to his campy little pimp slap to the genre. As a result, he found himself pushing for things he normally wouldn’t have, in anticipation of a specific critique. When he admitted this, Lauren gave him a proverbial pimp slap of her own and assumed full command over all five reels.
Nathan gladly let her. Her insistence to take charge placed his doubts on the cutting room floor along with the other dead shots. It was a relief.
“I want to drop in a close-up of Michelle here, but her eyes
are just too intense,” Lauren admitted, leaning in to her screen and admiring Michelle’s pretty white teeth. “She’s too good. Is that even possible?”
“Sure it is,” Nathan stated matter-of-factly. “I hear they had a similar problem with Tobey McGuire in the first set of Spiderman pictures. I myself directed a young Cathy Marks when she scared the living shit out of my sound guy.”
Lauren laughed, but sometimes, she still couldn’t tell when Nathan was imparting factual information or completely making something up on the spot to entertain himself. Even after three productions together, she saw no limit to the processing speed of his mind. It was as admirable as it was infuriating.
“You’re joking,” she challenged.
Nathan punctuated the seriousness of his forthcoming statement by looking up from the editing machine for the first time since they started talking. “I had a beauty of a tight shot, with an admittedly indulgent Dutch angle, but Cathy’s eyes ate through the film like a hot projector bulb. It was too intense.”
“Why don’t I remember this?” she asked, turning her chair to face him.
“I couldn’t use it!” Nathan was already shaking his head at the memory. “She was supposed to be playing remorse, and instead, she looked like she had just won a hobo-killing contest.”
Lauren turned back to her work, laughing, and spoke directly to the image of Michelle’s frozen face on the screen. “I’ll try to catch you when you’re looking down or something. I’ll only get a two-second cutaway, but it should give you some vulnerability, and that’s all I want, hon.”
Nathan liked it when she did this. Lauren once told him that it was her way of interacting with the characters because she wasn’t on-set to see them in action. He respected her reverence for their efforts and how they’d be perceived by the audience. It’s what made her such a smart editor.
